Two guards catch my arms.
Not fast enough to stop me from leaning forward, eyes burning into Seytan’s face.
“You don’t touch her,” I snarl.
Seytan smiles like she’s being flirted with. “She is my daughter.”
Valentine’s voice cuts in. “She is not returning to this facility.”
Seytan’s smile falters.
“What?” she says, too sharp.
Valentine doesn’t look at her. “That is not the plan.”
Seytan’s composure cracks for a heartbeat. “You don’t get to decide?—”
Valentine turns his head. “I do.”
The silence that follows is thick.
Seytan’s hands clench at her sides. Her eyes glint with something dark.
Valentine speaks to us again, as if she isn’t there. “Your job is identification and retrieval. Locate and confirm.”
“Confirm what?” Bones asks.
Valentine’s gaze holds steady. “Confirm who has her. Confirm what they want. Confirm whether she is compromised.”
The word compromised lands wrong. Cold. Clinical. Not ‘hurt’ or ‘safe’.Compromised.
I pull against the guards until their grips bite into muscle.
“If she’s hurt—” I start.
Valentine’s eyes don’t move. “Then we respond.”
“How?” Ghost whispers.
Valentine’s expression is unreadable. “With force.”
Honey’s smile returns, bright and savage. “Now you’re speaking my language.”
Valentine’s gaze flicks to Honey. “Don’t confuse permission with friendship.”
Honey’s grin widens. “Don’t confuse yourself with God.”
Valentine holds his gaze a beat too long. Then, very quietly, he says, “I don’t.”
And in that moment, I believe him.
Because gods take credit.
Valentine takes orders.
That is somehow worse.
The implant is donein a side room.
