My jaw flexes beneath her touch. She’s right, and we both know it. The second she’s out of my sight, I’ll be torn between hunting Finn and ensuring she’s safe. And that split-second of distraction could get us both killed.
“I don’t know how long I’ve been here,” she continues, voice cracking but determined. “And I don’t think I want to know. But I’m not going anywhere without you again. I can’t.”
“Raven,” I try again, but she shakes her head.
“P-please don’t make me,” she sniffles. “I love you, Matteo. Don’t send me away.”
Something inside my chest fractures at the naked terror beneath her determination. My Raven—my brave, chaotic, unstoppable Raven—has never been afraid like this. Has never looked so close to breaking. And I put her in this position by not finding her faster.
“Please,” she whispers, so quiet I barely hear it. “Don’t make me leave you again.”
I close my eye, pressing my face against her hair, breathing in the scent of her beneath the blood and sweat. Every instinct screams at me to get her out, to put her somewhere safe where Finn Kearney—no, Salvador Greco—can never touch her again.
But my Little Thief is right. Separating now could be more dangerous than staying together.
“Fine,” I relent, the word rough with reluctance. “But you stay behind me. You do what I say, when I say it. No arguments, no questions. Understand?”
She nods against my chest, relief making her sag further into my arms. “I understand.”
I press a hard kiss to her temple, tasting salt. “And the second—the fucking second—I tell you to run, you run. No matter what’s happening to me. Promise me.”
She doesn’t answer, and I grip her shoulders, forcing her to look at me.
“Promise me, Raven.”
Her eyes meet mine, defiant even now. “I promise to try.” It’s the best I’m going to get, and we both know it.
I take her hand, lacing my fingers with hers, feeling the tremors still running through her body. She’s running on nothing but adrenaline and fear, exhaustion evident in the shadows beneath her eyes and the way she leans into me for support.
“Stay close,” I murmur, pulling her against my side. “And stay quiet.”
We move deeper into the warehouse, the emergency lights cast our shadows in stark relief against the concrete walls. My eyepatch catches the dim red glow, turning the leather into something that gleams wetly in the darkness like fresh blood.
Raven’s breath comes in shallow pants against my side, but she keeps pace, her fingers locked with mine in a grip so tight it borders on painful.
I navigate the warren of hallways like I’ve memorized the floor plan, because I have. Instead of showing up in a blaze of glory, Piper made me study every part of the building. Which I’m glad for now.
We reach the main storage area, a cavernous space filled with stacked crates and industrial shelving that disappears into shadows overhead. Perfect.
I release Raven’s hand just long enough to dig inside my jacket, pulling out what looks like a handful of small cylindersand wires. She watches, her eyes widening as I press one against a support beam and another near a stack of empty pallets.
Her fingers find my arm, questioning without words. “When I’m done, the only exit will be through the loading dock,” I explain, my voice low and matter-of-fact as I thread more devices along the wall behind us. “We’re setting and controlling the cage.”
“With what?” Her voice cracks on the question, raw and barely audible.
I flash her a smile that feels more like baring my teeth. “Fireworks and a few other things I picked up from the wreckage of North Coast Effects.” I slide the last device into place, the small red activation light blinking steadily against the concrete.
Understanding dawns in her eyes, followed by something darker—a shadow of the same vengeful hunger that’s been consuming me since she disappeared. She nods once, sharply and decisively.
“Keep close,” I murmur, pulling her against my side again as I retrieve my lighter from my pocket. The familiar weight of it grounds me, centers me. This is what I do best. This is who I’ve always been. “This is going to get very loud and very bright. When it does, we move deeper in.”
Raven’s fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt, anchoring herself to me. Her body still trembles, but there’s steel beneath the exhaustion now. “Let’s burn this motherfucker down.”
Pride surges through me, fierce and burning. My Little Thief, afraid but standing her ground. I flick the lighter open, the small flame dancing in the darkness like a promise.
“Stay behind me,” I remind her, then touch the flame to the first detonator.
For three heartbeats, nothing happens—then the world explodes into chaos. The first firework screams to life, shootingacross the warehouse floor in a trail of blue-white sparks before exploding against a far wall.
