Page 116 of Roguefinder

“Yes,” Stefanos said. “He retreated to Undersomm with the others when iron spread through the world.”

“But he didn’t stay there?” Emile asked with a slightly raised brow. It wasn’t really a question.

Stefanos’s expression went grim. “Our intelligence has reported rumblings of civil war among the Fae. We believe some Umbrals are displeased with their exile. They view Undersomm not as a kingdom but as a prison. Those Umbrals want to return.” He glanced toward the window, where the sun was just beginning to rise. “Strange storms have been developing all over Europe. An F5 tornado took out a bridge in London last night.”

He waited a beat. When no one said anything, he added, “It’s all over the news.”

I carried sandwiches to the table and set them down. “Yeah, we’ve been kind of busy being tortured by vampires.”

Jesse pulled his plate toward him as I sat beside him. When he peeked under the top slice of bread, I slapped his hand.

He dropped the bread. “Looks good, babe.”

“The Council has been monitoring the situation,” Stefanos continued, “but information is difficult to come by. The Fae are secretive by nature, and the Umbrals even more so.” He looked at Jesse. “We were aware of a handful of missing werewolves over the years. We never connected them to Carlo. He was very careful. But we didn’t know all of Italy was missing its wolves. That’s new.”

Jesse regarded him with steady eyes. “It would have been nice to know these things before my mate and I landed in the middle of it.”

“Until today, we weren’t certain of anything.”

“Your operatives need as much information as possible. Even if that information is incomplete.”

Stefanos held his stare for a long moment. Then he dropped his eyes. “Agreed.”

I smothered a gasp. Maybe I wasn’t the most experienced werewolf in the world, but I’d been on the receiving end of Jesse’s staredowns enough times to know the significance of what I’d just seen.

Jesse had bitched out Stefanos in front of witnesses. And Stefanos had admitted fault and apologized. I filed that under Things I Will Absolutely Ask Jesse About Later. Preferably after we screwed each other’s brains out.

Stefanos cleared his throat, his flash of submission buried as he swept a look around the table. “In that spirit, I’m going to tell you everything the Council knows. Some of it is confirmed. Some is conjecture.”

I slid a look at Jesse. He was quiet in his chair, but I knew he was itching for a notebook and a jumbo pack of highlighters.

“Ulfrik went missing eight months before he surfaced in New York,” Stefanos said. “We logged his disappearance, but we had no reason to search for him. He’d lost his mate in the Americas two centuries before. A solitary, grieving wolf dropping out of contact isn’t unusual.”

That tracked with the little I knew of Ulfrik. Jesse had mentioned his mate had died in “a long-forgotten war.”

“We now believe Ulfrik spent those eight months in Carlo’s dungeon,” Stefanos said. “And we believe that window is when Donn approached Carlo.” He looked between Jesse and me. “Based on your report, it seems like this is the point when Carlo’s operation changed from a quest for revenge into experimentation. He had the infrastructure, discretion, and harvested blood. Donn had a use for all three.”

Emile frowned. “What did Donn want with Carlo’s operation?”

“We don’t know for certain,” Stefanos said. “But something Alessia said makes the Council nervous. Servizio. Service.” He looked at me. “The Fae can’t tolerate the modern world. But a werewolf infused with Fae gifts and bonded to a Fae through blood could move through a world of iron untouched. Such a creature might be able to serve his creators.”

Cold spread through my chest. In my mind, Alessia’s cracked, bloodied lips formed a single word, almost identical in Italian and English.

Servizio.

Service.

“Carlo kidnapped and tortured werewolves,” Stefanos said. “His operation went undetected because he found a way to harness the lycanthropy virus at a flashpoint between lucidity and madness. We had no idea because the blood he sold didn’t leave a scent signature.”

“Until Ulfrik,” Jesse rasped.

Stefanos nodded. “We believe your bond with Caleb changed the chemistry. The mate bond ran from you through Caleb to Caleb’s sire. When Pyotr Zarins consumed it, you could track what no wolfseeker alive should have been able to track.”

“And Carlo knew it,” Jesse said, mouth twisting. “He used me like a hound.”

Emile growled, his eyes lightening a shade.

I made a mental note to never piss them off.