AI The third deadbolt stuck the way it always did when the humidity crept up from the curry house downstairs. Rory had to brace her hip against the doorframe and wrench the brass knob left with enough force to make her knuckle pop. Ptolemy, Eva’s tabby, wound between her ankles and meowed a protest at the delay.
“Give me a second,” she muttered.
The door swung inward. The smell of Brick Lane hit her first — turmeric and rain-slicked pavement and the faint diesel cough of a night bus rounding the corner. Then she registered the man standing on the landing, one hand resting on the ivory handle of a cane she hadn’t seen in six months, and every word she might have said evaporated.
Lucien Moreau looked precisely as he always did: immaculate. His charcoal suit had been cut to fit shoulders that had no business being that broad on a man who spent his days trading secrets. Raindrops beaded on the slicked-back platinum of his hair but didn’t seem to dare touch his collar. The amber eye regarded her with something almost like relief; the black one gave away nothing at all.
Rory’s hand tightened on the edge of the door.
“You’re800
The third deadbolt stuck the way it always did when the humidity crept up from the curry house downstairs. Rory had to brace her hip against the doorframe and wrench the brass knob left with enough force to make her knuckle pop. Ptolemy, Eva’s tabby, wound between her ankles and meowed a protest at the delay.
“Give me a second,” she muttered.
The door swung inward. The smell of Brick Lane hit her first — turmeric and rain-slicked pavement and the faint diesel cough of a night bus rounding the corner. Then she registered the man standing on the landing, one hand resting on the ivory handle of a cane she hadn’t seen in six months, and every word she might have said evaporated.
Lucien Moreau looked precisely as he always did: immaculate. His charcoal suit had been cut to fit shoulders that had no business being that broad on a man who spent his days trading secrets. Raindrops beaded on the slicked-back platinum of his hair but didn’t seem to dare touch his collar. The amber eye regarded her with something almost like relief; the black one gave away nothing at all.
Rory’s hand tightened on the edge of the door.
“You have no right to be here.” It came out less like an accusation and more like a reflex, something she’d rehearsed in the long hours after he’d vanished from her life without explanation.
Lucien’s gaze flicked past her into the chaos of Eva’s flat — the stacks of scrolls teetering on the radiator, the open grimoire on the floor with a Post-it note peeling off the corner, the takeaway container she’d meant to bin. “May I come in?”
“No.”
“Aurora.”
Her name in that mouth. The slight roll of the r, the softening of the vowels. He’d always pronounced it as if it were something fragile, something worth handling with care, which was a lie because Lucien Moreau handled nothing with care except his own secrets. She12
The third deadbolt stuck the way it always did when the humidity crept up from the curry house downstairs. Rory had to brace her hip against the doorframe and wrench the brass knob left with enough force to make her knuckle pop. Ptolemy, Eva’s tabby, wound between her ankles and meowed a protest at the delay.
“Give me a second,” she muttered.
The door swung inward. The smell of Brick Lane hit her first — turmeric and rain-slicked pavement and the faint diesel cough of a night bus rounding the corner. Then she registered the man standing on the landing, one hand resting on the ivory handle of a cane she hadn’t seen in six months, and every word she might have said evaporated.
Lucien Moreau looked precisely as he always did: immaculate. His charcoal suit had been cut to fit shoulders that had no business being that broad on a man who spent his days trading secrets. Raindrops beaded on the slicked-back platinum of his hair but didn’t seem to dare touch his collar. The amber eye regarded her with something almost like relief; the black one gave away nothing at all.
Rory’s hand tightened on the edge of the door. “You have no right to be here.” It came out less like an accusation and more like a reflex, something she’d rehearsed in the long hours after he’d vanished from her life without explanation.
Lucien’s gaze flicked past her into the chaos of Eva’s flat—the stacks of scrolls teetering on the radiator, the open grimoire on the floor with a Post-it note peeling off the corner, the takeaway container she’d meant to bin. “May I come in?”
“No.”
“Aurora.”
Her name in that mouth. The slight roll of the r, the softening of the vowels. He’d always pronounced it as if it were something fragile, something worth handling with care, which was a lie because Lucien Moreau handled nothing with care except his own secrets. She crossed her arms over her chest and realized too late she was wearing Eva’s oversized Oxford jumper with the hole in the cuff and her own threadbare leggings. Not that it mattered. Not that she cared what she looked like in front of him .
“It’s after eleven,” she said. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying.”
