CHAPTER 120: BETRAYAL.

The dawn air was thick with mist as Angela approached the mill, her breath forming small clouds in the cold. The street vendors Marcus had mentioned weren’t yet setting up their stalls.

She’d left the safe house at 5:15am, giving herself time to scout the perimeter before the meeting. Marcus and his people were already in position, scattered around the mill in locations they’d identified during their midnight area scout. She couldn’t see them, which meant they were doing their job correctly.

Angela’s phone showed 5:47am now, thirteen minutes until Jonathan was supposed to arrive. She positioned herself near a stack of the wall about thirty yards from the entrance, close enough to see but far enough to run if necessary. Her hand rested on the small can of pepper spray in her jacket pocket, the only weapon she’d brought along with her.

Marcus’s voice crackled softly in the earpiece he’d given her. "We have eyes on you. Rooftop positions report no movement yet. Stay alert."

Angela touched the earpiece once to acknowledge, the signal they’d agreed on to avoid verbal communication that might be overheard. Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat a reminder of how exposed she was, how easily this could go wrong.

At 5:52am, a figure appeared at the far end of the street. Male, moving slowly, favoring his left side. Even from a distance, Angela recognized Jonathan’s walking step, the way he held himself protectively around his injured ribs. He was alone, no visible backup.

Jonathan reached the mill entrance at exactly 6:00am, pausing to look around. His face was pale, bruised and battered from the crash. He carried nothing in his hands. For a moment, Angela felt a flicker of hope, maybe he really had come alone, maybe this wasn’t a trap.

Then she saw the slight bulge under his jacket by the side of his hip. A wire. He was transmitting to someone.

"He’s wired," she whispered, knowing Marcus would hear through her earpiece.

"Confirmed," Marcus replied. "We spotted it too. Proceed with caution."

Angela stepped out from the wall, making herself visible. Jonathan’s head turned immediately, his eyes finding hers across the distance. For three heartbeats, they simply stared at each other, former brother-in-law and sister-in-law, now enemies.

"Angela," Jonathan called out. "Thank you for coming."

She walked toward him slowly, stopping about fifteen feet away, close enough to talk but far enough to react if he made a move. "You said you had information about Bella. About Maren’s plans for her birthday."

Jonathan nodded, wincing slightly at the movement. "I do. But first, I need you to understand something. What happened to Carla, what I’ve been doing to Bella with the suppression powder, I thought I was protecting our family. I genuinely believed Maren when she said the Moonbloods were dangerous, that Bella needed to be controlled."

"And now?" Angela’s voice was hard, skeptical.

"Now I’ve had time to think. Lying in that hospital bed, I realized Marcus was right about some things. Carla did sacrifice for our family. And maybe, maybe I’ve been on the wrong side." He took a careful step closer. "The counseling sessions Maren scheduled with Bella aren’t therapy. They’re preparation for a ritual."

Angela’s breath caught. "What kind of ritual?"

"There’s a chamber beneath Whitethorn Academy. An altar, older than the school itself. Maren’s been feeding it for months, building its power. On Bella’s eighteenth birthday, when the True Silver fully awakens, Maren plans to use Bella in a ritual that will open a permanent gateway to the spirit realm. It’ll give Maren unlimited access to supernatural power, but it’ll kill Bella in the process."

The information aligned with what Marcus had suspected, but hearing the specifics made Angela’s blood run cold. "How do you know this?"

"I’ve been working with Maren for five years. I’ve seen the preparations, heard the planning." Jonathan took another step forward. "Angela, I know I don’t deserve your trust, but Bella’s running out of time. Three weeks isn’t enough to mobilize the Moonblood Council, to gather forces strong enough to assault Whitethorn. You need inside help."

"And you’re offering to be that help?" Angela asked, her hand tightening on the pepper spray in her pocket.

"I’m offering to get you information. Maren’s schedule, the location of the chamber, weaknesses in Whitethorn’s security." Jonathan pulled a small USB drive from his pocket, holding it up so she could see. "I copied files from Maren’s personal computer. Blueprints of the chamber, lists of her enforcers, everything you’d need to plan a rescue operation."

Angela stared at the USB drive. It was too convenient, his entire offering. "Why would you betray Maren now? After five years of loyalty?"

"Because I’m a dead man either way," Jonathan said simply. "I failed at the bridge. I let you and Bella escape. Maren doesn’t tolerate failure, Angela. Even if I deliver you to her today, she’ll eliminate me eventually because I’ve become a liability. My only chance at survival is to turn against her completely, to help you take her down."

