The river faded behind them like a bad dream.
Morning came slow and pale, the kind of gray light that made the world look half-drowned. Mist curled over the surface, swallowing the trees on either bank. The small motorboat cut through it silently, its hum barely louder than the heartbeat pounding in Ezra's ears.
He hadn't slept. Neither had Kai.
Jace sat at the bow, rifle resting across his knees, gaze sweeping the horizon. Every few minutes, he'd glance back—at them, at the water, at the sky—like a man counting ghosts.
"Ten more minutes and we'll hit land," Jace muttered, checking his watch. "Assuming your 'contact' hasn't moved shop again."
Kai didn't respond. He just kept his hand steady on the throttle, eyes forward.
Ezra sat opposite him, knees brushing occasionally with the boat's sway. The silence between them wasn't cold anymore, but it wasn't safe either. It felt like the eye of a storm—too quiet, too fragile to last.
"Who is he, really?" Ezra asked finally. "Ardan. You said he was a traitor."
Kai's jaw tightened. "He was more than that."
Jace gave a low snort. "Try: best friend turned backstabber."
Ezra's brow furrowed. "You two were close?"
Kai didn't answer, which was answer enough. Jace filled the silence instead.
"Ardan was the kind of man who could talk a priest into smuggling bullets. Smart, charming, cruel when it counted. He and Kai ran the same side of the Syndicate back in the day. Until—" Jace gestured loosely toward Kai. "Until one of them decided morals were optional."
Ezra's gaze darted between them. "Which one?"
Kai's voice was quiet, dangerous. "Both."
The boat bumped softly against a makeshift dock—rotting planks and rusted nails half-swallowed by vines. The shore beyond was overgrown, thick with trees that bent low like they were hiding something.
Jace hopped out first, tying the rope to a post. "Lovely place for a reunion. Creepy as hell."
Kai stepped onto the dock, gun drawn. "He'll have eyes everywhere."
Ezra followed, boots crunching on damp wood. "Then why come here at all?"
"Because ghosts don't stay buried unless you dig them out yourself," Kai said.
They moved through the forest in tense silence. Every snap of a branch made Ezra flinch; every rustle in the leaves had Jace's finger twitching near the trigger. The air smelled like wet earth and decay.
After half an hour of walking, they reached a clearing.
A cabin stood at its center—larger than the safehouse had been, sturdier, with steel shutters over the windows and a faint hum of electricity. Smoke rose from a chimney. Someone was home.
Kai motioned for them to stay low. He scanned the area, then nodded once. "Two guards—north and west side. Probably more inside."
Jace smirked. "You take left, I take right?"
"Don't kill unless you have to," Kai said.
Jace raised a brow. "You're getting soft."
"Efficient," Kai corrected.
Ezra waited behind as they moved out, heart thudding so loud he was sure it'd give them away. The wind shifted, carrying voices from the cabin—men talking, laughing, unaware of what was coming.
Two soft gunshots later, the laughter stopped.
Kai appeared at the door, motioning for Ezra to join him. His face was blank, calm. "Stay behind me."
Ezra nodded.
They stepped inside.
The cabin was warm, dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. Papers covered the table—maps, coded documents, half-empty glasses of whiskey. The smell of tobacco hung heavy in the air.
And at the far end of the room, sitting in an armchair like a man waiting for old friends, was Ardan.
He looked nothing like the monster Ezra had imagined.
Mid-forties, maybe older. His dark hair was streaked with silver, his suit immaculate despite the setting. His eyes—cold gray, sharp as razors—landed first on Kai, then flicked to Ezra. A slow, knowing smile curved his mouth.
"Well," Ardan said softly, setting his glass down. "If it isn't the Syndicate's lost dog. And his… new leash."
Kai's gun lifted instantly. "Don't test me."
Ardan didn't flinch. "Still the same temper. Still pretending you're not one of us."
"I stopped pretending the day you sold out twenty people for a briefcase."
Ardan's smile widened. "And yet here you are, alive because I let you be."