“I’m not selling anything.” He shifted his weight, and the cane tapped once against the threshold. The blade concealed inside it made a faint metallic whisper she’d learned to recognize. “I need to speak with you. It’s important.”
“Important.” She let the word sit there, sharp-edged and unaccommodating. “Like the last time we spoke was important? Oh, wait—there wasn’t a last time. You just stopped.”
A flicker of something crossed his face. If she hadn’t spent weeks memorizing the micro-expressions that lived at the corners of his mismatched eyes, she would have missed it. Guilt, maybe. Or regret. Both, if she was being generous, and she wasn’t.
“That was necessary,” he said.
“Right. Of course it was.” She started to close the door.
His hand came up—gloveless, she noticed, the long fingers bare and cold-looking—and caught the edge of the wood before it could shut. He didn’t push. He just held it, a gentle resistance that30
His hand came up—gloveless, she noticed, the long fingers bare and cold-looking—and caught the edge of the wood before it could shut. He didn’t push. He just held it, a gentle resistance that stopped her cold. “Aurora, please. Five minutes. If you want me to leave after that, I will.”
She stared at those fingers. She remembered what they felt like tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her hip,055
His hand came up—gloveless, she noticed, the long fingers bare and cold-looking—and caught the edge of the wood before it could shut. He didn’t push. He just held it, a gentle resistance that stopped her cold. “Aurora, please. Five minutes. If you want me to leave after that, I will.”
She stared at those fingers. She remembered what they felt like tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her hip, the small crescent scar on her left wrist where Evan’s ring had cut her before she’d finally found the nerve to run. Lucien had kissed that scar once and told her it was a map back to07
His hand came up—gloveless, she noticed, the long fingers bare and cold-looking—and caught the edge of the wood before it could shut. He didn’t push. He just held it, a gentle resistance that stopped her cold. “Aurora, please. Five minutes. If you want me to leave after that, I will.”
She stared at those fingers. She remembered what they felt like tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her hip, the small crescent scar on her left wrist where Evan’s ring had cut her before she’d finally found the nerve to run. Lucien had kissed that scar once and told her it was a map back to herself. Then he’d disappeared for six months and let the map gather dust.
Ptolemy took advantage of the standoff, slinking through the gap and twining around Lucien’s trouser leg. The traitor purred.
“Fine.” The word scraped out of her throat. “Five minutes.”
Rory stepped back and let the door swing open. Lucien entered the flat as he entered every room—like he was cataloguing exits, angles, weapons. The cane tapped across the floorboards, and he stopped beside the heap of scrolls as if he wasn’t sure where to stand. She closed the door behind him, sliding each deadbolt home with a series of satisfying clunks that16
Rory stepped back and let the door swing open. Lucien entered the flat as he entered every room—like he was cataloguing exits, angles, weapons. The cane tapped across the floorboards, and he stopped beside the heap of scrolls as if he wasn’t sure where to stand. She closed the door behind him, sliding each deadbolt home with a series of satisfying clunks that sealed them inside together.
“Eva isn’t here,” she said,24
Rory stepped back and let the door swing open. Lucien entered the flat as he entered every room—like he was cataloguing exits, angles, weapons. The cane tapped across the floorboards, and he stopped beside the heap of scrolls as if he wasn’t sure where to stand. She closed the door behind him, sliding each deadbolt home with a series of satisfying clunks that sealed them inside together.
“Eva isn’t here,” she said, mostly to puncture the silence .
“I know . She’s52
Rory stepped back and let the door swing open. Lucien entered the flat as he entered every room—like he was cataloguing exits, angles, weapons. The cane tapped across the floorboards, and he stopped beside the heap of scrolls as if he wasn’t sure where to stand. She closed the door behind him, sliding each deadbolt home with a series of satisfying clunks that sealed them inside together.
“Eva isn’t here,” she said, mostly to puncture the silence .
“I know . She’s in the Hebrides. Research on selkie migration patterns.” He16
Rory stepped back and let the door swing open. Lucien entered the flat as he entered every room—like he was cataloguing exits, angles, weapons. The cane tapped across the floorboards, and he stopped beside the heap of scrolls as if he wasn’t sure where to stand. She closed the door behind him, sliding each deadbolt home with a series of satisfying clunks that sealed them inside together.
“Eva isn’t here,” she said, mostly to puncture the silence .
“I know . She’s in the Hebrides. Research on selkie migration patterns.” He said it without pride, just the flat delivery of a man who could find anyone, anywhere.
“Of course you know .”
