"No," I said.
Diego sighed. He'd expected that answer. “You intend to see it through, then.”
I nodded and squeezed Rafael's hand. "We did the Alaska mission. Earned Hades's seal. Once we collect it, we'll have everything we need to formally challenge Constantine to trial by combat."
"And if you lose?"
"Then we die fighting the man who tried to make us weapons." I met Diego's eyes. "Constantine orchestrated everything. Dionysus's death, the Judas coin, sending Rafael after me. He tried to make us aimat each other, and when that didn't work, he sent his fucking eagles to finish the job."
I thought of Eight downstairs, building and destroying her tower. Of the seven other children we'd pulled out, all of them with numbers tattooed on their shoulders. Of Constantine's cold voice over the PA system, hunting us like animals.
"I'm not running from him," I said, and my voice was cold. "I'm ending this."
"You might die in there."
"I know." The rage settled into something colder, harder. "But if I don't fight, Constantine wins. He gets to keep playing puppet master with people's lives. He gets to keep making weapons out of children. I can't let that happen."
Diego nodded slowly. He understood. Maybe he didn't agree, but he understood.
"I wish I could come with you," he said after a moment. "Watch your back in there."
"You have other priorities now."
"Yeah." Diego's expression shifted, something complicated moving across his face. "I have to look after Jasper and Eight, amigo. I want to help, but..." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "Jasper needs to step back from this. He's been throwing himself at death for too long. And Eight, she needs somewhere stable to heal. The Kalderash can give her that. Give them both that."
"I know." Diego and Jasper had already done more than I had any right to ask. "Thank you. For everything."
"Don't thank me yet. You're not through this." Diego stood, his chair scraping against the floor. "But when you are—if you are—you know how to find us. Come by if you live. You owe me a drink."
He clapped a hand on my shoulder, then headed for the door. He paused at the threshold.
"The kids are safe, by the way. All eight of them. Florica's cousin runs a Kalderashkumpaniain Montana. They'll take them in, help them heal. No questions asked."
I closed my eyes and relaxed a little. "Good."
"Get some rest, amigo. You look like death." Diego's smile was tired but genuine. "Rafael's going to need you when he wakes up. Can't do that if you pass out from blood loss."
He left, closing the door softly behind him.
The room fell quiet except for the rain and Rafael's breathing. I sat there holding his hand, watching his chest rise and fall, and let myself feel the weight of what we'd done. We’d saved those kids, but at what cost?
I looked at the bandages covering half his face, and the guilt threatened to drag me under again. My thumb traced circles on his palm. His skin was still too cold.
"You're an idiot," I told him quietly. "A selfless, reckless idiot. You should have let me handle it." My voice cracked. "But you didn't. You never do."
Rafael's face stayed peaceful, slack with sedation. The bandages were clean white, professionally done. I wondered what was underneath. How bad it really was.
I'd seen the eagle's talon rake across his face from temple to cheekbone. There'd been blood everywhere, his eye just gone in a spray of red. I'd killed Augustus for it, but it didn't matter. The damage was done.
At some point, I fell asleep. My head dropped forward, chin to chest, and the exhaustion finally dragged me under. When I woke, my neck was stiff and my shoulder was sore again. Gray light filtered through the windows. Morning, maybe. Or afternoon. I couldn't tell.
Andrei came in with his medical kit. I let him cut away my shirt, clean my wounds, and check the stitches on my shoulder. He didn't try to make conversation. I was grateful for that too.
Florica brought food, sweet pastries that smelled like honey and cheese and were still warm from the oven.Flaó, Diego had called them. I ate one because she stood there waiting until I did. It tasted like nothing. I ate another. Still nothing. The sweetness that usually made my brain light up was just texture and temperature.
She said something in Spanish, her voice gentle. I didn't understand the words, but I understood the intent. Comfort. Kindness. I nodded, not trusting my voice, and she squeezed my uninjured shoulder before leaving.
I thanked her anyway.
