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“Who— Styx.”
“Yeah.” I smirk at his scowl, but my smile fades quickly. “She said you got the name of the guy who set it all up.”
“I did what had to be done.”
A shadow passes over his expression. It’s a glimpse behind the mask of the death dragon. One of so many he’s shown me so far. He doesn’t enjoy hurting others. But he also won’t hesitate if it means protecting the ones he cares about.
He doesn’t want to kill innocents either, I realize.
“Good,” I say, drawing a look of surprise from him. “I’m glad you’re keeping people safe.”
He doesn’t answer, but I can feel him relax at my acceptance.
We walk a bit in silence.
My armor earns me stares from the people we pass. I do my best to ignore them, but it feels strange to be back here. Like a lifetime has passed in my absence. Maybe that’s because, even in such a short amount of time, I’ve changed, but this world hasn’t.
“Are you sure about stopping at my house first?” I ask. “You said you were here the other night and you didn’t run into anyone. Maybe they aren’t watching the place after all.”
“They’re watching.”
He doesn’t meet my gaze.
“Legion,” I say, my tone a warning.
His expression tightens, and he continues to look straight ahead as he says, “I may have been inaccurate with the details of my visit.”
“Inaccurate,” I repeat, glaring daggers at his cheek.
He glances at me then away again. “There may have been a couple of other visitors during my time collecting your plants. And I may have neutralized them.”
“Do you think this vague military-speak is going to trick me into not being pissed at you?” I ask.
He looks over at me, an evil grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “I had hoped.”
“How many?”
He sighs. “Three.”
“And what did you do with the bodies?”
He shrugs. “I left them. They deserve to bury their own dead. I can’t do it all.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
My temper cools as I realize, even more important than his omission—lie, technically—is the fact that he’s right. It’s daylight, which means the club will be empty. Vamps don’t love the sun, but it won’t stop them either. Letting them come to us is the smartest play. Going home will be like sending up a bat signal to let the Crimson Roses know where we are.
“We’re going to talk about this later,” I grumble.
Legion has the audacity to wink. “I look forward to it.”
When my house comes into view, emotion slams into me. Grief weighs heavily as my gaze darts toward the backyard—the last place I saw Juniper.
I make my way toward the front door, glad to bypass the backyard and all its memories. Beside me, Legion tenses. There’s no visible change in our surroundings, but I somehow just know he’s poised and ready for anything. It reassures me.
When we reach the front porch, Legion grabs my arm.
“I’m going in first,” he says, daring me to argue.
