Not polite.
There’s something sharp under it, something that sits just below the surface and doesn’t need to be shown fully to be understood.
“Apologies on the delay,” she says, stepping back. “They were more jumpy than I expected. This one especially didn’t trust anyone.”
Her gaze moves to me. Then to Jackson.
There’s recognition there, not surprise.
“You wouldn’t believe the things I had to do to get him to trust me.”
I look at her properly then.
Not because of the words.
Because of how easily she stands in front of us.
No tension.
No hesitation.
Like this is her element.
“The Blackbird,” I say.
Her smile sharpens.
“Elijah,” she replies, stepping past me, close enough that I can feel her presence without her touching me. “Good to see you’re finally stepping into the family business.”
There’s no mockery in it.
Just fact.
She glances at Christian.
“Pleasure doing business with you.”
Then she leaves.
Just like that.
Jackson exhales behind me.
“That was her?” he says. “She’s a woman?”
Christian doesn’t look at him.
“Don’t underestimate the power of a woman in our world,” he says. “She may look fragile, but she can kill you in more ways than one before you even know what’s happening.”
His gaze flicks briefly toward the door.
“She’s been doing it since she was a girl.”
I don’t follow it. Because I’ve already seen him.
Luis.
He’s on the bed, unconscious, his body slack, his chest rising slowly. Something in my chest tightens.