Rory moved to the kitchenette, the one corner of the flat where she could pretend to be doing something. She filled the kettle and set it on the hob with more force than necessary. The flame coughed to life. She didn’t offer him tea. She didn’t offer him anything.
“How did you find me?” she asked, her back still to him .
“I’ve always known where you were, Rory.”
The kettle trembled under her hand. She12
Rory moved to the kitchenette, the one corner of the flat where she could pretend to be doing something. She filled the kettle and set it on the hob with more force than necessary. The flame coughed to life. She didn’t offer him tea. She didn’t offer him anything.
“How did you find me?” she asked, her back still to him .
“I’ve always known where you were, Rory.”
The kettle trembled under her hand. She hated that. Hated that he’d used her nickname, the easy one, the one only her friends got to use, and hated that it still landed somewhere soft inside her chest. “And you couldn’t be bothered to06
Rory moved to the kitchenette, the one corner of the flat where she could pretend to be doing something. She filled the kettle and set it on the hob with more force than necessary. The flame coughed to life. She didn’t offer him tea. She didn’t offer him anything.
“How did you find me?” she asked, her back still to him .
“I’ve always known where you were, Rory.”
The kettle trembled under her hand. She hated that. Hated that he’d used her nickname, the easy one, the one only her friends got to use, and hated that it still landed somewhere soft inside her chest. “And you couldn’t be bothered to show up until now?”
“I couldn’t. Not couldn’t be bothered.”
She turned. He hadn’t moved from the scroll pile, but his07
Rory moved to the kitchenette, the one corner of the flat where she could pretend to be doing something. She filled the kettle and set it on the hob with more force than necessary. The flame coughed to life. She didn’t offer him tea. She didn’t offer him anything.
“How did you find me?” she asked, her back still to him .
“I’ve always known where you were, Rory.”
The kettle trembled under her hand. She hated that. Hated that he’d used her nickname, the easy one, the one only her friends got to use, and hated that it still landed somewhere soft inside her chest. “And you couldn’t be bothered to show up until now?”
“I couldn’t. Not couldn’t be bothered.”
She turned. He hadn’t moved from the scroll pile, but his grip on the cane had shifted. The knuckles were white. That06
Rory moved to the kitchenette, the one corner of the flat where she could pretend to be doing something. She filled the kettle and set it on the hob with more force than necessary. The flame coughed to life. She didn’t offer him tea. She didn’t offer him anything.
“How did you find me?” she asked, her back still to him .
“I’ve always known where you were, Rory.”
The kettle trembled under her hand. She hated that. Hated that he’d used her nickname, the easy one, the one only her friends got to use, and hated that it still landed somewhere soft inside her chest. “And you couldn’t be bothered to show up until now?”
“I couldn’t. Not couldn’t be bothered.”
She turned. He hadn’t moved from the scroll pile, but his grip on the cane had shifted. The knuckles were white. That tiny tell arrested her more than anything else he might have said. Lucien did not lose his composure. He certainly didn’t14
“I couldn’t. Not couldn’t be bothered.”
She turned. He hadn’t moved from the scroll pile, but his grip on the cane had shifted. The knuckles were white. That tiny tell arrested her more than anything else he might have said. Lucien did not lose his composure. He certainly didn’t broadcast his tension through a two-thousand-pound walking stick.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“My father’s people have taken an interest in you.”
The kettle began its low, rising cry. She16
She turned. He hadn’t moved from the scroll pile, but his grip on the cane had shifted. The knuckles were white. That tiny tell arrested her more than anything else he might have said. Lucien did not lose his composure. He certainly didn’t broadcast his tension through a two-thousand-pound walking stick.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“My father’s people have taken an interest in you.”
The kettle began its low, rising cry. She ignored it. His father’s people meant Avaros. Meant the demon realm that Lucien half-belonged to and spent most of his life pretending he could keep at arm’s length. Meant14
She turned. He hadn’t moved from the scroll pile, but his grip on the cane had shifted. The knuckles were white. That tiny tell arrested her more than anything else he might have said. Lucien did not lose his composure. He certainly didn’t broadcast his tension through a two-thousand-pound walking stick.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“My father’s people have taken an interest in you.”
The kettle began its low, rising cry. She ignored it. His father’s people meant Avaros. Meant the demon realm that Lucien half-belonged to and spent most of his life pretending he could keep at arm’s length. Meant19
She turned. He hadn’t moved from the scroll pile, but his grip on the cane had shifted. The knuckles were white. That tiny tell arrested her more than anything else he might have said. Lucien did not lose his composure. He certainly didn’t broadcast his tension through a two-thousand-pound walking stick.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“My father’s people have taken an interest in you.”
