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He looked down.

I crouched, still holding his hand because letting go felt like handing his location to the worst possible delivery service.

“Careful,” he said.

My eyes flicked up. “Did you just tell me to be careful while we’re actively following a Hell leash to a haunted cabin?”

“Yes.”

“Adorable.”

“It was not meant to be adorable.”

“That’s what makes it worse.”

I brushed my free fingers over the dirt without touching the old mark directly. The residual Magic rose in my Sight, thin, gray and black, threaded with tired purple and old iron.

“This route was used for Ward maintenance,” I said slowly. “A lot. Guy’s Magic is everywhere, but not fresh. Older layers. Repeated. Like he walked this road for years carrying reinforcement spells.”

Knox’s face changed. Not surprise. Pain.

“He held this place together,” he murmured.

I looked at him. “Yeah.”

And there it was. The part neither brother had said out loud yet. Guy had not merely survived Arrhythmia. He had kept it from failing.

For nearly a century, while Knox burned in Hell, Guy had spent his own life feeding Dragon Magic into a prison he never should have been thrown into, holding back a Hellmouth so the world outside could sleep.

Two brothers.

One at a door.

One inside a lock.

Both used.

Both still standing.

My throat tightened.

I stood too fast and nearly knocked my forehead into Knox’s chest. Very smooth. Extremely dignified.

He steadied me with one hand at my elbow.

“You all right?”

“Fine.” I cleared my throat. “Just experiencing an emotion. Horrifying. Would not recommend.”

His eyes softened. Goddess help me, they softened.

“Maisie…”

“Don’t.” I pointed at him. “If you say something kind right now, I will become impossible to deal with.”

“You’re already impossible to deal with.”

“Exactly. Imagine me worse.”