Jace leaned against the wall, gun lowered but eyes sharp. "You two going to catch up, or can we skip to the threats?"
Ardan ignored him, his gaze locked on Ezra now. "And you—Ezra, right? You're the reason he's still human."
Ezra stiffened. "You don't know me."
"Oh, I know enough." Ardan's voice softened. "I know that you were supposed to die in that raid three years ago. Funny how fate works, isn't it?"
Ezra's blood ran cold. "How do you—"
Kai's voice cut in, low and lethal. "Don't."
But Ardan chuckled. "You didn't tell him, did you? Of course not. You never could handle the truth without twisting it into guilt."
Kai's finger twitched near the trigger. "Say it, and you die."
"Say what?" Ezra demanded, stepping forward. "What is he talking about?"
The room tensed. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
Ardan leaned back casually. "The truth, my dear boy. You weren't collateral. You were bait."
Ezra blinked. "What?"
Kai's voice came, barely audible. "Stop."
Ardan's grin turned vicious. "You think Kai just stumbled into your life? He was sent to find you. To bring you in. You were a liability—a witness they couldn't control."
Ezra stared at him, frozen. "You're lying."
"Am I?" Ardan spread his hands. "Ask him."
Ezra turned to Kai, throat tightening. "Tell me he's lying."
Kai's silence was the answer.
Ezra's heart cracked like glass. "You… you were sent?"
Kai's eyes met his—haunted, heavy. "At first."
"At first," Ezra repeated, voice breaking. "And what about now?"
"Now," Kai said softly, "I'm trying to keep you alive."
Ardan laughed—a sound like broken glass. "How noble. A killer with a conscience. You always were predictable, Kai."
Jace stepped forward, gun raised. "I'm real close to ending this conversation."
"Go ahead," Ardan said easily. "Shoot me. But you'll never find out who's running the new network. The Syndicate didn't die, gentlemen. It adapted."
Kai's jaw tightened. "You're lying."
"Am I?" Ardan's grin returned, cold and sharp. "You burned one base. There are ten more. You killed one ghost. There are hundreds waiting. You can't stop what's already in motion."
He rose slowly from the chair, eyes never leaving Kai's. "You can kill me, Kai. You can even make it quick. But you'll still lose. Because everything you love is already marked."
His gaze slid to Ezra. "Especially him."
The shot came before anyone saw Kai move.
Ardan staggered, a bloom of red spreading across his chest. For a moment, he looked surprised—almost impressed. Then he fell, the glass shattering beside him.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Ezra stood frozen, staring at the body. The smell of gunpowder filled the air. His mind screamed with questions, but his mouth wouldn't work.
Jace exhaled slowly. "Well. Guess negotiation's over."
Kai didn't move. His arm lowered, steady, his expression unreadable.
Ezra finally found his voice. "You didn't have to kill him."
"Yes, I did," Kai said quietly. "He would've never stopped."
"But now we have nothing," Ezra said. "No proof, no answers—just another dead man."
Kai looked at him, eyes hollow. "Sometimes that's all there is."
Ezra wanted to hit him, to shake him, to make him feel what he felt. But he couldn't. The weight in Kai's gaze—the years of guilt and blood—was more than anger could reach.
Jace holstered his gun. "We need to move. His men will come looking."
Kai nodded once, already turning toward the door. "Burn it."
Ezra blinked. "What?"
Kai didn't look back. "No traces. Not this time."
Jace lit a match, flicked it onto the whiskey-soaked floor, and followed him out. The fire caught fast, climbing the walls, eating everything.
Ezra lingered for one last second. The flames reflected in Ardan's dead eyes, and for the first time, Ezra wondered if the man had been telling the truth.
If Kai had once been the very thing he was running from.
When he finally stepped out into the gray daylight, the cabin was already burning behind him. Kai stood a few yards away, staring into the woods, motionless.
Ezra wanted to reach for him. Instead, he whispered, "Tell me it wasn't all a lie."
Kai didn't turn around. His voice was rough when it came.
"It started as a lie," he said. "But you're the only real thing I have left."