The kettle began its low, rising cry. She ignored it. His father’s people meant Avaros. Meant the demon realm that Lucien half-belonged to and spent most of his life pretending he could keep at arm’s length. Meant something bad.
“Why?” She forced the word out around the sudden tightness in her throat.
“Because I was06
She turned. He hadn’t moved from the scroll pile, but his grip on the cane had shifted. The knuckles were white. That tiny tell arrested her more than anything else he might have said. Lucien did not lose his composure. He certainly didn’t broadcast his tension through a two-thousand-pound walking stick.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“My father’s people have taken an interest in you.”
The kettle began its low, rising cry. She ignored it. His father’s people meant Avaros. Meant the demon realm that Lucien half-belonged to and spent most of his life pretending he could keep at arm’s length. Meant something bad.
“Why?” She forced the word out around the sudden tightness in her throat.
“Because I was careless.” He looked down at the cane, at his own hand strangling the ivory, and deliberately relaxed his grip. “When I ended things—when I pulled away—I didn’t do it cleanly enough. I left a thread. They found it.”
Rory leaned back against the counter. The edge of the worktop bit into her hip. “You ended things. You pulled away. You mean when you ghosted me for half a year.”
“Yes.” No deflection. No silver-tongued sidestep. Just the word, raw and unvarnished.
“And16
Rory leaned back against the counter. The edge of the worktop bit into her hip. “You ended things. You pulled away. You mean when you ghosted me for half a year.”
“Yes.” No deflection. No silver-tongued sidestep. Just the word, raw and unvarnished.
“And the reason you14
Rory leaned back against the counter. The edge of the worktop bit into her hip. “You ended things. You pulled away. You mean when you ghosted me for half a year.”
“Yes.” No deflection. No silver-tongued sidestep. Just the word, raw and unvarnished.
“And the reason you didn’t explain any of this was what, exactly?”
He exhaled through his nose. A human gesture, she’d once thought. Now it struck her as05
Rory leaned back against the counter. The edge of the worktop bit into her hip. “You ended things. You pulled away. You mean when you ghosted me for half a year.”
“Yes.” No deflection. No silver-tongued sidestep. Just the word, raw and unvarnished.
“And the reason you didn’t explain any of this was what, exactly?”
He exhaled through his nose. A human gesture, she’d once thought. Now it struck her as practiced. “Because if I told you the truth, you would have insisted on17
Rory leaned back against the counter. The edge of the worktop bit into her hip. “You ended things. You pulled away. You mean when you ghosted me for half a year.”
“Yes.” No deflection. No silver-tongued sidestep. Just the word, raw and unvarnished.
“And the reason you didn’t explain any of this was what, exactly?”
He exhaled through his nose. A human gesture, she’d once thought. Now it struck her as practiced. “Because if I told you the truth, you would have insisted on staying.”
“Damn right I would have.”
“That’s precisely the problem.” He moved12
He exhaled through his nose. A human gesture, she’d once thought. Now it struck her as practiced. “Because if I told you the truth, you would have insisted on staying.”
“Damn right I would have.”
“That’s precisely the problem.” He moved toward her—one step, two—and the space between them shrank to something breathable in the wrong way. She could smell his cologne now, something expensive and green, and beneath it the faint ozone scent that clung to him after he’d been using his abilities. “Aurora, you had just escaped a man who made your life a cage. I was not going to make you a target in someone else’s war.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make for me.”
“No. It wasn’t.” He stopped a foot away, close enough that she could see the rain still caught in his eyelashes, the way the blackness of his demon eye had deepened around the pupil. “But I made it anyway, because I am a coward when it comes to you. I always have been.”
The confession landed between them like a stone dropped into still water. Rory didn’t move. The kettle screamed behind her, high and insistent, and she didn’t move.
“You could have16
The confession landed between them like a stone dropped into still water. Rory didn’t move. The kettle screamed behind her, high and insistent, and she didn’t move.
“You could have told me this months ago. A letter. A message. A bloody carrier pigeon.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she hated herself for it.
“You would have12
The confession landed between them like a stone dropped into still water. Rory didn’t move. The kettle screamed behind her, high and insistent, and she didn’t move.
“You could have told me this months ago. A letter. A message. A bloody carrier pigeon.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she hated herself for it.
