Leena’s gaze swung back to St. Silas, remembering the pistol in his pocket. Her heart thundered. A blinding image flashed through her mind of Rami’s torn body bleeding life onto the cobbled street.
Before she could rethink her actions, she stepped between them.
“Leena,” Rami warned angrily, “get out of the way. St. Silas must answer for what he has done to you.”
“Iwent tohim,” Leena snapped, barely turning to face her brother. “For the medication that savedbothour lives.”
Rami’s eyes narrowed, his grip on the hilt white-knuckled. “It doesn’t matter.”
St. Silas’s voice was a leveled taunt. “The infamous Rami Al-Sayer. I must thank you for almost dying. Otherwise, your sister would not have made her way to me.”
Rami swore at St. Silas, profound and low. The Saint’s expression didn’t change. “Make no mistake, I will run you through, Saint.”
Leena’s senses were jarred by how quickly the pistol appeared in St. Silas’s hand, aimed at her brother’s heart.
“No! Mr. St. Silas—” She whipped her head around to face her brother furiously. “Rami! Do not be a fool. Go home—”
“No,” Rami grated out, eyes blazing with hatred.
“If you do not leave now, it will bemewho is punished,” Leena hissed through her teeth, searching for anything to make Rami understand andgo.She saw hesitation flicker across her brother’s face, then he let loose another low curse. His eyes darted between Leena and St. Silas in suspicious hostility.
Finally, Rami took a step back, sword still in hand but not held at the ready. “I’ll be expecting you the day after tomorrow, Leena.”He finally sheathed his sword and Leena let out a long breath. “Or I’ll come back for you myself and damn the consequences.”
“Fine. Just go,” she urged again.
St. Silas didn’t lower his gun until her brother was no longer visible among the crowd. Leena stood alone with him in the alleyway, breathing as if she’d finished a race.
Still, St. Silas’s gaze didn’t waver from her brother’s now departed back, a cold promise in his eyes. “If he attempts to break our contract again, mark my words, Miss Al-Sayer—brother or not, you will be left as the last of your line.”
Leena, who felt more helpless than ever—trapped within St. Silas’s palms, forced to act as his ghost-seer when all she wanted to do was to get rid of this bloody curse—bit her tongue to keep silent. She tasted blood from how forcefully she wanted to scream at him.
St. Silas didn’t wait for her response. He slid his gun back into the pocket of his coat, hand already reaching for his timepiece…and in that moment, Leena saw the gun gleam, its gray edges reflecting bluntly in the flickering lights.
Without thinking—without even daring tobreathe—she lurched toward him in one swift motion and pulled the gun out of his pocket, forcing it into his abdomen.
Neither moved.
Leena’s harsh breathing sounded wild in her ears.
She felt St. Silas’s muscles stiffen beneath her touch even as his face remained impassive.
“Have Inowfound your weakness?” Leena’s hand spasmed over the cool metal, but her voice still held the echoes of anger that she had carried since touching the ledger.
His laugh was quiet. “I’m afraid not, but a good try.” Then his voice dropped to a whisper, as if meant for the two of them alone. “Will you shoot me?”
He continued to stare down at her, his pupils dilating.
“Mark my words, I can and I will.” Leena sounded far more steady than her racing heart, a part of her aghast that his reactionwas so staid. Her finger twitched on the trigger.Could she do it?She’d never held a gun nor threatened anyone in her entire life. Could she live with the consequences of such violent action? “If I shoot you, think of how many confessors I can save from so much pain and misery.”
“No doubt hundreds.Countless.” His reply was quick and sure, his gaze not leaving hers.
“As long as you live, you will use me as an object to inflict misery. I will be weaponized.”
“You speak facts, madam.”
Leena’s mouth twisted. Every reason she listed was an unshakable truth, and yet the actions she would have to take to rid the world of such a beast would very likely shatter her.
The avid interest grew in St. Silas’s gaze, until it seemed to swallow his eyes whole. He watched the warring expressions play across her face with barely concealed fascination. “You don’t have it in you,” he challenged softly.
