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“He talked.” Rafe muttered.

Silence.

“No.”

I stared into nothing, but I saw it all.

“He was tortured first.”

Rafe took the long way home. City streets avoided. Quiet and calm like we both needed time to think. The sweet scent of rain grew bolder as we turned into the driveway. I was glad to be free from the stench of blood.

The car slowed as we neared the house.

“You going to tell her?”

“No.”

I breathed deep.

“I’m going to prepare her.”

Rafe stopped the car.

“Meet me in the kitchen. There’s something you need to see.”

I climbed out. Tires crunched on stone. The stench of the exhaust clung to me as I climbed the stairs and went inside. I didn’t have to wait long. The thud of the rear door sounded. Rafe’s heavy steps methodical.

I opened the pantry door.

The click of the light.

“Well?” I waited.

“Kitchen blade missing. Thin profile. Close-contact choice.”

I nodded.

“A jar of fruit. Bottles of water. Is she hungry?”

“A poker from the fireplace in the library.” I added slowly. “And this afternoon my own gun from the Archive. Pointed at me.”

“She tried to kill you?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“She’s terrified.”

The truth of it settled instantly. Blood. Cloves. Concrete dust. “She’s preparing for war.”

“Vivienne and Guild?”

I nodded.

“What are you going to do?”

I reached into my pocket, pulled out my own blade, placed it on the counter and moved to the refrigerator, pulling out the wrapped plate of sliced fruit. “If she’s going to handle a knife, then she needs to know how to use it.”

“I’ll have the house protected.”