Mason spins around, hand on his scabbard, gaze scanning the parking lot. Flanagan signals, and after a quick glare at me, the soldier turns his back again.

The commander’s frown has deepened into a scowl. “You were about to tell me something. About your parents. What was it?”

I don a neutral expression. “I told you I don’t know anything about my parents.”

It feels uncomfortable lying so blatantly. I’ve always felt edgy when speaking an untruth. The commander was already suspicious of me, and this is going to make it ten times worse. Who the hell is that shadow? And why doesn’t he want me to mention the parchment? But given I don’t know who I can trust right now, I think I’ll take his advice.

Flanagan’s eyes flit around the parking lot before returning to study my face. It’s clear from the deep groove in his brow he doesn’t believe me.

I meet the intensity of his diamond-silver gaze with difficulty. He’s not fooled. Flanagan seems the sort that doesn’t miss a lot. He’s about to say something, probably question me, but I’m saved by Seonu returning.

“Yes, Captain?” Flanagan snaps without moving his attention from me.

“Sir, the SUV is about to arrive. Nelson will meet us at the steelworks. Base reports the Blood Guard and three units of servants just left Dvamira Castle.”

Flanagan shifts to face his captain. I let out a breath, relieved to be free of his scrutiny.

“Destination?”

Seonu straightens and folds her arms. Now she stands more closely, I see she’s clearly Japanese, though her skin is pale and her eyes an unusual blue. She’s only a few inches taller than Laasya, but her tight brown leathers accentuate a fighter’s physique. The silver symbol on the shoulder of her vest has four dots beneath it. She throws a stinging ice-blue glare my way. “You were right, sir. They mean to block us at the crossing to Blackriver Mansion.”

“Blackriver?” The word leaves my mouth before I can stop it.

“Our base of operations,” Flanagan answers, turning to me again. “A training center for new Channelers. You’ve heard of it?”

So it’s not Blackriver the shadow doesn’t want me to mention. And the Guardians already know I live in Lancaster. That means it’s the surname Sabel he doesn’t want me to share. I avoid Flanagan’s renewed analysis of my expression by examining my dangling feet. “No. I’m just surprised. I’ve lived in Lancaster six months and never come across it.” Which is the truth.

“It’s not on any map. The compound is glamoured and protected by wards. It looks like a disused industrial site to any observer. It’s where we’re taking you. I’m hoping you’ll come without resistance.”

I can answer that question with an honest yes. This is the best lead I’ve had on my parents since receiving that scrap of paper in the post. I still don’t feel comfortable with these people, and they’re not sure of me either. But at this point, Dracula himself couldn’t stop me from going with them.