There was only one member of Strategy that was both easy to find and willing to talk to Traitors, and that was Thatcher Tomlin. He made a killing on marketing various things to other collectives, relying on their wants and needs for power. He lived just outside of town in a very large mansion, with all the welcoming energy of a viper pit. Most members of Strategy tended to build their success away from prying eyes, but Thatcher wore his pride openly. At a certain point of power and wealth, he must have realized that no one could truly touch him.

He opened the door to his mansion before they had a chance to reach it. Smiling warmly at the two of them made Mark want to sock him in the jaw and end whatever plan he had. But they needed answers.

“Marcus. Lillian. I have to say, I’m a little disappointed it took you so long to come visit.”

“Cut the crap, Thatcher,” Lily said. “We have some questions.”

He smiled again, “But, of course. Where are my manners. Come in.”

Thatcher’s mansion opened up into a large foyer, decorated with blacks and golds and reds. He wasn’t afraid to flaunt his wealth, and Mark almost respected him for owning who he was. He led them through to a drawing room where four plush wing-backed chairs surrounded a low coffee table. He gestured for them to have a seat and sat across from them.

“I would offer you a drink, but I’d rather not waste it because you think I poisoned it. So, what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You don’t already know?” Mark growled.

“I have my suspicions. But it would be very foolish for me to talk about page sixty-seven just to find out you’re on page two.”

Mark glared at the smiling man, “Fine. Why did you give me raw magic about five years ago? I know you extract it and sell it. It’s all a part of your setup.”

“It’s true. I do extract it. From willing hosts, I might add. No need to break down my door after making up an excuse as to why it could hurt humans. That being said, I make it rarely. It takes a lot out of me to do, takes a lot out of them to donate, and the handling is atrocious. I mean, the second you touch it, it adapts to your power. I try not to make more than one every few months. It is very lucrative, so that’s disappointing.”

“If it’s so lucrative, why give it away for free?” Lily asked.

Thatcher laughed, “I know you may not think much about me, but do you really think I would just give it away? There are many versions to serve my Patron under, and mine isn’t the kind where I bleed money and resources.”

“Then who did you sell it to?” Mark asked.

“I’m sorry, but I went as far as to not even put it in my ledger. They have asked me to keep quiet. I told them no guarantees, but then they told me why they needed it. A gift for Marcus James. How sweet, I mused. But I could see it in their eyes. They would’ve made one heck of a follower for Strategy.”

Mark was growing annoyed. What was the point of putting Thatcher through these questions if he wasn’t going to answer anything. The two men stared each other down for a minute before Thatcher chuckled to himself.

“I will admit, however,” Thatcher said, “I am the one who hired the gunman to kill you.”

Mark could feel the tension and anger rising not only in himself, but in Lily next to him. A static charged filled the air, signaling that she was ready to attack. Mark took a slow, deep breath, then held out his hand to her.

“Thank you.”

Thatcher’s smile fell just for a second, before pulling it back on, “Thank you? You’re quite welcome. I have to say, you had a surprise in you after all, Marcus.”

“Your people may have planted the seeds in her head, but that greed was already in Evelyn’s heart. She would have either gotten there herself eventually, or let it consume her until she joined The Splurge. If she got desperate enough, she might have even killed me herself. So yes, thank you.”

Thatcher nodded his head, then Mark continued, “The real question about that is why you wanted me alive in the first place.”

“Ah!” Thatcher exclaimed, a light of excitement dancing in his eyes, “You are on page sixty-seven after all.”

Lily’s tension was rising again. Mark looked to her and nodded, letting her know she could relax. She nodded back, then turned to face Thatcher.

“So, what is it then?”

“This person who gave you the raw magic. A very loyal customer. Sad to say in my business, I can’t be too loyal, though I won’t spoil the ending. Honestly, I want to see if you can hack it. They came to me twice. Once was to purchase you some raw magic. The next time was to ask me to bring you back to life without upsetting your Patron. That was a little trickier.”

“You managed it,” Lily said, “So, why?”

“They need you alive for some ritual. One of their components needed is someone who has been in direct contact with a Patron. And lo and behold, Marcus, you’re the only one. But you were dead. So, that needed to change.”

“Why did you agree to it?” Mark asked.

“They paid me well. They gave me two artifacts. I’m still waiting for one of them, but it shouldn’t be too long now.” He looked at Mark, his smile more devious than before.

“The Fiend Collar and Piety’s Staff.”

“Very well done, Marcus. I knew you would know about the staff. I had to stop my new pets from tearing you and your new friend apart. But to have actually learned the nature of the collar! That’s the second time you’ve truly surprised me.”

“How did they get them for you?” Lily asked.