“You would have burned a letter. You would have deleted a message. And you would have used a carrier pigeon as target practice.” A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I know you, Rory. You were furious, and you had every right to be.16
The confession landed between them like a stone dropped into still water. Rory didn’t move. The kettle screamed behind her, high and insistent, and she didn’t move.
“You could have told me this months ago. A letter. A message. A bloody carrier pigeon.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she hated herself for it.
“You would have burned a letter. You would have deleted a message. And you would have used a carrier pigeon as target practice.” A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I know you, Rory. You were furious, and you had every right to be. I chose to12
The confession landed between them like a stone dropped into still water. Rory didn’t move. The kettle screamed behind her, high and insistent, and she didn’t move.
“You could have told me this months ago. A letter. A message. A bloody carrier pigeon.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she hated herself for it.
“You would have burned a letter. You would have deleted a message. And you would have used a carrier pigeon as target practice.” A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I know you, Rory. You were furious, and you had every right to be. I chose to let you stay furious because fury was safer than800
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but04
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but that wasn’t what17
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but that wasn’t what kept her rooted. It was the part of his confession that he hadn’t spoken aloud: the I am a coward when it comes to you. Lucien Moreau, who brokered16
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but she didn’t02
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but the noise felt distant, a siren in a different neighborhood. What held her was the08
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but she let it scream. “You’re12
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but she let it. “You think13
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but she didn’t17
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but16
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but all she could hear was the echo of his words. I am a coward when it comes to you. Lucien Moreau, the fixer, the information broker, the man who walked through London’s supernatural underworld like11
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but all she could hear was the echo of18
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but all she could hear was the part08
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but all she heard were the words he’d16
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now, but she12
She looked16
She looked away. The kettle was shrieking now,15
She looked away from him,16
She10
She looked away from him, and13
She looked away from him, and Ptolemy leaped onto the counter, tail high, and01
She looked away from him and11
She looked13
She turned away and reached blindly for the hob.06
She stepped back, out of his orbit, and turned off the hob with a snap of her wrist. The kettle sighed into silence . Ptolemy was on the counter now, sniffing the milk jug. She12
She stepped back, out of his orbit, and turned off the hob with a snap of her wrist. The kettle fell silent. Ptolemy was on the counter now, sniffing at the milk jug. She didn’t scold him. She couldn’t seem to16
She stepped back, out of his orbit, and turned off the hob. The kettle fell silent. Ptolemy was on the counter now, sniffing the milk jug, and she didn’t stop him. She16
She stepped back, out of his orbit, and turned off the hob. The kettle’s scream died. Ptolemy was on the counter, sniffing the milk jug. She let him. She needed17
She stepped back, out of his orbit, and turned off the hob. The silence that followed was deafening . Ptolemy purred from his perch on the milk crate by the fridge. Rory pressed her palms flat against the countertop and tried to remember how to breathe evenly.
“You said they’ve taken an interest,” she finally managed. “What does that mean? In plain English, not fixer-speak.”
Lucien13
She stepped back, out of his reach, and turned the hob off. The silence that followed was almost worse. She pressed her palms flat against the counter and16
She stepped back and turned off the hob. The silence that followed was13
She stepped back and turned off the hob. The silence that followed was thick as dust. She pressed her palms to the counter, the cheap Formica sticky with old soy sauce, and tried to breathe around the anger still lodged under her ribs.
“You said they’ve taken an interest,” she said780
She stepped back and turned off the hob. The kettle’s wail died into a wet, metallic shudder. She06
She stepped back and turned off the hob. The kettle’s wail died into a wet, metallic shudder. She kept her palms flat on the counter, the cheap laminate warm under her fingers, and13
She stepped back and turned off the hob. The kettle’s wail died. She kept her palms flat on the counter, and13
She stepped back and turned off the hob. The silence that followed was13
She stepped back and turned off the hob. The kettle’s wail cut out. She kept her back to him,10
She turned and12
She reached over and killed the flame. The kettle’s cry died into a wet, metallic shudder. She13
She reached over and killed the flame. The kettle’s cry died. She kept her back to him. “You said they’ve taken an interest. What does that mean? In plain English, not fixer-speak.”
“It means there is a bounty.” His voice had gone very quiet. “On anyone I have been close to. You are at the top of a very short list.”
