Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
One excerpt stopped him cold.
. . .the locket proves successful beyond initial projections. Resonance remains stable across dissolution boundary, maintaining signal integrity through three complete cycle iterations. B. reports recognition at distances exceeding theoretical maximum by factor of twelve . . .
Charlotte’s words. From correspondence he’d never read, describing experiments they’d conducted together in 1762. Private communication that should have been destroyed or lost.
“Where did he get these sources?”
“That’s what worries me.” Maman reclaimed the folder, tucking it away with care. “Either he’s got access to collections thought destroyed, or someone’s been feeding him information. Someone who wants him educated about you specifically. About the tether. About everything Charlotte did to bind you together across lifetimes.”
Bastien stood at the gallery entrance, looking out at Rampart Street traffic that moved with the usual Tuesday morning bustle. Buses discharged passengers. Pedestrians navigated cracked sidewalks. Reality continued its normal operation while underneath, someone had been building a comprehensive understanding of his most intimate vulnerabilities. Bastien had been violated.
“He was at the auction. What does he want?” Bastien asked.
“Interesting. Missing for eight months or laying low I suspect. As for what he wants? Same thing everyone wants when they target celestial beings—power, knowledge, or revenge. Sometimes all three.” Maman’s hands stayed steady despite subject matter that would terrify most practitioners. “Question you should be asking is what he’s willing to sacrifice to get it.”
The street outside showed in the window with perfect clarity; the images synchronized to reality within margins too small for human perception to detect. But Bastien had stopped trusting what polished surfaces revealed.
“Show me what else you have on him,” Bastien said, going over his encounter at the auction with the mysterious man. “Everything.”
Maman pulled the folder back out, spreading contents across the reading table. Academic publications. Conference proceedings. Auction records spanning thirty years. But his focus had shifted about fifteen years ago—stopped publishing in mainstream. journals, went underground into private collector networks.
More papers. Analysis of sympathetic resonance between celestial and mortal frequencies. Treatises on genetic markers that facilitated spiritual binding. Each document revealed deeper understanding of concepts that should have remained theoretical.
“He’s been studying her techniques for years,” Bastien said quietly.
“More than studying. Implementing.” Maman tapped one particular auction record. “Purchased artifacts connected to a Lacroix estate sale, 2008. Paid premium prices for items most collectors would dismiss as decorative.”
The implications began building with mathematical precision. Gideon understood angelic mechanics. He possessed Charlotte’s research or at least a reasonable reconstruction of it. He’d built a surveillance network capable of monitoring reflective surfaces throughout the Quarter. He’d also demonstrated this capability deliberately, ensuring Bastien knew exactly how exposed he had become.
The hunter had become the studied subject. A feeling Bastien was not used to and didn’t intend to allow for long.
“I need to know his location,” Bastien said. “Where he’s operating from, what resources he’s assembled.”
“Already working on it. Got contacts in the collector networks who owe me favors.” Maman joined him at the entrance, her image appearing beside his in glass that showed nothing unusual. “But you need to understand something, cher. A man who builds surveillance system this sophisticated? He wants you to find him. He’s laying a trail you’re supposed to follow.”
“Then I’ll follow it carefully.”
“Carefully might not be enough. This kind of operation takes planning, resources, time. He’s been preparing while you’ve been focused on Delphine and the tether, everything that happened with the Veil. He likely watched all of that unfold. Now he’s ready to make his move, and you’re starting from behind.”
Bastien paused, hand resting on the door frame. “What kind of entities does this attract?” He was afraid to hear the answer he almost certainly knew already.
“The kind that enforce boundaries between realms. The kind who don’t particularly care for fallen angels maintaining tethers to mortal souls across multiple lifetimes.” Her voice carried weight of old knowledge. “The kind that might decide your relationship with Delphine represents a violation in the laws of nature and physics worth correcting.”
Her words landed with the cold precision Bastien had anticipated. Angelic tethers weren’t just forbidden—they were a theological impossibility. Living proof that celestial beings could form attachments strong enough to survive rebellion, exile—transformation into something neither fully divine nor completely mortal.
His existence challenged certainty. His connection to Delphine demonstrated that some bonds persisted across fundamental categories if desired enough. And someone had decided to weaponize that fact.
“I’ll be judicious in my pursuit,” Bastien said.
“You need to be ruthless. This man understands you better than you think, and he’s using that knowledge to position you exactly where he wants you. We have no idea how long he’s watched you. Don’t give him what he’s looking for.”
The morning heat hit him the moment he stepped outside. October that felt like August, air thick enough to resist motion. His car sat where he’d parked it, sunlight bouncing off chrome and glass with optical accuracy that suddenly felt suspicious.