Page 83 of Godless Saints

“Be careful.”

I almost smiled. “Fuck, that sounded painful coming from you.”

“I’m serious, Cil.”

“So am I. Unfortunately.”

His fingers pressed into the paper.

“Declan’s already spoken to his brother. About you. About me. About Aleksei. The Carricks get annoying fast. Annoying turns violent when they’re embarrassed.”

I cracked my neck.

“They might come for you outside the grounds,” Misha said. “Somewhere stupid. Somewhere you think you’re alone.”

“Yeah.” I took the note back. “That’s the fucking mafia.”

Misha’s mouth flattened.

“I’m always a target,” I said.

“Yeah.” He looked away. “You’re not wrong.”

I tucked the note against my ribs. “You gonna be okay tonight?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mom. I’ll be okay.” His smile twitched, then softened. “I’m going out tonight. Adrian’s here.”

Air scraped raw down my windpipe. “Mirovsky’s at Evermourne tonight? For you or mafia business?”

Misha’s eyebrows lifted. “He said he was here for someone. He doesn’t tell me much, but I think it’s one of the professors.”

“A professor with ties to Adrian Mirovsky?”

Misha waved a hand. “Yeah, but don’t talk about it to anyone. I don’t need more trouble. Remember?”

I looked at him. “You sure he’s good to you?”

Misha nodded. “Yeah. I swear.” He crossed his heart with a crooked grin.

I shook my head. Misha’s family was a fucking mess compared to mine. I didn’t like Adrian Mirovsky. Didn’t trust him with Misha.

The bike sat beside us. Bad fucking idea. Aster waited beyond the trees. I swung a leg over and gripped the throttle. Misha watched me, then gave a lazy mock salute.

“See you later, brat.” He turned and headed back toward Briar House.

I kicked the bike to life and took off. Aster came into view too fast. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I killed the engine at the orchard wall, near Dahlia, back path toward Aster.

Close enough.

Technically.

Eloise Valemont stood beneath the black arch in ivory gloves, laughing with two Vesper boys. Pale, sharp-featured, always looking like she’d rather be anywhere else. She saw me and froze. Her smile dropped fast. Arms crossing tight over her chest.

“Ashbourne,” she drawled. “Should I start screaming?”

“Only if you want an audience.”

“How very Thorn of you.”