Vivienne laughed. It was a full, warm, genuine laugh, the kind that came from deep in her chest and filled the entire store. She was doing this on purpose and they both knew it. She bought the lingerie, three more sets she didn’t show him, and walked out looking extremely pleased with herself.Outside the store, Ethan’s arms were screaming for mercy. Forty bags. Two hours. His shoulders felt like they were being pulled out of their sockets by gravity and designer fashion working together.When Vivienne turned her back to check her phone, Ethan activated the Dragon Soul Void Cauldron. The artifact was sealed inside his body, invisible to the outside world, a spatial pocket that could store objects in a dimension outside normal space. He sent a pulse of qi through his palms.Every shopping bag vanished. All forty of them. Gone in a blink, sucked into the spatial pocket like water down a drain.His arms dropped to his sides. The relief was so immediate and so complete that he almost groa

On the drive home, the silence in the car lasted exactly forty five seconds before Vivienne broke it. She was gripping the steering wheel with both hands and staring at the road with the focused intensity of a woman whose brain was running three separate investigations at the same time.“Explain the trunk thing.” Her voice was calm but her knuckles were white. “And don’t say magic again or I will drive this car into a lamppost.”Ethan looked out the window. The city lights of Crestwood streaked past like orange stars falling sideways. He was quiet for a moment, the kind of quiet that comes before a person decides how much truth to share.“It’s a spatial artifact. Thousands of years old.” He kept his voice even, like he was describing the weather. “It can store physical objects in a pocket dimension and retrieve them at will. It also amplifies my pill refinement process.”Vivienne’s foot eased off the gas. The Bentley slowed by five miles per hour. Her mouth opened and then closed and

Ethan was halfway across the Crestwood bridge when his phone lit up on the dashboard. Lawrence Griffin’s name filled the screen, and the second he answered, he knew something was wrong. Lawrence never called after midnight unless the world was on fire.“Ethan, I need your help.” Lawrence’s voice was tight and strained, stripped of its usual warmth. “The Special Division agents guarding me at the Park estate were attacked by Damon Hale. Two agents are dead.”“Are you hurt?”“Scratches. I’ll live.” Lawrence took a heavy breath. “Captain Marcus Webb took a direct hit protecting me. He’s at Crestwood General Hospital. The doctors say he won’t survive the night.”Ethan turned the wheel hard and swung the car toward the hospital without another word. The engine roared as he pushed the speed far past anything legal.Damon Hale again, the Spirit muttered. That man has more lives than a cat and worse manners. I should have taken his head when I had the chance.“He’s finished as a fighter. His

Ethan pushed through the doors of the operating theater and the smell of antiseptic and blood hit him like a wall. The room was bright and cold, filled with the steady, mocking beep of machines that were counting down a life.Captain Marcus Webb lay on the table with a breathing tube down his throat and wires crossing his chest like a spider web. His skin was the color of old candle wax. The monitors showed vital signs so low they were practically flatlines decorated with occasional blips of hope.His heart meridian is shattered, the Spirit said, and the joking tone was completely gone. Organs bleeding from the inside. Whoever hit him used a palm technique meant to destroy from within. That was not a Dark List assassin’s style, kid. That was something worse.“Later.” Ethan stepped closer to the table. “First I save him.”The surgical team was already gathered around the bed in green gowns and masks, their hands raised and sterile, their eyes tense above the cloth. A tray of gleaming i

Ethan stepped out of the operating room and found Bear waiting in the corridor. The giant stood with his shoulders rounded and his red eyes soft, like a man who had just watched his commander walk back out of the grave.“I owe you more than I can ever pay.” Bear held out a hand the size of a dinner plate. His voice was low and rough, and his grip shook slightly. Ethan took it and held it firmly.“He’s alive. That’s payment enough.” Ethan let go and rolled his tired shoulders. “But he needs a few rare herbs to fully recover. I’ll write them down for you.”Bear listened carefully as Ethan named each herb, and Lawrence Griffin, still standing by the wall with his bandages gone, nodded after every one. Both men promised to track them down within the week.Look at that, the Spirit said. A billionaire and a mountain, taking orders from a live in son in law. I love this city.Ethan almost smiled. Then the elevator doors at the end of the hall slid open with a soft chime.Brett Calloway strod