Q

The logic was sound, almost convincing. But Marcus’s words echoed in Angela’s mind: This is manipulation. They’re exploiting your desperation.

"Prove it," Angela said. "Give me something I can verify independently. Something that shows you’re genuine."

Jonathan hesitated, and in that hesitation, Angela saw the truth. This was a trap. The USB drive was probably empty or filled with false information meant to waste their time. The details about the ritual were likely real, meant to make the bait more believable, but Jonathan’s supposed redemption was purely fake.

"I can’t," Jonathan admitted, his mask slipping slightly. "Everything I have is on this drive. You either trust me or you don’t."

"Then I don’t," Angela said, taking a step back.

Jonathan’s expression hardened. "That’s unfortunate."

The attack came from three directions simultaneously. Enforcers dropped from the rooftops on either side of the mill, their movements inhumanly fast. Another burst through the mill entrance behind Jonathan. And two more appeared from the alley to Angela’s left, cutting off her escape route.

Angela ran, her human legs no match for supernatural speed but desperation lending her momentum. She heard Marcus’s voice in her earpiece: "Engage! Protect Angela!"

Howls erupted, not from the enforcers but from Marcus’s people positioned on the surrounding buildings. One of the enforcers pursuing Angela jerked and fell as one of her moonblood soldiers clawed his chest, a bloom of red spreading across his chest.

But there were more of them than Marcus had anticipated. Not six enforcers as Mallory had planned, but at least ten, maybe twelve. They’d been hidden inside the mill, in the alleys, waiting for Marcus’s people to reveal themselves.

Angela dove behind a rusted dumpster as claws raked the air where her head had been a moment before. She fumbled with the pepper spray, knowing it was useless against werewolves but needing to do something. A massive shape loomed over her, and she sprayed blindly upward.

The enforcer howled, more in annoyance than pain, and backhanded her across the face. Angela’s world exploded in stars and pain, her body slamming into the dumpster’s metal side. Warm blood filled her mouth immediately, she felt her teeth shaking.

Then the enforcer was gone, tackled away by one of Marcus’s Moonbloods. They rolled across the ground in a tangle of claws and teeth, and Angela scrambled to her feet, her head spinning.

"Angela, north alley!" Marcus’s voice cut through the chaos. "Run now!"

She ran unsteadily on her two legs growing weak by the second, she ran past two enforcers locked in combat with Marcus’s people, past Jonathan who stood near the mill entrance watching the battle with cold satisfaction, past the bodies already littering the ground.

The north alley was narrow and dark, trash bags piled on either side, but Angela sprinted down it, her lungs burning, and emerged onto a side street where a car waited with its engine running. Marcus sat in the driver’s seat, blood streaking his face.

"Get in!" he shouted.

Angela dove into the passenger seat, and Marcus floored the accelerator before her door was fully closed. The car sped off, its tires screaming, then straightened as they shot down the empty street.

Behind them, the sounds of the battle continued, howls echoing off the buildings. Marcus drove with fierce concentration, taking random turns, doubling back, ensuring they weren’t followed.

"Your people," Angela gasped, tasting blood. "We left them."

"They knew the risks," Marcus said grimly. "We all did. The mission was to protect you and get you out if things went bad. They’ll extract themselves if they can."

Angela slumped in her seat, pain radiating from her cheek and ribs where she’d hit the dumpster. "It was a trap. Just like you said."

"Yes," Marcus agreed. "But we learned something valuable. Maren committed significant resources to capturing you. That means you’re a priority target, which means the evidence you’re carrying terrifies her."

Angela touched her jacket pocket, feeling the USB drive she’d gotten from Carla’s apartment weeks ago, the real evidence. "We need to get this to the Moonblood Council. Today. Before Maren tries again."

"Agreed," Marcus said, checking the rearview mirror for pursuit. "I know someone in who can get us there safely. But Angela..." He glanced at her, his expression somber. "After today, Jonathan knows you’re working with me. He knows about the Moonblood resistance. Maren will escalate. She’ll go after Bella directly now, regardless of the consequences."

Angela wiped blood from her mouth. "Then we need to move faster than her. How long till we get to your friend?"

"By car? Eighteen hours minimum. By train? Twelve, but more exposure."

"Train," Angela decided. "Every hour counts."

Marcus nodded and turned the car toward the railway station. Behind them, the textile mill grew distant, the fight a pure evidence of Jonathan’s betrayal and Maren’s ruthlessness.