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“Thought you might.” I turned into him. “I’m not great with words, not like you. I-I can’t say s-such lovely things. I don’t have it in me. But what I can say is that you are my person, Conor.” I stared straight at him. “You make me want to be someone who is deserving of you. You make me want to be happy. You make me want peace. You. Not Kat, not Vana. You. I want to live, Conor,” I rasped, aware that tears were flooding my eyes. “I want to live with you. Can we do that? Can we live?”
His smile was gentle as he cupped my cheek. “I can’t wait. We’ve got a lot to do, Star. We’ve got a lot of life to live. You sure you’re ready for that?”
“I was born ready.”
“You know what? I think you were.”
He smirked and united our mouths in a soft, tender kiss that had me closing my eyes with how perfect it was.
How perfect he was.
Those impossible-to-explain citrus notes that always reminded me of him surrounded me, drowning me in his scent. As I sucked it down, breathed him in, and found comfort in his arms, I forgot for a moment what was about to happen.
That was the power of this man.
“Does this mean I’ve earned atonement?” I whispered, staring into his eyes and drowning in them.
“You have.” He smiled before gracing me with another gentle kiss. “Now, as the woman who chopped off the head of the snake that eats itself,” he rumbled against my lips, “your work today is not done. You’ve still got some Is to dot and Ts to cross…
“No matter how long that takes, we handle this together, and in between, we can still live, baby. We can still have more than we had yesterday.”
With a shaky nod, believing in him, I stared at him and put on the mask I never needed to use when we were alone.
He chucked me under the chin and surprised me by gently pressing down on the wings of my phoenix tattoo that peeped out from beneath my sweetheart neckline. “Hello, Lodestar.”
“Hello, aCoooooig,” I greeted before I turned to the monitor and took a seat in front of it.
There, waiting for me on mute, were the faces of the Interpol team who I’d used to bring down the Sparrows.
Goldstein, Hoyt, as well as Ingridsdottir, Schmidt, and Deschamps.
Hoyt, as always, was scowling. “Why were we commanded to attend this meeting?”
Calmly, I studied her. “In our Brothers we trust.”
Her eyes widened then she, Ingridsdottir, and Deschamps replied, “In our Brothers we trust.”
The second the last word drifted from their lips, Goldstein demanded, “What the hell?” Then, his features pinched as red blossomed on each of the Brothers’ foreheads, then their skulls fractured, blood spurting where a sniper’s bullet blew their brains out.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Schmidt screamed as the other top members of the squad collapsed, some falling forward, others backward.
“Conor,” Goldstein snarled, jerking to his feet. “You—”
“The New World Sparrows,” I stated, speaking over him, “and the United Brotherhood were the two faces of the same coin, Aaron.
“Anton, with the dismantling of the Sparrows, became the head of that unified group, but tonight, he suffered a heart attack. I am the new leader, and together, we’re going to disassemble the power source, much as we have with the Sparrows.”
His mouth gaped like a goldfish. “Y-You, what? I don’t… Conor?”
Conor, as calm as I, rested a hand on my shoulder. “She’s right, Goldstein. The Sparrows are choir boys in comparison to the Brotherhood.”
“You want to take them down?” Schmidt rasped.
“I do. I want their bones dusting the floor. I want their blood shed and their asses rotting in jail cells. We’re not going to stop until their networks are infiltrated and infected and infested until they’re no more. Do you understand?
“As of now, you are the two members of the team who we officially know are not Brothers.
"Interpol is riddled with Brothers so we’ll keep Anton’s passing a secret, but I expect you to uncover the parasites in your department.
