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As they’re talking, Maeve slowly walks to the edge, now even with Walter on the right. Lex follows, sliding along, until he’s facing Hank. No one sees them move, both using the shadows and their arrogance to their advantage. Killian keeps me behind him, wide open, not bothering to cower.

“We should take cover,” I whisper, and he shakes his head, smirking.

“No. We shouldn’t.”

“Who are you?” Walter asks, leering at my sister.

She smirks. “You’ll find out.”

Hank glares at Lex, gesturing with his gun. “Wait. You’re important, aren’t you?”

My brother-in-law grins. “Some say so.”

“He likes to think he is,” Killian quips.

Maeve fires first, her gun’s recoil kicking it back in her grasp. Lex and Killian both shoot, but Ennis gets off a few shots. The Reaper throws me on the ground as something sharp rips through my shoulder.

Two bodies drop after a few more rounds. Two down.

Maeve ducks behind the short pillar, calling out to me, “You good?”

“Perfect,” I pant. Killian fires above me, in rapid succession as Ennis runs toward the far building. This isn’t great for police interference, and I’m not on my laptop to hinder their presence.

If we don’t move, they’ll be here. That will screw everything up.

Touching my shoulder, I pull back twin bloody fingers. Fuck. I’ve been shot.

“I’ve got him,” Lex yells, jogging after the last hitman. I don’t know how I feel about that, but my body protests as I try to rise.

Killian pushes me down, and Maeve drops beside me. “Easy, kid.”

“We should do it here,” she mumbles, icy fingers digging for her phone. “The smear of blood and the gunshots will be enough evidence for verification. If more come, they’ll see you dead.”

There goes the bounty. I glance down at the smear of red on the pavement, my shoulder damp with blood. My entire arm throbs, and my shoulder is on fire. Rolling back, I look up at the black sky. No stars shine overhead, as if too scared to gift me their beauty.

Opening the amber jar, I cheers my sister and my pseudo brother-in-law.

“‘A thousand times goodnight,’” I quote, and drink the bitter concoction.

Maeve sniffles, grabbing my hand, sending the picture. “You’re so dramatic. You’re going to be fine,” she repeats. “I promise.”

The poison works immediately. My limbs grow heavy, as if weighted down by rocks, and my breathing grows thick and labored. Darkness covers my eyes, and my head falls, chin to the cement.

“Sixty minutes,” Maeve says to Killian. My hearing still works, but nothing moves, even as I demand a twitch. “Not a moment longer.”

Footsteps slap next to my head, someone panting. “Got him. I’ve got a call into my soldiers for a cleanup.”

“Be prepared,” my sister mutters. “I don’t think they’ll be the only ones coming after Briar.”

Killian shifts, patting my good shoulder. “We don’t move until this is over. We’ve got you, kid.”

I know they do—but my only concern is whether Valentina is safe.

34

VALENTINA

Falling to my knees, I scramble to stand. Marco closes the door behind us.