Leon stared at him for a long time, his jaw working. He finally let out a frustrated breath.
“Fine. We watch Brassard. Follow his shipments. See where they lead.” His expression hardened. “But heed my words, Evander. You cannot continue taking risks like you did last night. There will come a day when things won’t work out the way you want them to and the outcome, I fear, will be all too deadly.”
Evander’s face tightened but he didn’t respond.
Leon sighed, bade him a curt goodbye, and left.
Evander rejoined Viggo and the others in tense silence. The carriage ride back to the hotel was equally subdued, everyone lost in their private thoughts.
Viggo waited until they’d dispersed to their rooms before following Evander to his door.
“We should talk.”
Evander paused with his hand on the doorknob, his expression tired. “Viggo?—”
“Inside.”
Something in Viggo’s tone must have warned him not to argue. Evander opened the door and reluctantly stepped back to let him enter.
The room was already half-packed, Evander’s trunk open on the bed with neatly folded clothes stacked beside it. Viggo closed the door and leaned against it, arms crossed.
“Leon’s right.”
Evander stiffened where he’d walked past him and stopped in the middle of the room. “About what?”
“About all of it.” Viggo rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “We took a stupid risk last night. We should have told him what we were planning. We should have had backup.”
“There wasn’t time?—“
“There’s never time.” Viggo pushed off the door and crossed to where Evander stood. “That’s always your excuse. We have to act now, we can’t wait, the opportunity will pass.” He grasped Evander’s shoulders, forcing the mage to meet his eyes. “One day that excuse is going to get you killed.”
Evander’s mouth thinned. “You think I don’t know that? And you’re not exactly one to talk!”
“I know.” Viggo’s grip tightened. “And I think you don’t care. I think you’ve convinced yourself that this mission matters more than your life. More than any of our lives.”
Anger darkened Evander’s eyes. “That’s not?—”
“Isn’t it?” Viggo interrupted. “You jumped in front of a train, Evander. You walked into Brassard’s mansion knowing it could be a trap. I’m equally guilty for our actions last night. But you? You keep throwing yourself into danger like you’re expendable and I’m bloody terrified that one day I won’t be fast enough to save you.”
His harsh words echoed in the fraught silence that stretched between them.
Evander stared at him, hurt warring with resentment in his eyes. Hurt won.
“I’m not trying to get myself killed,” he mumbled, his shoulders slowly sagging.
Viggo’s tone softened. “Then what are you trying to do?”
“My job.” Evander’s voice cracked slightly as he met Viggo’s gaze. “People are dying, Viggo. Thralls, mages, scholars—anyonewho gets too close to whatever ‘I’ is planning. If I don’t stop it, who will?”
“Not you alone.” Viggo gentled his grip and slid his hands up to cup Evander’s face, his heart twisting at the anguish he could read in the mage’s eyes. “That’s the point. You’re not alone in this. You have a team. You have me.” He pressed his forehead to Evander’s. “Let us help carry this burden.”
Evander’s breath shuddered out of him. His hands came up to rest on Viggo’s chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I know.” Viggo tilted Evander’s chin up with a knuckle. “Just so you know, I’m not going anywhere.”
He kissed him then, slow and tender, a promise rather than a demand. Evander melted into him with a soft sound, his hands sliding up to wind around Viggo’s neck, as hungry for the kiss as Viggo was.
