I stop dead in the middle of the hall. “No.” The word comes out flat and final. “I’m not leaving.”
Wren blinks rapidly. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m staying here.” I gesture vaguely around the mansion.
Wren’s confusion deepens, but before she can respond, Blue appears behind me. I can feel his presence without turning around, that familiar electricity he brings to any room.
Wren’s eyes dart between me and Blue, clearly looking for guidance on how to handle this situation. Blue gives her a look—one of those silent communications that speaks volumes.
“Stop talking with your eyes,” I snap, spinning around to face him. “Both of you. If you have something to say, say it out loud.”
Before Blue can respond, the doorbell echoes through the house. Wren bustles toward the front door, muttering about unexpected visitors and proper calling hours.
When she opens it, Ash steps inside, and for the first time in two days, something shifts in the oppressive atmosphere of Maison Rouge. He looks like he’s been running, his casual clothes slightly disheveled, but his eyes are bright with purpose.
“Blue,” he says immediately, spotting him behind me. “Got it done.”
“What did you get done?” I interrupt before Blue can respond. That familiar prickle of being excluded from important conversations starts up my spine.
Ash glances between Blue and me, clearly sensing the tension. Blue opens his mouth, probably to suggest they adjourn to his study for a private conversation.
“Stop,” I say, holding up my hand. “Just stop. If this has to do with the Crow, then I have a right to know too. We’re not doing the whole ‘let’s go talk in private while Saylor waits in the hall like a good little girl’ thing.”
Blue closes his mouth, looking slightly put out.
“So what did you get done?” I ask Ash.
“I managed to bribe the Crow responsible for guarding the roads and perimeters around Brutus’s hideout,” he explains. “Had some past contacts with a few of them from when I was a Crow. Turns out some of them hate Brutus as much as I do.”
“And?” I lean forward.
“We can move in tonight without being detected.” Ash grins. “Time for revenge.”
Finally. Finally, we’re going to make them pay for Hans, for Dad, for everything they’ve stolen from us.
“I’m coming,” I announce immediately.
“No,” Blue says, his tone carrying that edge that usually makes people obey without question. “You’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
Blue’s jaw tightens. “Saylor, this isn’t—” He stops, runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t lose you too. I can’t watch another person I’m supposed to protect die because I wasn’t careful enough.”
The raw honesty in his voice catches me off guard. This isn’t about my capabilities. This is about Hans. About Peter. About everyone he’s lost.
“Hans died protecting me,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “My father was murdered by these same bastards. How is this not my fight?”
“You can’t even see blood without passing out,” Blue points out, which stings because he’s absolutely right. “You’re not equipped for combat.”
The honesty cuts deeper than I want to admit, but it doesn’t change anything fundamental. “I’m still going.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
We stare at each other across the foyer, and I can see him trying different arguments in his head, discarding each one as it occurs to him. Wren stands frozen by the door like she’s watching a tennis match, and Ash appears to be trying not to laugh.
“These aren’t the men from my basement,” Blue says finally. “This is real combat. Real violence. People are going to die, and it’s going to be messy and brutal and—”
