“What’s your name?” Bay asks, even though she already knows, her voice so gentle it actually throws me off for a second. I could roll my eyes. Could toss some cold comment her way.
But I don’t.
Myko would never let it go—and worse, it would crack the cold calm I’ve been building. And I don't crack. Not in front of people I might need to control.
“True,”he growls in my head, always just early enough to annoy me.“For the 'never let it go' part, anyway.”
Roran finally turns her head, blinking at Bay like she doesn’t know how to process basic kindness. I would be confused too—it feels like we’re pulling some half-assed good cop, bad cop routine without even trying. That was never the plan.
“Roran,” she answers quietly, eyes dropping to her knees, uncomfortable.
She had some fight in her earlier. Now she’s too quiet, lost in her own head, and I doubt her thoughts are anything good.
Roran.
I clock the soft accent of her name rolls off her tongue as I push open the back door on my side.
“Get out,” I order, ignoring Bay’s laser-eyed glare burning through my temple. We’re not here to bond or make friends, and Roran soul’s already whispering loud enough to give me a headache.
“I think she’s sick. Or something’s wrong with her body,”I tell Myko.“Her soul… it’s not making any sense.”
“I sense it too,”he chimes in, low and distant in my mind. Like he’s been chewing on that thought for a while and still hasn’t figured it out.
“Something about her feels… different.”
Roran takes a deep breath, probably assessing her chances of running—her eyes flick from one side of the car to the other.
Good luck with that.
“We don’t have all day,” I say coldly, tilting my chin toward her door. “Get. Out.”
She swallows hard, then quickly opens the door and steps out, closing it gently behind her.
She hasn’t said a word since we left the gate. That’s fine by me. I’d rather pull the truth from her somewhere private anyway.
“Malec,” Pedro calls, touching my back as he steps out of the driver’s seat.
I glance over, making sure Bay’s taking Roran on the other side of the car, before turning to him. I raise a brow when he still hasn’t spoken.
He leans in slowly, like he’s about to whisper something in my ear—
Then I feel it. The cold metal of his gun slipping into the waistband at the back of my jeans.
“One can never be too cautious,” he mutters. “That was too easy. Don’t trust a word she says until we confirm it.”
My body tenses. It’s the first time he’s ever handed me his gun like this, and the way he’s acting, the way his voice dropped…
We don’t need a weapon. I know our protocols by heart.
So why is he so tense now?
Still, I nod. “I’ll know if she’s lying. Don’t forget.”
My voice is low, just above a breath, as I look past him through the open window.
Bay is holding Roran’s arm, whispering something in her ear.
“Tell my aunt to stop making friends. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”
