When I pull back, his eyes have gone dark. Hungry. The same look he gave me in the catacombs before he laid me on his armor and took me apart with his hands and mouth.
“Later,” I whisper against his lips. “When this is over.”
“Later.” The word is a growl. A vow.
“The founding contract.” His gaze sharpens, the enforcer pushing through the lover. “It’s here. Somewhere. Madame Viscera said?—”
“At the bottom.” I look toward the darkness below us. “Buried beneath everything.”
“Then we go down.”
He’s already pushing himself to his feet, using me as support, his jaw set against the pain. Two centuries of enforcing the Ledger Master’s will have made him something more than human. Something that keeps going when flesh should fail.
We go deeper.
∗ ∗ ∗
