Chapter 15 - The Keeper’s Debt
The printer looked up, his eyes widening as he adjusted his spectacles. "I haven't seen that face in a long time."
"Then you remember who I am," I said, placing the black envelope on his desk.
He didn't touch it. He stared at the serpent seal as if it were a venomous creature. "I thought the bloodline ended with the fire at the estate."
"Nothing ends that easily," I said, my voice sharp. "Who ordered this stationery? Who has been asking about the serpent seal?"
"A man," he whispered, looking toward the door. "He didn't give a name. He walked in, placed the design on my desk, and paid in gold coins. Gold, mind you. No one uses gold anymore."
"Did he say anything else?" I pressed.
"He said that the 'Firstborn' has returned to collect what was stolen," the man said, trembling. "He asked for your address. I told him I didn't have it."
"And you expect me to believe you?" I demanded.
"I'm a printer, not a martyr!" he shouted, throwing his hands up. "He threatened to burn this place down with me inside it if I didn't give him your name. I gave him the name of your old shell company. The one that was dissolved three years ago."
My blood ran cold. If they had tracked that shell company, they would eventually find the lawyers who handled the transition to the current estate.
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"You fool," I breathed. "You didn't protect me. You just gave them a breadcrumb trail."
As if on cue, the front window of the printing shop shattered. A flashbang grenade tumbled onto the floor, its high-pitched whine echoing in my ears before everything turned into a blinding, painful white.
