Glancing up, I catch the glimmer. “What are you thinking?”
That glimmer dulls, hidden away. “Nothing.”
Outrage explodes in my chest, and I surge forward, pressing my forehead against hers painfully.She always does this—fucking hides from me. I broke that habit years ago, and I’ll be damned if she falls back into old habits.
Old habits mean not eating enough and wasting away under the stress of this life.
Old habits mean hurting herself to be grounded.
Old habits mean we’ll never fix this.
Fuck that.
“I said if you lied again, you’d regret it.”
Her lips press closed, and I laugh—but it’s not pleasant.
She’s lucky she almost died—because I’m this close to killing her. I’m going to take her to Hell, where only she and I can destroy the other for the rest of eternity.
Hayes barges in, cell to his ear.I grab his shirt, knife already at his neck. A thin line of red appears beneath his dark beard.
Frankly, I think he looks better like this. I’m in no mood for more fucking distractions or interruptions. Not when it comes to Maeve. We’re fixing thisnow.
“Stop,” Maeve commands, word soft. But there is steel in them—the voice of a captain.
“Speak,” I demand of the hitter. “Or I’ll fucking cut your head off.”
“Rare form tonight,” he quips, and I grin.
“We can always find a new second, Prince.Talk.”
Shrugging me off, he waves the cellphone into the air. “I wouldn’t be intruding if it wasn’t important.” With regretful eyes, he turns to his captain. He’s cowed—a child bringing home a broken toy. “It’s Lex and Sloane, Maeve. Car bomb went off twenty minutes ago.”
The air leaves the room. My heart pounds in my ears, but I ignore it in favor of looking at Maeve.
Her face turns ashen, eyes so wide they remind me of when I first met her. Too big for her face, they show everything—if you know how to look for it.
As kids, Maeve chased moths outside at night when no one was looking—no one except me. She would carry them to plants and hide them from birds. When she found them dead, she mourned them.
That’s where all the taxidermist bugs came from—a fascination with their beauty, and a way to honor their passing. A way to remember her innocence.
And right now, those eyes that used to grieve for such small creatures are full of so much pain, I’d rather cut my heart outthan allow her to ache. Terror drains the light from them, and her fingers, still stained pink, tremble as they touch her lips. Not a sound breaks free, but I know she’s holding on to that anguish with both hands.
“Causalities.” She tenses, bracing for the impact.
“One.”
She doesn’t breathe. “Who?”
Hayes exhales, trying to catch her gaze. “Tony, Lex’s second.”
Life returns to the room, and Maeve screws her eyes shut. As thankful as I am it’s not Sloane, or,fuck,her husband, Tony was an ally.
He was Maeve’s inside man.
“What happened?”
Hayes sits beside her on the bed, and I hover, hands fisting at my sides. She’s still barely clothed under that thin blanket, and he’s too close. That man could hold all the stars in the night sky for Collins, but it doesn’t mean I want him seeingher.