“Easily,” Thatcher said, standing up and grabbing a glass jar from a bookshelf. He poured some amber liquid into a cup, taking a sip before beginning. “They convinced Joselyn that they were going to join the church. Even went to meetings for months. Joselyn got the staff in from France after they claimed to be afraid of air travel.” He laughed, “As for the collar, I couldn’t tell you other than to say that they had it in their possession. And my hatred for Piety is no real secret.”

Mark stood up, “All of this just to bring me back to life?” For some ritual?”

“Mr. James, you sadden me. I know the ritual they’re attempting. They tried a variation of it five years ago if you don’t recall. Ah, yes, I guess recall might not be the right word.”

Lily jumped up, “These two things are connected? What’s the ritual?”

“You’ll see. But you might not remember. Either way, you won’t be able to stop us?”

It was then that Mark realized that Strategy was working with whoever was behind all of this. He summoned his sword to his hand and was happy to feel the static charge of Lily ready to attack at well. Thatcher just looked between them and smiled.

“You two really think it’s going to be that easy?”

Mark swung through the man, but the blade passed through him as he laughed. Lily brought a bolt of lightning, but it hit the bookshelf behind Thatcher.

“You think I would really let you in on all of this in person? I have to say, finding out you have a new power is always fun, but I never knew I would get to use astral projection in such a fun way. Watch this.” The image of Thatcher Tomlin faded until it was gone, but his voice remained, “Imagine how much I’ll be able to learn when nobody knows I’m around. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a staff to retrieve.”

“Shit, I didn’t even realize I couldn’t sense any magic or emotion from him.” Mark yelled, turning his sword into a hammer and smashing it through a few shelves.

“That’s not important right now,” Lily said, opening a portal, “We need to tell Hanna. We need to go protect the church.”

The two jumped through the portal and were back at the Agency, in Hanna’s office. Mark explained everything as quick as he could and the two of them started yelling directions to people other Traitors, who began gearing up to go. Jay was behind Lily chanting to held her hold her portal to the church up longer for everyone to get through. Mark shot off a text to Rylie before going through the portal himself.

The Traitors who were stationed at Grandhall were putting up the fight of their lives while wave after wave of feral humans lunged for them. The incoming Traitors spread out amongst them, helping where they could. Bodies littered the ground around the fence and Mark sighed a breath of relief realizing that none were his comrades.

He plunged his sword into one who ran at him, skewering through him to the one behind. He removed his blade, solidifying his arm, before backhanding another in the mouth. He could hear the crack of its neck as it fell to the ground. Nearby, fire swept through a group as Lily kept up her onslaught. Jay had joined the other ritualists, casting various buffs and spells to help the Traitors and hinder the fiends.

A cry of pain went up and Mark looked over to see a Fiend tear into a mage’s neck. Suddenly, dozens descended on the man, tearing him apart. Mark realized he didn’t know the man’s name and a pang of regret hit his chest. With a hole in their defense exposed, a few members of Feral broke through and began scaling the fence. Many were pot shot off by one spell or another. Some were skewered by flying weapons. But eventually, one managed to avoid the attacks.

Mark tried to keep an eye on it. He sped up, cutting down as many feral humans as he could to cover the hole in their defense. One fiend breaking away wasn’t a problem, but if others kept trying, they would have a bigger problem. Once Traitors crossed the fence line, their powers would be useless.

He finally reached the area where the mage was taken down, skewering the Fiends that were tearing into him. He took the man’s spot on the line, stopping a few more that had realized they had a clear shot. He looked around, seeing Jay and the ritualist chanting to summon living weapons that attacked the Fiend like robots. He saw Lily parting the ground beneath them before burying them under the ground. He saw Hanna passing through shadows, cutting the necks of the enemy, before disappearing again.

He kept stabbing and hitting the Fiends that rushed at him, aiming for his neck with their sharpened teeth and nails. He heard whimpers as he cut down their lives, wishing he wasn’t stuck between his armor and weapon summons, realizing that whoever gave him the coin made him reliant on it, rather than letting his powers adapt into something more.

As the fight raged on, he could feel his armor starting to weaken. He began feeling the actual attacks hitting his body, though none were piercing his skin. He glanced around to see that while there were less waves of Fiends attacking, the Guardian Agency was losing stamina quick. As one Fiend grabbed onto his arm to stop his swing, another jumped on his chest, trying to gnash its teeth through his armor to his neck. He grabbed it with his free arm and pulled it off, but another grabbed on to that arm.

Suddenly, two bursts of light hit them, causing them to scream and let go. They writhed on the ground, a white fire consuming them. He looked up to see Rylie smiling at him.

“Man, how many times am I going to have to save your ass?”