Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Three

Raven's Quarters, The Supreme Court - Raven

The screen went dark. The last image burned into my mind--Raaf, standing in the doorway of Lily's room, staring straight into the camera. Not just looking--staring. Like he knew it was there. Like he'd known all along.

The knot in my stomach tightened painfully, and I realised I was gripping the table hard enough to hurt. My breath felt shallow, each one more difficult than the last. How much of this had been deliberate? How much had we missed?

MacTire didn't wait for an answer. His chair screeched against the floor as he shot to his feet, the sudden motion sharp and dangerous. Amber flared in his eyes, the wolf already surging to the surface.

"Mac, no!" I snapped, moving before I had time to think. I caught his arm with both hands, the ring's familiar weight on my finger the only thing giving me the strength to hold him back. Without it, I'd have been flung across the room like a ragdoll.

"Let go, Raven," he growled, low and guttural, his muscles coiled tight beneath my grip.

"No." My voice was quiet but firm. I could feel the strain in my arms, my body trembling as I dug in against him. "We're not doing this."

His wild gaze snapped to mine, and for a second, I thought he might actually shake me off. But the anger in his eyes began to dim, just slightly. Slowly, painfully slowly, reason clawed its way back into place, pushing the wolf down.

Behind me, I heard Marchant's chair scrape against the floor. "What the hell was that?" she whispered, her voice thin and brittle. Her gaze darted between MacTire and me, a mix of horror and disbelief frozen on her face.

"What the hell was that?" Marchant whispered, her voice shaking as she stared between MacTire and me, wide-eyed.

I didn't answer right away, MacTire was still on edge, his muscles tense under my grip, but the wolf was retreating. "You can't just kill him," I said finally, my tone measured. "So let's talk options."

"Christ," Marchant whispered, her voice thin and brittle. Her eyes darted between MacTire and me, a mix of horror and incomprehension. I could see the unspoken question burning in her gaze: How could I be so calm? How could I simply hold him back, as if restraining a mildly irritated colleague rather than an animal moments away from tearing someone apart?

The silence stretched. "We could confront him directly," I said calmly. "But it's risky... if he knows we suspect him..." I left the thought unfinished and stared pointedly at Marchant, praying she'd get with the programme.

"We could," her voice wavered, her throat threatening to close completely. I nodded encouragingly, and thanked my lucky stars when she continued. "Could try to investigate, but we'd be working blind. And if he is involved, anyone could be... I wouldn't know where to start, who to trust."

MacTire's jaw clenched when I turned my eyes back to him. "We need to draw him out," he ground out, "make him talk about what we've seen, see how he responds."

"OK, and how do we do that?" I asked evenly, pulling him back further from the edge. "What do we do?"

MacTire shook his head. "Not everything. We need to be strategic. Show him just enough to make him react, to see if he reveals anything."

Marchant nodded, her knuckles white as she gripped the table's edge. "We leave out the final clip, for now. Gauge his response to the initial surveillance footage without giving away everything we know."

I turned to MacTire, studying him carefully glad to see intelligence reflected back at me. "Can you hold it together? Because if you can't, there's no point in bringing him in."

His eyes met mine. The wolf was still there--just behind the surface. But controlled. "I'm good," he said tersely.

I took a deep breath. "OK, so let's bring him in."

I stood, and with one final, warning glance at MacTire, deactivated the room's ward and summoned Raaf.

He entered the room, immediately sensing the tension. His nostrils flared slightly--easily reading the sharp tang of adrenalin, Marchant's fear hanging in the air like a thin layer of frost. "What's got MacTire so wound up?" he asked, an edge to his voice. "What did he do to scare her?"

I kept my tone light, dismissive. "Just a misunderstanding. She's new to our world, still adjusting. It's been hard on her." It wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the whole truth - so I knew there shouldn't be anything for him to pick up on.

Raaf's gaze swept the room, landing on MacTire with a look that could have stripped paint. When he turned to Marchant, I caught a flicker of something deeper than simple concern--a calculation that vanished almost before it registered?

"We found something," I said, pulling up the video. "Take a look."

The clip showed Lily speaking directly to the camera. Her voice was tense, worried. "...someone's been monitoring my activities," she said. "That's why I hid this camera, to try and catch them in the act."

