His laughter fades, and for a brief, heartbreaking moment, a flicker of flame brightens his eyes, a moment ofwant, before he shuts it down.
He opens his fingers and carefully, slowly lowers my arm to my side so he can slide his hand away from mine again.
But…why?
I search his face. I wish I knew the answer. I wish I could read it in the shape of his lips, the light in his eyes, and the angles of his body, but he is, once again, completely closed off to me.
He takes a deep, slow breath. “Would you like to see everyone? They’re waiting in the living room, but I’ve made sure they know not to crowd you.”
I try to refocus. “That would be nice. And thank you.”
The staircase is wide enough for both of us to walk side by side with space between us.
Striker enters a security code into the door at the bottom of the steps, and I find myself in an entry room, complete with a narrow wooden table with a vase of flowers on it. They don’t look like any kind of flower I’ve seen before.
“A gift from Lucinda,” Striker says, waiting for me at the next door, which remains closed. “She’s going through a creative stage.”
“They’re lovely.”
“She’ll be glad to hear it.”
I pause at the closed door, expanding my senses to discover that the room beyond it is empty.
Striker seems to read my confusion as he opens the door, and we enter a lamp-lit area with astonishing views of the ocean.
“The entertainment area is down the next flight of stairs,” he says, gesturing to the staircase at the far right. “This is a private part of the house.”
I give him a curious look. “Do all your visitors traipse through here when they arrive?”
He shakes his head with a smile. “The helipad is for you.”
Not sure what to make of that, I glide across the wooden floor.
It has a different texture here and is covered by a soft rug farther along, while multiple couches rest around the room with cushions scattered across them, inviting me to sink into them.
There’s another door off to the left, slightly ajar, and I catch a glimpse of a bedroom behind it.
It’s quiet here. Really quiet.
I exhale carefully and allow my senses to fully expand. I don’t sense anyone else except us. No thoughts, no lurking motivations. It’s even more still and calmer than the mountain,andit’s filled with Striker’s scent.
I turn to him, my eyes wide with astonishment. “How is it so peaceful here?”
“I had a little help with that.” He gives me a mysterious smile. “Let’s go downstairs.”
As soon as he opens the door at the bottom of the next flight of stairs, the outside world rushes in, but I’m prepared for it.
Striker remains behind me as I step into another softly lit area, the quiet chatter ceasing when I appear.
Off to the right, the assassins have gathered at a large table filled with food. They’re dressed to the nines, the men in suits and the women in evening gowns. A little girl, who can only be Hunter and Slade’s daughter, sits in a high chair, playing with cubes of steamed vegetables. She has potato smooshed in her hair.
Cain holds a sleeping baby girl while Archer smiles beside Hunter.
Slade gives me a silent nod, his power simmering as close to the surface as it does when he’s about to go into battle. It’s who he is.
To the left, the Academy monsters have gathered on the couches, also sparkling in suits and dresses.
Ashley wears a comfortable-looking mask around her eyes, her hand clasped in Lachlan’s, while Joseph’s arm encircles Lucinda’s shoulders.
