Daniel’s fingers brush her wrist in his second attempt to grab her.
Jace is there instantly, launching himself from behind a group of guys, beating Eris and Roo to the deflection.
Good.
Kieran flanks from the other side, cutting off escape without a word.
Perfect.
Daniel’s head snaps up, eyes darting between them, trying to assess who he can intimidate first. He doesn’t even register me until my hand lands on his shoulder from behind.
Immovable.
Possessive.
His body tenses under my touch. Eris gives him a smug grin, and Roo pulls a blade from her clutch, discarding the bag on the table now that it’s empty.
I lean in, my mouth close to his ear.
“Touch her again,” I warn, loud enough that he can hear the promise in my voice. “And I’ll remove your teeth, one by one, and make you swallow them.”
He laughs and tries to turn, but it’s a brittle sound that belies his current mental state.
I don’t let him move.
“You see them?” I continue, pointing toward Jace and Kieran with my free hand. “They’ll break your fingers. Slowly. Methodically. Probably argue about technique and tools while they do it.”
“And you?” he snaps, voice thready.
I smile at Eris, her gaze looking beyond him to lock onto me.
“I’ll make you wish we stopped at your fingers.”
Eris glances from Kieran to Jace to me, marveling at us like we’re weapons she already knows how to wield. Something heavy shifts inside me, a weight I’d long forgotten.
This used to be my line… the final say in a decision like this.
I was always the one ready to end things. Jace would break bones. Kieran would dismantle systems. I was the one who decided when someone stopped breathing.
But now?
They’re here, ready and willing, waiting forherword. And I’ve never been more thankful not to be the one in charge.
I shove Daniel forward, and Jace blocks him from getting too close to Eris with a well-placed forearm. Kieran slides Roo to the side, corralling both women toward the dance floor and away from our portion of their plan.
Daniel looks between us, calculating his chances, realizing too late that there is no winning move left.
I give him two seconds, maybe three, then I shove him again. This time, I force him toward the exit hard enough to make our message clear.
“Walk,” I command. “Now.”
He stumbles and catches himself, straightening as if he thinks dignity might save him. But he walks, likely thinking he’s obliging me.
I don’t look at the crowd or explain to the bouncers why I’m kicking a man out of the bar.
This isn’t a spectacle.
It’s a sentencing.
And Daniel has just been informed that his execution date exists.
He just doesn’t know it’s tonight.
We do, though…
And this time, Eris won’t be the only one pulling the trigger.
