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“Yeah, but—” I looked unseeingly at the people passing on the trail fifteen feet away. “Father can’t believe we’re trying to kill him. Hell, I’ve been in Syria. I barely had time to text my family, let alone plot a fucking coup.”

“This goes back longer than a couple of months. The planning for this operation began a year ago.”

“Gods.” I grabbed the bottle; I needed another drink. “I have to tell Gabriel. Warn him about these rumors of a coup.”

“No.” She grabbed my arm. “You can’t.”

I shook her off. “Not your decision.”

“You’re forgetting they have Rafael.”

“Like hell I am. He’s all I think about. I go to sleep thinking about him, and I wake up in a cold sweat, picturing what they’re doing to him.”

“Sorry.” She heaved a breath. “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant you have to play by their rules if you don’t want them to sell him to a brothel. And they don’t want you contacting anyone in your family. Besides, what if Gabriel warns Karoly? That would make him impossible to get to.”

She was right, and I kind of hated her for it.

I curled my lip. “But that’s what you would say, isn’t it, slayer?”

Her chin jerked up like I’d smacked her. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But this operation—it’s been fucked up from the start. I’m not in control. I thought I was. I was in on the planning, but so many things don’t make sense.”

I frowned. She appeared genuinely upset, her brow furrowed, her small white teeth worrying her lower lip.

“And meanwhile, they’ve got my brother. How the fuck did that happen anyway? You said he was in Montreal.”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I just don’t know.”

“So what now?”

She stared out at the river. “Twilight might know more. I’ll give her a call. But not here. Let’s go back to the Bronx.”

25

RIDLEY

The subway uptown was packed with commuters. Zaq and I had to stand. We held onto the same pole, his front to my back, where he’d put himself.

The man was still protecting me, this time from being jostled by the crowd. He couldn’t help himself. He was an alpha male to the core, in the best way: strong, caring, comfortable in his own skin.

And I liked it.

Yeah, I could protect myself, but it made me believe he cared, at least a little. That I belonged to him.

It had been so long since I’d belonged to anyone, or had someone who belonged to me. Not since my mom had died, in fact.

His free arm came around my waist, and I leaned back against him. Soaking him in—his hard body, his special Zaq-scent, his breath against my hair.

We rode like that through Upper Manhattan. We couldn’t talk, of course—not about anything important—but I didn’t want to talk anyway.

I didn’t want to think, either, but I couldn’t help it. My chest was a tight mass of apprehension. Something was very wrong at Slayers, Inc.

The Crow flies crooked.

Zaq angled his head and looked at my face. “You okay?”

I blanked my expression. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“Hmm.” He squeezed my shoulder and fell silent again.