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“I’ll teleport you back to your house so you can pack some stuff.” Ciaran stood. “Are members of the Force still there cleaning up the mess, Grams?”

Jolene nodded. “It will no doubt take them a while.” Her face softened as her gaze slid to Khloé. “We won’t let this—Enoch—taint your home, sweetheart. He doesn’t get to have that power. Before you go anywhere, you need to call both your parents and tell them what happened tonight.”

Fuck, those conversations wouldn’t go well. “I’ll do it when I’m packing my stuff.”

Of course, both her parents lost their mind on hearing that Enoch had struck again. They both also tried convincing her to stay with them for a while, but they eventually conceded that staying in the Underground would be a better option.

Keenan came with her to her house while she packed, but he didn’t say a word. Nor did he speak when, as promised, Harper helped her get settled into the penthouse. It really was gorgeous with the shiny marble flooring, the stylish custom furnishings, the unique artwork, and the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was also as freakishly clean as Khloé’s home, so that was enough to make it feel homey for her.

Khloé doubted she’d make use of the gym during her stay—she was far too lazy for that. But she’d be happy to try out the sauna at some point.

As the couple were leaving, Knox said, “If you need anything, if there’s a problem of any kind, press this.” He gestured at a button on the keypad attached to the entryway wall. “It will alert the hotel staff. You probably won’t need to, of course, given that you’ll have Keenan with you.” He looked at the sentinel, who was staring out of the window overlooking the Underground.

“Sleep well,” said Harper, giving Khloé a quick hug. “See you tomorrow, Keenan.”

The couple then stepped into the elevator, which soon began to descend.

Khloé turned and walked into the living area, her feet dragging. God, she was dog tired. Which was unsurprising, given that she’d expended a whole lot of psychic energy tonight. “I need to go shower and clean my wounds—I’m sure you’ve noticed I absolutely reek,” she said to Keenan’s back.

He slowly turned to face her, and his eyes swept over her injuries again. He crossed to her, tension in every line of his body. A sense of helplessness poured off him, making her chest ache.

He skimmed his hand up her arm. “I hate seeing you wounded,” he said, his voice thick with suppressed anger. “It makes me want to kill.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. “I couldn’t get to you.” He almost choked on the words. “You kept your promise, you called out to me. But I couldn’t do my part and get to you.” Guilt dripped from his voice.

She loosely fisted his shirt with one hand while combing her fingers through his hair. “That wasn’t your fault.”

Shame snaking through his system, Keenan opened his eyes. “You could be dead now. Worse, you could be one of Enoch’s fucking puppets.” Just the thought of her shuffling toward him, her eyes empty, her face pale and slack, made his stomach lurch.

There would have been only one thing that Keenan could have done for her—destroy her, just as she’d destroyed those other corpses tonight. But it would have killed something inside him to do it. Something that never would have healed.

Khloé was laughter and mischief and life. Enoch was intending on snuffing that out. The worst of it was … Enoch could do it without ever again touching her, because she was already ill, and it was getting worse.

Every moment of every day, it played on his mind that she was riddled with a fucking infection—one he had no way of fighting. Not without divine help. Literally. And so far, he’d had no luck getting it for her.

He felt like he was letting her down. Felt like the biggest fucking failure. What good was all his power and training if he couldn’t protect the person who mattered most to him?

His demon didn’t do “guilt,” so it felt none of the shame that assailed Keenan. But the entity was all eaten up by the powerlessness that taunted them both. It had no intention of losing Khloé but, like Keenan, it could almost feel her slipping away.

Earlier, he’d paced outside her house with the others who’d gathered there on noticing the shield. He’d struck it with power over and over, but the shield hadn’t once faltered. Not even when he, Jolene, and the sentinels worked together to try taking it down. They’d needed Khloé for that—the person inside it.

“You have no reason to feel guilty, Keenan. Nothing that happened tonight was on you. What went down was bad, I know, but you’re missing the positives. His plan was an epic failure. He didn’t manage to trap me. He didn’t manage to kill me via his puppets or even severely wound me. I saw how much that infuriated him when I spoke to him—the defeat was hard for him to take.

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