The camera was clearly her own makeshift solution--tucked into a bookshelf, partially obscured by a potted plant, angled to cover the room's entrance. Raaf leaned forward, studying the image. "Well hidden," he murmured. "good angle. But not perfect... probably the fourth or fifth shelf up." His eyes met mine. "She was scared."

MacTire's jaw clenched. "How did you miss this? Any wolf should have been able to scent that camera."

Raaf's expression tightened. "It's well-positioned. Probably warded, but I don't know... none of us found it when we searched after..." His voice trailed off as he looked at me. "It doesn't matter, you're right--I should have noticed something."

"Stop! There, take it back..." Raaf said suddenly. "Did you see that, someone's reaching for her mirror?"

A subtle relief washed through me. He'd noticed, unprompted, and his confusion sounded genuine.

"Probably a man," Raaf continued, almost to himself as the image flickered on the screen. "What the fuck?" he suddenly exploded, drawing my eyes back to him. "That's a blood ritual... but what's she's doing? At least two of them involved, a woman and a man, we didn't smell the blood... or the camera... I think she was cleansing the room..."

I shot a glance to MacTire as Raaf spoke, his analysis echoing ours, a subtle shake of the head the only confirmation he hadn't detected anything suspicious.

Marchant leaned forward, her fingers slowly tapping the envelope on the table. "And there's this," she interrupted, "a possible motive. Lily says it started with some artefacts... Peredur seems relevant here."

"May that rotten fucker burn in hell," Raaf spat instantly, his eyes suddenly blazing amber. Subtle, not, I thought... but the vehemence of his reaction probably meant he was too distracted to wonder how Marchant might know about Peredur.

"But yeah, maybe, the MCD investigated his death, didn't they Mac? If you found anything, it'd be in the archives, or back at the Yard... couldn't hurt to look."

The casual mention of the MCD investigation caught me off guard, he knew about that? I exchanged a quick glance with MacTire who shrugged minutely. "Wasn't exactly secret..."

"So," Raaf said lightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked between Mac and I. "Did I pass?"

The words hit like a sledgehammer. His casual tone was a lie, he'd pieced something together--maybe not the whole picture, but enough.

I met his gaze evenly, willing myself to stay calm. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean." Raaf's gaze swept the room, settling briefly on Marchant, whose fingers froze mid-tap. Then on MacTire, who didn't so much as blink. "This isn't just about Lily, is it?"

"Well," I said slowly, glancing at the remote control. "Shit or get off the pot, right?"

MacTire straightened slightly, his expression hardening, but I'd grabbed the remote before he could say or do anything. One more question. One final test.

"Let's take a look at the rest of the footage," I said calmly.

I rolled the video forward, revealing the final clip. Raaf filled the screen, standing in the doorway of Lily's room, his gaze fixed directly on the camera. He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Then the screen went black.

Raaf's jaw tightened, his eyes locked on the empty screen. He said nothing, but the shift in the air was palpable--the knot in my stomach twisted tighter. That look of his lingered in my mind and I couldn't shake the feeling that we'd been played, every step of the way.

"So," I said quietly, "what should we make of that?"

Raaf's eyes didn't shift from the screen. "I... I can't say." His head dropped, and he gave an enigmatic shrug that instantly raised my hackles.

"What the hell does that mean?" I demanded, my patience wearing thin as a low growl started to build from somewhere behind me.

"I can't say," Raaf repeated, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

"You're not making sense," I snapped. "Either you know something, or you don't."

"I can't say," he said again, this time with a note of desperation.

Something clicked. I leaned forward, eager to test my theory.

"What colour's the sky?" I asked.

"Blue," he answered instantly.

"What's two plus two?"

"Four," came the quick reply.

"Do you know my name?"

"Yes." he said, a familiar smirk briefly touching his lips.

MacTire's growl was already dying as I leant back, the pieces falling into place for him too. "It's a geas, isn't it? You're under a geas?"

Raaf's smile was tight, almost resigned. "I can't say."

"Sorry," I said, "but you know I have to ask... were you involved with Lily's disappearance?"

"No," Raaf answered immediately and clearly.

"He's telling the truth." With MacTire's verdict the room's atmosphere shifted immediately. I glanced around, MacTire looked resigned while Marchant looked bewildered.

"What just happened? What's a geas?" she whispered.

