Page 169

“Same poison. And this—” Tae reaches into his pocket, pulls out a folded slip of paper, and passes it to me. “It was in the performer’s hand.”

I unfold the paper and see it’s another one of the stalker’s letters with magazine cut-outs.

This one reads:

I’LL SEE YOU TONIGHT.

Fuck…

I knew the stalker was being too quiet.

Damián reads the letter and then turns to me. “What do we do?”

“We move.” I double-tap my ear comm. “Everyone, code red. We’re moving Cillian.”

I run back into the staff lounge, grab Cillian’s wrist, and start pulling him out of the room.

“Wait—Knox!”

“We’re moving. Now.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“The entertainer didn’t eat tuna, Cil. He was poisoned.”

“…Is he dead?”

“Yes.”

Cillian pales and his lower lip starts shaking. “Oh, my God…” He grabs my sleeve, panicking. “Wait, Knox, we can’t leave my friends out here.”

“We can’t bring them, you—”

“Please,” he begs, his hands trembling. “Last time, the stalker almost killed them too.”

I want to say no, that his security is the only thing I care about, but I know Cillian will never follow me or stay in his damn room unless he knows Leo and Julian are safe.

I glance up at Logan, who is standing right behind us, and he nods.

“Knox, get Cillian, Leo, Julian, and Finni into the primary suite right now,” Logan orders. “Lock it down, and I want the twins posted at the door. Then come meet us in the infirmary.”

“On it,” I say.

I gather Leo, Julian, and Finnian, ushering them alongside Cillian back toward the master suite.

We arrive, and the twins step out of the room after clearing it.

We walk inside, and I pull Cillian aside.

“Stay in the center of the room, away from the windows, and do not open this door for anyone except me or any other Harknett. Understood?”

“Yes…” Cil looks up at me as if there are a hundred things he wants to say, but can’t say them in front of the others. “…please be careful.”

“Always,” I murmur, forcing myself to step backward into the hallway.

Fuck…

Every bone in my body screams at me to stay with Cillian. To lock him down and never leave his side.