“For now.”
She nodded, processing this confirmation with a composure that made him want to put himself permanently between her and everything the city contained.
“I’m not going to stop working with you.” Her voice carried the quiet certainty she used when establishing facts that would not bend to contradiction. “I’m not going to stop seeing you because some people have decided to pay attention to your life.”
“Delphine—”
“No.” She held up a hand, stopping his objection before it fully formed. “I understand that you want to protect me. I understand that protection is how you show care. But I’m not asking to be protected from this. I’m asking to be told about it. There’s a difference.”
“The people watching you may not stop with observation. If they decide you’re useful as leverage, if they conclude that threatening you would produce results?—”
“Then I need to know that. I need to know what I’m walking into.” She stepped closer, close enough that he could feel warmth radiating from her. “I’ve made my choices, Bastien. I chose to help with your investigation. I chose to spend time with you. I chose this—whatever this is—with my eyes open.”
“There are things about this situation, about me, that you don’t understand.”
“Then tell me.”
The invitation hung between them, offering a door he was not ready to walk through. He could tell her about the mark, about the beacon burning in his forearm that made him a signal for every power in the city. He could explain the murders, the vampire politics, the historical grievances being torn open by violence.
But he could not tell her why he watched the street for threats to her safety with the specific terror of someone who had lostpeople before. He could not describe the mathematics running constantly in his mind—how to position himself between her and danger, how to anticipate threats before they materialized.
Not tonight. Not until he had more answers and fewer open questions that could get her killed.
“There are limits to what I can share.” The words tasted of ash. “Not because I don’t trust you, but because the knowledge itself carries risks I’m not willing to impose.”
“Risks to me, or risks to you?”
“Both.”
She studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face for answers he could not provide. Then she reached out and took his left arm—the marked one—turning it into the light the way she had in his apartment that morning, her thumb hovering just at the edge of the darkened skin.
“It’s warmer than it was this morning,” she said.
“It responds to certain things.”
“To danger?”
“Among other things.”
She held his arm for a moment longer, then released it. “I should take you home,” he said. “The restaurant can wait. Given what happened tonight, I’d feel better knowing you were somewhere safe.”
“And what about you? Where will you go when I’m safely locked in my apartment?”
I’ll watch your building from the street until dawn. I’ll expand my perception to cover every approach, every shadow, every potential threat.
“I have work to do.” He stepped back. “The investigation continues.”
She let her hand fall but did not retreat. “You’re not sleeping enough. You’re not eating enough. You’re running yourself into the ground chasing something that—” She stopped, reorganizingher thoughts. “Let me help. Not just with research. Let me help carry whatever weight you’re carrying.”
“You can’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
He did know. He knew with the certainty of someone who had watched love become liability, who had learned through loss that caring for people made them targets. She could not help carry this weight because the weight was, in large part, her. Her safety. Her proximity. The terrible mathematics of protecting someone who did not know the full scope of what they were protecting against.
“Tonight, let me walk you home.” He moved toward the door, waiting for her to gather her things. “We can discuss what additional help might be appropriate after that.”
Delphine collected her bag with the efficiency of someone accustomed to sudden departures. She did not argue further, perhaps sensing that she had pushed as far as this conversation would allow. But her expression as she joined him at the door told him clearly: this was a pause, not a conclusion.
