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He hesitated for a second and then relented. “How did you hurt yourself?”
“I walked into the end of the bed without looking,” she answered with her back to us. “Give me a minute to get changed.”
Nerine calmly walked to her closet, pretending her steps weren’t laced with the edge of pain.
Her hitting the bed was bullshit. I knew it with every fiber of my being. Clumsy and Nerine weren’t words that went together.
Two things gave it away. First, Nerine couldn’t look us in the face when she lied. With everyone else, her squad taught her well, but with us, her eyes gave it away. And second, a woman who could navigate the hidden passageways of this house in the dark wouldn’t mistakenly walk into her bedframe. She knew this room like the back of her hand. Even in spaces she’d only entered a few times, she remembered the placement of everything. It was a talent she used to joke that would be useful if she decided to become a cat burglar.
Xander switched on the bedside light and shot me a lift of the brow, agreeing with my assessment.
Nerine had been front and center when things went down with Andraius. Was the Assassin Squad part of it?
Hell, no. If those women had any hand in it, they wouldn’t have left any trace of evidence for anyone to find. And from what I’d noticed within minutes of inspecting the room, someone had cleaned up, but they hadn’t quite mastered their craft.
Which meant all fingers pointed to the woman who currently searched her closet for clothes to wear.
We had to get her somewhere she felt safe to talk to us.
But would she talk to us? Would she trust us with her secret?
Everything from the last few days still sat raw among us. Walking away from her had nearly killed me. The taste of her lips and the feel of her fingers on me was a dream come true. However, we’d pushed the boundaries too many times, and it was better to stop everything than cause her more grief.
Now everything was different.
Or was it? I had no idea.
A few minutes later, Nerine stepped out of her closet wearing thick lounge pants and an oversized hoodie both designed more for the middle of winter than the warmth of late summer. The outfit clashed with everything she usually selected for this time of year. She hadn’t a clue that this made it even more apparent that she was hiding something.
I cocked my head to the side. “What the hell are you wearing? That whole get-up is too big for you.”
“This isn’t the time to question my clothing choices.” Her defiant glare prickled at my nerves, but I let it go.
Definitely not the time to pick a fight.
Xander blocked her view of me and gestured to the door. “Once you’re in a secure location, we need to talk.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, weariness in her question.
She understood what he meant. We’d spoken about this for months. It wasn’t how any of us had planned things. Then again, one never knew what monkey wrench fate would throw in our path.
“You have to make decisions,” I answered, softening my tone. “Set things in motion for the future.”
“You mean the family’s future.”
“Which includes your sisters and your mother,” I reminded her.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered, her head dropping briefly as she descended the stairs behind Xander.
“Of course you can.” I set a hand on her shoulder, making her stiffen for a moment before she relaxed and covered my fingers with hers, squeezing them.
Then, Xander added, “Anyone who survived the last few years with Andraius can handle anything.”
Nodding, she dropped her arm and pulled back her shoulders. “I am Peter Angelos’s Angel with a viper’s tongue. I can’t forget that again.”
I wanted to give her proper comfort, to hold her, but this wasn’t the time. Hell, I wanted to demand she tell us what happened. It wasn’t the time for that, either.
I gritted my teeth as I watched her mask the pain of each step she took down the stairs. It was as if she had trained in the type of body control to overcome the agony.
