I pin her harder to keep her from hurting herself, and through gritted teeth I bark, "Get her up!"
Tommy scrambles back in, wide-eyed, shaken, but he grabs her by the arms and hauls her upright as I stand.
"Take her to the East Wing. Have the room stripped of anything sharp. Lock her in."
"Boss..."
"Do it," I snap. "And tell no one she's there."
Tommy nods and drags her out of the room. Zaria limps along without speaking.
I watch as they leave, and I stand there, staring at the ceiling where the bullet hole is, my pulse hitting fast. I've never dealt with anyone like this.
Sure, I've ended men who were stoic when it was their time, but volunteering to do it themselves? No, never.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I pull it out.
Declan.
I stare at the screen, my thumb hovering over the answer button.
If I tell him now, he'll demand I kill her. He'll want her blood for what Cormac did to our father. For what the Morrígan did to Keira, and I wouldn't blame him.
But Zaria knows too much.
The nurse. Brother George. Shadowharbor's endgame. The meeting. The systematic dismantling of everything we've built.
Zaria knows all of it. She's the only living person who does other than the man who wants us dead.
She's the key to unraveling the Morrígan, and she tried to die in my basement because she thought it was mercy.
I let the call go to voicemail and I know that in this, it's the first big decision I've made as the newly minted head of this family.
I need to know how Cormac operates. What his rituals mean. What his next steps are.
How deep Shadowharbor’s infiltration goes.
Which leaves me with only one option.
Zaria stays hidden.
My secret and my responsibility.
Not because I give a shit about her and not because I think she’s innocent.
But because she's going to give me the answers I want.
And no one fucking dies in my house unless I say so, and I don’t say so.
Not yet. Not her.
11
ZARIA
Tommy's fingers dig into my bicep as he drags me down a hallway. My feet stumble beneath me, leaving smears of dirt and red on polished marble.
