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The way her eyes darken knowingly, like she can smell my desire in the air between us, almost makes me moan aloud. For one second, I’m convinced she’s going to rip away our flimsy layers of clothing and satisfy this exquisite torture we’ve been stoking since she brought me out here.
Just take me, I think deliriously, arching up again in silent invitation. I want this. I want you. Ruin me completely before you finish me off like you promised.
But her face hardens and the spell is broken. She rolls off me without a word, leaving me sprawled and throbbing and inwardly screaming.
“You’ve gotten sloppier, if that’s even possible,” she tells me, raking a hand through her mussed hair and retightening her ponytail. “If that’s the best you’ve got, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able to handle Ariadne, much less Grandmother.”
I force a harsh laugh as I sit up. “I only bring my best stuff when you do, Wolf. You think I was sloppy? You were?—”
I shut up as she glares at me. For a second, I think I’ve pushed too far. But then she motions for me to grab one of the protein bars. I eat in tense silence for a long moment before I grow restless again, casting around for a new target to needle her with.
“So when do we take this show on the road?” I finally ask between bites. “I’m getting antsy just sitting around on my ass all day.”
Another scathing look. “Just cool your heels a little longer. I’m waiting for intel about Grandmother’s new setup to come in. We don’t know where she is. And if you really are sitting around on your ass all day, allow me to suggest you fucking train more. You go in against her like you did just now and we’re both fucked.”
Well, that’s just rude. I pick irritably at the tasteless protein bar. “I’m getting better. You said it yourself.”
“And now you’re worse. You want me to lie, tell you that making gooey eyes at your opponent like you did at me will win you a fight? It won’t.”
“I wasn’t making gooey eyes.”
Lyssa tosses aside the rest of her protein bar with a sigh. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Scar? You really are better than this, normally.”
I chew for a long time on my mouthful of protein. There is something that’s been on my mind, something apart from Lyssa. “I want to see my parents before we go after Grandmother. Before...everything ends, one way or another.”
Shock flits across Lyssa’s face, rapidly flattening into a guarded mask as she gives a sharp shake of her head. “Sorry, can’t do it. Your parents are off-limits until this whole mess is over. End of story.”
Her refusal ignites the ember of rage always so close to the surface these days. I slam the rest of my protein bar down on the table. “Don’t be fucking ridiculous! You want to kill me, but you won’t even allow me the courtesy of saying goodbye to my parents first?”
“Your parents are only alive right now thanks to my people keeping them under protection,” she shoots back, rising to her feet as well. All that glorious, electrifying tension from before has morphed into something darker. Something volatile. “You’re only alive right now because the Syndicate thinks you’re dead. We can’t just rock up to your parents’ house to say hi, Scarlett. It’s too risky.”
“Bullshit,” I snarl. “You could send them away with no problems at all. Tell them you want to speak to my parents. You could do it—you just won’t.”
We stand glaring at each other, bodies tensed for the inevitable explosion as we silently dare the other to make the first move. Lyssa’s the one who finally breaks the tension with a roll of her eyes. “You want to go see your parents that much? Fine. I’ll make arrangements. Long as you promise me you’ll train harder. Deal?”
The sudden acquiescence deflates my rage as quickly as it came. I blink rapidly, derailed by the abrupt shift from hostility to accommodation. “You’re...serious?”
“Dead serious,” she confirms flatly. Her eyes are hard. “Because you’re right. You deserve a chance to say your goodbyes properly.”
Her head cants ever so slightly, the words hanging heavily between us. I swallow hard at the ominous implication behind them. But I’m too grateful to care. “Thank you, Lyssa. I...I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” she mutters. “Just take your training seriously. I mean it, Scar. I’ll see you.”
With that, she turns and stalks toward the barn doors, and I’m too off-kilter to even beg her to stay a little while longer like I usually do.
CHAPTER 4
Scarlett
Lyssa and I walk quietly down a series of familiar back alleys and streets until I nod toward one particular waist-high chain-link fence surrounding a neat, rectangular lawn. It’s weird seeing home again after being away for so long. A whole lifetime, really. I’m a different person, but the house looks just the same as the last time I was here, the good house on the not-so-great block. Gentrification is trying hard to crowd in; the house up the street that used to always have the police called on them has been gutted and rebuilt as a two-story brick terrace house that looks weirdly out of place. But my parents’ place looks the same, and the twin windows at the back—my bedroom on the left, Adam’s on the right—stare at me as though surprised to see me back after all this time.
And I’d give anything to go back to that mundane existence. To be the girl who never had to learn how to disassemble a Glock with her eyes closed or pick locks with a hairpin in under ten seconds. The one whose biggest worry was cramming for finals, not whether she’d survive her next clash with organized crime.
But I can’t go back. That innocence was torn away from me long ago, the instant I let Grandmother show me that video of my brother’s murder. After that...well, there’s no un-ringing that bell, is there?
“You sure about this?” Lyssa murmurs.
I nod. She motions for me to wait where I am, and I watch her slip away to dismiss the Syndicate guards watching over my parents’ house.
