Page 74 of The Final Cut

“Verbal so far. Quasi-affectionate.” Sabine’s eyes flick back to Deacon. “You know her style.”

His jaw shifts.

I do. I have seen enough of Isabel to understand that a hand on the cheek is more horrific than a slap.

Sabine continues. “Delia overheard something last night. I do not know how much, but it was enough to leave her pale at dinner.”

“What was said?” Deacon asks.

“Something about orders for the hospital. Another attempt on Boudreaux. They want Reva’s location out of him, first, and then they want him dead.”

I go very still.

Ever speaks in my ear, voice cold enough to frost glass. “Shiloh needs to know.”

I touch the comm twice, acknowledgement without sound.

Sabine notices the movement but doesn’t comment.

“Go on,” I say.

“Isabel also wants you. Naturally.” Her gaze returns to Deacon. “Alive if convenient. Made an example of, if not. She says you betrayed her.”

“We know I did.”

The simplicity of that answer lands harder than any attempt at defense would have.

Sabine’s throat moves. “She’s angrier about you than about the girl.”

“Reva,” Deacon says. “Her name is Reva.”

Sabine glances at me, then back to him. “About Reva.”

“And Delia?” I ask.

Sabine’s hands fold in front of her, fingers threaded tight. The first sign of nerves. “If Isabel decides Delia’s loyalty has shifted, I don’t see her hesitating. She may dress it as instruction or grief or correction, but the result will be the same. Delia has value because she is obedient and because people inside La Rosa recognize the bloodline. If she becomes visibly disloyal, Isabel will make her survival cost too much to matter.”

Deacon’s eyes flatten.

There it is again. That instinct. Cut through the house. Take the girl. Burn every bridge afterward.

I step into it before it can grow legs. “How do we extract her without turning Isabel’s full force toward Reva?”

Sabine looks at me as if that is the first intelligent question she has heard tonight. “You don’t do it. You don’t take Delia from the house. Not yet, anyway.”

Deacon’s head turns.

She holds up a hand. “Listen before you decide I am a coward.”

“I didn’t say coward.”

“You thought something close.”

“I thought you had two seconds to explain.”

She gives him a humorless look. “Shut the hell up and listen, then.”

I almost like her.