"Then help me protect you." Charlie shifted closer. "Reuben is expecting you to come back broken and compliant. Or to run and hide. He's not expecting you to have backup."
"You're three weeks old. You can barely control your speed. You faint at blood."
"I'm four weeks old now." Charlie's jaw set stubbornly. "And I can do it. I'm not losing you to him."
The words hung between them, maybe too honest, definitely too intense for whatever this was between them. But Charlie meant them. This connection, forged in blood and unlikely understanding—he'd fight for it.
Simon pulled him closer, until Charlie was practically in his lap. "You don't even know me. Not really."
"I know enough." Charlie's hand found Simon's face. "I know you came back for me on that roof. I know you lied to your boss for me. I know you question orders even when it costs you everything." Charlie paused, then pressed on when he could sense Simon was about to protest again.
"I know you're furious and grieving and lost." Charlie's thumb brushed across Simon's cheekbone. "And I know you're mine, the same way I'm yours. Blood bond or not, we're connected. So we face this together."
Simon made a sound that might have been a laugh or a sob. "When did you get so brave?"
"About five minutes ago." Charlie managed a small smile. "I'm probably going to panic later."
"Probably?"
"Definitely. But right now, I'm choosing not to." He leaned his forehead against Simon's. "We're going to make Reuben pay. And then we're going to build something better. A world where enhanced humans don't have to be weapons and vampires don't have to be monsters."
A knock interrupted them.
"I know you're both awake," Viktor called through the door. "And while I'm happy you worked out your sexual tension, we may have a problem."
Charlie scrambled for clothes while Simon moved with the speed of someone used to springing into action, already half-dressed by the time Charlie found his pants.
"What kind of problem?" Simon called through the door.
"There's something you need to see." Viktor's voice carried an edge Charlie hadn't heard before. "Meet me in my room."
Simon exchanged a look with Charlie. The hollow feeling from earlier returned, settling in Charlie's chest like a stone.
Viktor's door was already open when they arrived. He had a laptop on his desk.
When had he smuggled that in here?
"I couldn't sleep, so I started digging." Viktor gestured at the screen. "I found the retreat's financial records. Guess what their primary source of funding is?"
Simon moved closer to look. Charlie watched his jaw tighten.
"Anonymous donations," Viktor continued. "Routed through shell corporations. The same shell corporations the Organization uses for their operations."
"What does that mean?" Charlie asked.
Simon's hand found the edge of the desk, gripping hard. "Nothing good."
"Exactly." Viktor closed the laptop and shoved it into the desk's drawer. "Someone's coming."
A second later, Maya opened the door. "Hey, just wanted to let you know breakfast is in twenty minutes." Her voice was bright and cheerful. "Fair warning, Sundays are when the elders join us. It's supposed to be some big community bonding thing. Super fun."
"Elders?" Simon asked.
"The ones who actually run this place. They usually keep to the west wing, but once a week they grace us with their presence." Maya turned to go again. "Wear something nice! Or don't. Connor showed up in pajamas last time and nobody cared."
The three of them stayed silent until she closed the door behind her and her footsteps retreated down the hall.
"I want to meet these elders," Simon said quietly.
