He doesn’t look back.
Good.
Let that be the first door he shuts.
Shady moves toward the exit, but I step in front of him before he reaches it.
He stops.
For the first time, up close, I see how bad the blood is. It has soaked the side of his shirt and dried dark near his belt. His face is gray under the calm. Pain lives in the tight set of his mouth, but he is too stubborn or too broken to admit it.
“Bring her back,” I say.
His gaze holds mine.
“I will.”
“Not as your pride.”
Something moves in his eyes.
I force the words out even though they might be cruel. Maybe because they need to be.
“Bring her back as Lady.”
His throat works.
“I know what she is.”
“No,” I say softly. “You know you want her. That isn’t the same thing.”
Behind me, Diablo goes still.
Good. He can hear it too. Maybe every man in this room should.
Shady takes the hit without flinching.
Then he nods once.
“You’re right.”
I didn’t expect that. It hurts worse that he means it. He turns toward the door.
Lady’s frozen face watches from the screen as the men she trusted leave to find her.
Diablo comes back to me for one second. Just one. His hand slides to the back of my neck, careful, grounding, warm. He presses his forehead to mine like he is giving himself a breath he doesn’t have time for.
“I’m coming back,” he says.
“You better.”
His mouth brushes mine.
Not a kiss meant to start anything.
Then he is gone.
Vice follows. Magic. Six. Shady last, because even now he checks the room before he leaves it.
