Page 124 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

All eyes shifted to the case on the chair.

The weight of it dragged at the room.

Isra’s shoulders sagged. “You think this will save him?”

Raven nodded. “He woke for the first time in hours when Cassara claimed it. He knew we were one step closer.”

Isra closed his eyes.

Silence stretched.

I watched Marcus watch Isra.

Marcus looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, fully aware that a single breath could send him over.

He found his voice again, low and strained. “I never wanted this for you.”

“This?” Isra asked. “You mean violence? Darkness? Living on the edge of war?”

“Yes,” Marcus said. “I wanted you to keep your world. Your stage. Your sequins and your joy and that ridiculous curtain you insisted on installing in your office.”

Isra’s lips twitched, then hardened again.

“I did not tell you because every time I saw you laugh, I wanted that to be your reality,” Marcus said. “Not this. Not warehouses full of killers and formulas that strip people of their souls.”

“You still sat in those warehouses,” Isra said. “You still brokered their deals.”

“I tried to steer them,” Marcus replied. “I refused some clients outright. I lied to others, told them inventory was gone or shipments were intercepted. I stalled where I could. Pulled strings to move certain items to museums instead of collectors. It was not enough, I know. But I did what I could without dragging you into the crosshairs.”

Isra stared at him.

The conflict in his eyes hurt more than his anger.

He loved this man. That was obvious to anyone who had seen them in the same room for more than a minute. And he felt betrayed. Equally obvious.

The two truths tore through him.

I felt like an intruder watching it.

“I am sorry,” Marcus said. “For lying. For thinking I had the right to decide what you could handle. For believing I was protecting you when I was really protecting myself from losing you.”

Isra swallowed. His hands shook slightly where they hung at his sides.

“If you had told me,” he said quietly, “I would have helped.”

“I know that now,” Marcus whispered.

Raven shot me a look, a subtle tilt of her head that said, Help, before they both drown.

I cleared my throat.

Both men glanced my way, as if startled to remember there were witnesses.

“If it means anything,” I said, “if it were not for Marcus, we would not have retrieved the fragment. At least not tonight. Maybe not at all. His contacts, his reputation, his willingness to stand in that room as if he belonged there are the only reasons I could bid and walk out without a bullet in my skull.”

Marcus looked at me with wary gratitude.

I met his gaze and did not soften my tone. “It does not excuse the secrets. Or the danger. Or the fact you dealt with people who would kill Isra without thinking twice if it earned them a profit.”