Page 328 of Black Reign

“Something that looks like you.”

Her expression changes.

I don't give myself time to think about it.

I lead her home.

12

The cottage still smells like stone.

I don't know how that is possible.

Stone and old wood and lavender drifting through an open kitchen window.

For one strange second, I am nine years old again.

Barefoot.

Dirty knees.

Papa sitting at the kitchen table with a laptop in pieces and flour on one sleeve because he was incapable of doing only one thing at a time.

There should be bread cooling near the stove.

Fresh milk in the old glass bottle he carried home from the farm two roads over.

A radio playing too loudly.

His voice calling me ma puce because I had disappeared into the field again without shoes.

Instead, there is silence.

And Xavier's hand around mine.

I stand inside the doorway without moving.

He doesn't rush me.

Doesn't tell me what he repaired or what he left untouched.

Doesn't point out the security I already know surrounds the property because Xavier Blackwell could probably turn a chicken coop into a fortified command center before breakfast.

I see one man stationed far beyond the stone wall.

Another vehicle partially hidden down the road.

That is all he lets me see.

Inside, there is nothing Blackwell.

No screens.

No men in suits.

No equipment.

Only my childhood home.