Rory16
She killed the flame under the kettle. The screech died into a shuddering hiss. She16
She killed the flame. The kettle’s scream faded into a shuddering hiss. She kept her back to him,16
She killed the flame. The kettle went silent. She kept her back to him, hands flat on the counter. “You said they’ve taken an interest. What does that mean?”
“It means there’s14
She killed the flame, and the kettle’s cry died. She15
She turned off the flame. The kettle went silent. She14
She turned off the hob. The kettle went quiet. She13
She14
She turned off the hob. The kettle went quiet. She faced him again,13
She turned off the hob. The kettle’s scream died. She faced him again,15
She turned off the hob. The kettle went quiet. She faced him again, forcing herself to16
She turned off the hob. The kettle went quiet. She faced him again. “You said they’ve taken an interest. What does that mean?”
“It means05
She turned off the hob. The kettle went quiet. She faced him again. “You said they’ve taken an interest. What does that mean?”
“It means there is a contract out on anyone connected to me.” He10
She turned off the hob. The kettle went quiet. She faced him. “You said they’ve taken an interest. What does that mean? In plain English.”
“It means there is a bounty,” he said16
She turned off the hob. The kettle went quiet. She faced him,16
She turned off the hob. The kettle was silent. She faced him. “You said they’ve taken an interest. What does that mean?”
“It means there is14
She turned off the hob. The kettle was silent. She faced him. “You said they’ve taken an interest. What does that mean?”
“It means that my father’s enemies have placed a bounty on16
She turned off the hob. The kettle was quiet. She faced him. “You said they’ve taken an interest. What does that mean?”
“It means my father’s enemies have placed a bounty on anyone I’ve ever been17
She turned off the hob. The kettle was silent. She faced him, crossing her arms again. “You said they’ve taken an interest. What does that mean?”
“It means13
She turned off the hob. The kettle went silent. She faced him. “What does that mean, taken an interest?”
“It means there is a price on your head.” He said it flatly, the same tone he’d use to quote an exchange rate. “My father has enemies in Avaros. They’ve learned about you. They intend to use you to get to me.”
Rory’s blood went cold . She’d survived an abusive ex, fled her hometown, rebuilt her life piece by piece in a city that didn’t care if she existed, and now some supernatural faction she’d never heard of wanted her as leverage. Because of him.
“And you came here,” she said16
Rory’s blood went cold . She’d survived an abusive ex, fled her hometown, rebuilt her life piece by piece in a city that didn’t care if she existed, and now some supernatural faction she’d never heard of wanted her as leverage. Because of him.
“And you came here,” she said slowly , “why? To warn me? To whisk me away to some safehouse? To be the hero you couldn’t be bothered to be six months ago?”
“I came because I made a mistake.” He13
Rory’s blood went cold . She’d survived an abusive ex, fled her hometown, rebuilt her life piece by piece in a city that didn’t care if she existed, and now some supernatural faction she’d never heard of wanted her as leverage. Because of him.
“And you came here,” she said slowly , “why? To warn me? To whisk me away to some safehouse? To be the hero you couldn’t be bothered to be six months ago?”
“I came because I made a mistake.” He stepped closer again,17
Rory’s blood went cold . She’d survived an abusive ex, fled her hometown, rebuilt her life piece by piece in a city that didn’t care if she existed, and now some supernatural faction she’d never heard of wanted her as leverage. Because of him.
“And you came here,” she said slowly , “why? To warn me? To whisk me away to some safehouse? To be the hero you couldn’t be bothered to be six months ago?”
“I came because I was wrong.” He stepped closer, and16
Rory’s blood went cold . She’d survived an abusive ex, fled her hometown, rebuilt her life piece by piece in a city that didn’t care if she existed, and now some supernatural faction she’d never heard of wanted her as leverage. Because of him.
“And you came here,” she said slowly , “why? To warn me? To whisk me away to some safehouse? To be the hero you couldn’t be bothered to be six months ago?”
“I came because I was wrong. Cutting you off didn’t protect you. It only made you24
Rory’s blood went cold . She’d survived Evan, fled Cardiff, rebuilt her life in this city that didn’t care if she existed, and now some distant demon faction wanted her as a pawn . Because of him.
“And12
Rory’s blood went cold . She’03
Rory’s blood went cold . She had survived Evan, fled Cardiff, and rebuilt her life piecemeal in a city that didn’t care if she lived or died, and now some distant demon faction wanted her head on a platter. Because of him.
“And you came here03
She16
She16
Rory’s blood went cold . She had survived Evan, fled her hometown, rebuilt herself07
Rory’s blood went cold . She’17