Quinn tilts her head. “What would you have done if I’d told you the truth?”
“Killed. Him,” I bite out through barely separated teeth.
“Point made.”
“What point would that be?” I snap.
“That telling you would’ve been a death sentence, becauseyou, Reeve Rafferty, would’ve gone after him.”
That ticks me off. “I can be just as devious as you, Fox.”
“I know. But Trent is never alone.”
“I would’ve found a way…” I ball my fists, my new rune burning, reminding me that I’m untouchable now. “God, I can’t wait to get back to Boston and hunt the fucker down.”
“God-dess,” Electra corrects me, nodding to my palm. “And before any of us charge in, we should make a plan.”
“Agreed,” Quinn says.
“Me three!” Calanthe exclaims.
“You, Mrs. Hadez, have a wedding to plan and a nursery to decorate.” Tarian slides his arm around the back of Calanthe’s chair and drags her toward him.
“If this is your way of keeping me away from the action?—”
“Infants feel their mother’s stress,” Malika says gently.
Calanthe sighs. “Fine, but I better be consulted and kept in the loop atalltimes.” She throws Electra a look that says she means business.
“You’re still getting married here in two weeks?” Malachi asks.
Tarian nods. “Life must go on, Mal.”
“I realize that. I just—” He spears his fingers through his hair, his gaze darting toward the cemetery.
“No matter how long we wait, she won’t come back,” Tarian murmurs in Atlantean.
Malachi’s lids snap shut, as though trying to trap the grief threatening to break through.
“Plus, I’m intent on walking down the aisle—not rolling,” Calanthe adds, probably to restore some levity.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have twice the reason to celebrate?” Electra muses.
“Meaning?” Malika tilts her head to the side, which scoots her bangs toward one temple.
“With Reeve and Quinn on our side, how fast do you think we can bring down the Holy Hunters?”
“Are they…on our side?” Malachi asks, drumming his fingers against his plane-wrinkled pant leg.
My head rears back. “Of course we are, Malachi.”
He hums, his gaze locking on Quinn in a way that makes my gut clench with worry. “So I learned something fascinating tonight… Do you all want to hear it?”
“Obviously!” Calanthe exclaims. “Spill already.”
“I learned that Sullivan Hayes isn’t dead.”
My eyes cut to Quinn as a deafening, foreboding hush descends over the terrace. “Are you sure?”
