My jaw locks. The mug in my hand cracks down the side, a quiet fracture that spills coffee across the table and bleeds through my notes. I don’t even glance at it. Fuck those notes.
Why am I here while she’s there?
Kieran’s voice filters through the phone, steady but tight. “She’s not scared. You should see her face. She’s still furious.”
That makes something dark in me twist and reshape.
Good.
Let her be furious.
Fear keeps people alive, but anger makes them dangerous… And I want her to be as dangerous as possible.
Jace paces across the loft, restless energy in motion. “Did he hurt her?”
I keep my eyes on the screen. “Not yet.”
“Don’t be cryptic,” he snarls. “She messaged. She’s shaking.”
“She’s not shaking,” I argue. “She’s alive and ready to fight.”
“But not safe.” That comes from Kieran again, his voice low through the line, like he’s whispering.
He’s somewhere outside her building; his reflection flashes in one of the feed cameras, a hooded figure near a newspaper stand.
Watching. Waiting.
We all saw her smile this morning. It was so pure and genuine.
But we all knew it wouldn’t last, either. Not yet.
I push away from the table, stomp to the kitchen for a dish towel, and wipe my hand clean before taking my tablet.
“Where are you going?” Jace asks.
“To do what should’ve been done days ago.”
He moves in front of me, blocking my path to the door. “You’re not going after him alone.”
I meet his eyes. “Watch me.”
“He’s dangerous.”
“So am I.”
“We made a deal.” Kieran’s voice drops to steel through the phone. “You made a fucking promise.”
“The deal was: protect her,” I say, my control holding on by a thread. “Not sit on our hands while he escalates.”
“She’s not ready for a body count,” Jace says quietly, trying to defuse me. “Not yet.”
I laugh, short and hollow. “You think she doesn’t know what we are?”
“She doesn’t know whatyou are,” he bites out.
I take a step closer, heat rising through my limbs. “Then she’ll learn.”
Silence folds over the room, the pressure from my anger a palpable thing I can reach out and touch.
