“Because he was about to bolt,” Mateo says, expression flickering serious for just a beat. “He was twitchy. Someone told him about Damien. He was packing, and had plans to leave the country. We either grabbed him now or lost him for a while, and I didn’t feel like explaining to you why Marcus disappeared because I waited for you to lace your boots.”
I hate that he’s right. I hate thatI knowhe’s right the second he says it. Because Marcuswouldrun. Men like that don’t sit and wait around to be held accountable. They scuttle. They slime. They rebrand.
My voice comes out low. “Is he hurt?”
Mateo’s grin kicks back up. “Not… permanently.”
“Mateo,” I scold, but there’s no real heat. I wouldn’t have cared if he blacked his eye, or cut off a finger or two. But I don’t tell him that. I let him fester instead. Both of them.
“Reina,please,” he purrs, giving me a pouty look. “Don’t insult me. I didn’t break your toy. I was very gentle. Saint supervised and everything.”
“That isnotreassuring,” I mutter.
Saint’s version of “gentle” is “he can still speak sentences.”
But…
Marcus isours—at the warehouse.Alive. Waiting for me.
I look back down at Rook, and he’s still looking up at me. He can see it on my face. The fury. The relief. The hunger.
The way something settles in me like a final piece of a weapon snapping into place.
“Thisends,” I say. “Today. Both of them.”
He nods once. “Today,” he agrees. “We kill both of them.”
Something in my chest unclenches so forcefully I almost sway. I don’t realize until this second that my hands are still fisted in his shirt. I’m still clutching him in both fists like I’m trying to anchor myself to the floor through him.
I let go. Slowly. Rook doesn’t. His hands stay at my hips. He leans in, close enough that I feel his breath at my jaw. His voice is for me alone when he murmurs, “You lead.”
My throat tightens. “Me.”
“You heard me,” he says.
Mateo lets out a low appreciative whistle. “Oh, that’s going to make the room fun.”
Rook doesn’t look at him. He keeps his eyes on me. “You walk in first. You ask first. You say when it’s over.”
My pulse is everywhere, but I nod. I can barely force the word out past the way my lungs are trying to climb up my throat. “Okay.”
He presses his mouth, just for a second, to the inside of my wrist where my pulse is racing. It’s not a kiss, not really. It’s a mark. Avow.
It shoots heat through me like a live wire.
Mateo groans. “And now… I’m hard in a briefing. Disgusting. Someone stab me.”
“Shut up,” Rook and I say at the same time.
He grins, unbothered. “Love when you two act married. Warms my heart.”
I turn to him. “When do we leave?”
“Now. Saint and Wraith brought him through the service entrance,” Mateo says, practically bouncing now. “Ash is already there setting up audio. Rook’s little murder palace is dressed and ready. Damien’s awake enough to hear it.”
My stomach twists, and settles. My voice is steady when I say, “Take me to him.”
Mateo gives me something I’ve never seen on his face before.