MacTire's voice was low, almost academic. "A magical binding. More than a promise, more than an oath. It's a compulsion woven into the very fabric of someone's ability to speak or act. Breaking it isn't just difficult--it's physically impossible. The magic itself prevents disclosure, twists the words, blocks the thought before it can even form."

"So he literally cannot tell us what he knows," I said, frustration burning through my words.

Raaf's smile was both apologetic and slightly amused. "I can't say," he repeated, highlighting something else he couldn't discuss.

The silence stretched between us, four faces screwed up in furious concentration. The discovery of the geas changed everything, and nothing. It only raised more questions we couldn't hope to answer.

"So," I said, breaking the tension, "we know he's not directly involved with Lily's disappearance, but he's clearly been bound by someone--preventing him from telling us everything he knows. Hell, it might not even be relevant!"

I paused, studying Raaf. "Before we decide anything, we need to be clear on one thing." My tone was casual, but my eyes were anything but. "If we do this, it stays between us. Completely. No reporting back to anyone. Can you manage that?"

Raaf's smile was knowing. "I can't say," he responded, the familiar phrase loaded with meaning.

MacTire growled low. "That's not a reassuring answer."

"Fair point," I said, pausing to think before pressing further. "Is the person who compelled you involved with Lily's disappearance or death?"

"I don't know," Raaf replied, a flicker of frustration crossing his face.

I exchanged a look with MacTire. The wolf's eyes were narrowed, calculating. "Convenient," MacTire muttered.

"Not helping your case," I added, watching Raaf carefully.

Raaf spread his hands. "I want to help," he said. "But there are... complications."

Marchant leaned forward. "Complications we should know about?"

"I can't say," he said again, but this time there was a hint of sardonic humour.

"We need another set of eyes, and he might be our only insider who can move freely." Mactire said, surprising me - I wouldn't have expected him to be in favour of taking such a large risk.

"Conditionally," I muttered. "Very conditionally."

Raaf spread his hands. "I'm right here you know. And remarkably transparent for someone who... I can't say... damn it all to hell!!"

Marchant snorted. Her tension was easing, replaced by a dry humour. "Transparent is one word for it."

A quick glance and two nods was enough for me. "Here," I said, pushing the letter forward, "have a look at this, fresh eyes might help make sense of it..."

Raaf's finger traced a line on the letter, a smile spreading across his face. "I remember this... so that's how you got your own back after she, umm, borrowed yours?" His tone suggested an old, familiar pattern.

I froze. The letter's words echoed: ...perhaps you've stolen my journal again, like when we were kids. "I never took her diary, couldn't get in... you didn't hear..." I trailed off as I darted from the room.

It couldn't be that obvious, surely?

The hiding spot was exactly as I'd left it. A loose panel, carefully hidden behind the bookcase in my bedroom. I'd used it constantly as a teenager - a secret space for journals, notes, childhood treasures. Until Lily had taken my diary and spent weeks tormenting me over a silly childhood crush.

I pried it open, heart racing.

Cobwebs. Dust. Nobody'd been in there in years.

"Shit," I said quietly.

I trudged back into the room, deflated. "Nothing," I said before anyone could ask. "Absolutely nothing."

Raaf looked apologetic. "Sorry. Didn't mean to get your hopes up."

"Not your fault," I muttered, collapsing into a chair.

Marchant was still focused on the letter. "The artifacts," she said. "It keeps coming back to those, and Peredur."

"So," I said, "we're back to the Yard or the archives... unless anyone's got any better ideas?"

"The Archives," Raaf said, frowning. "We don't know who we can trust. Whoever got into Lily's room had serious power."

MacTire's tone was grim. "More witnesses mean more risk. The MCD isn't exactly a safe bet either."

I nodded. "More layers between us and whoever might be watching, maybe. But more chances of our attempt being noticed, reported too."

"Witnesses can be a double-edged sword," Raaf added quietly. "Visibility doesn't always mean safety."

I rocked back in my chair, weighing our options. "Fuck it, we're already here," I said finally. "We'll just have to make sure we don't get caught."

MacTire's wolf-grin spread. "Careful isn't exactly your strong suit."

I met his eyes. Part of me hoped we'd find something--anything--that could shed light on what Lily had been doing before she disappeared. Another part braced for another dead end, another frustration.

"We'll make it work," I said, unsure if I was trying to convince myself or the others. "We have to."