And then?—
There’s the tell-tale sound of the click of a safety.
I rip away from the kiss, spinning, just as Valen lifts the gun again, this time pointed at Jasper.
Jasper pushes me to the side and I rush to the corner of the room as he grabs the pistol mid-aim and wrenches it from Valen’s hand with effortless force. “OCK property,” he says before tucking it in his waistband.
There’s a crunch of bones following a hiss from Valen who is now clutching his wrist before Jasper walks over to me and looks at the three officers of Psi Theta one last time.
“I should break the other hand,”Jasper signs quietly to me.
My gaze burns into all three of them. “Still think I need your protection?”
I look at my brother. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
“We’re done. You’re not my family,” I say.
Jasper threads his fingers through mine as we exit the house, and the door swings shut behind us. The cold wind hits me first, then I notice the snow. Thin flakes drift down in spirals, catching in my hair.
Cold air rushes around me and Jasper hugs me from behind as we walk toward his McLaren. I draw in a shuddering breath. It’s invigorating and terrifying all at once.
As he opens the car door for me, it hits me, the truth settling in my mind like frost in my blood.
I am the Syndicate’s enemy now—my father’s enemy.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
THIRTEEN
DREDYN
Iset up the range before Mara and Jasper went to deliver our present to Milo Black. Just some oil drums lined up in a row, with spray-painted targets posted on top. I wait with my back to a birch trunk, arms folded, trying to keep the heat in.
Mara steps into the clearing, her breath pluming white, her cheeks flushed from the walk. The snow started about an hour ago, but it’s already coating the ground.
She’s got a coat on, zipped halfway. Underneath is a soft, tight thermal top. A pale color that clings to her breasts.
I don’t say a word, just shove off the tree and tilt my chin toward the bench I dragged out here.
She stops in front of it, eyes on the weapon, then on me.
“You said you were taking me to do something romantic.”
“And you believed me?” I smirk, then pick up the pistol and check the chamber. After making sure it’s empty, I reach for her hand that’s wrapped in a thin glove, and close it around the grip of the pistol.
“Two hands, or the recoil takes your pretty fucking thumb with it.”
She takes the gun and faces the targets across the clearing. I come behind her and push my foot against her right one. “Feet apart. Shoulders square.”
She follows directions, then raises the pistol.
“Fire.”
The shot rings out, and the bullet punches the target, a few inches away from the bullseye.
“Again.”
The second shot clips the edge of the target altogether.
