Page 155 of Dark Night of the Soul

“Told you.”

She snorted.

And then she disappeared back down the hall and into the bathroom.

I remained where I was, the caustic scent of hair color lingering in the air where she’d stood.

And something fainter—lavender soap. Her natural honey scent. All mixed into one heady aroma that was wholly her.

Black.

Not that I preferred it. I remembered it.

For one suspended moment, she wasn’t stitched together by prophecy and trauma and violence. She looked like herself. Like the woman I first saw beneath the garish glow of a portico so many months ago. Armed with apprehension and sarcasm and nothing more.

Before the world took more from her than it deserved.

Before she would alter everything I thought I knew about myself.

I turned back to the table and the plan that would either save her—or damn us both.

Ludwig and Ulrich returned the following day mid-morning carrying updated intel.

She’d been standing on the balcony watching the world, still, waiting, calm. When they arrived, they both looked her over, noting her changed appearance.

Ulrich said nothing. Merely took it in stride.

“Better,” Ludwig said with a nod.

She gave him her best flat expression and bit back a retort. But I let the bond open long enough to catch the thought beneath her expression. As if I needed your approval.

“We move tonight,” Ludwig announced, moving to the table and spreading out the new documents.

“That soon?” she asked. Her voice was calm. Steady. She sounded ready.

“Knights will be shifting equipment into the facility in the morning,” Ulrich said. “It’s our best window.”

Ludwig spread blueprints across the table. Ulrich added surveillance photos. Guard positions, shift rotations, entry points marked in red.

I moved closer. She followed, positioning herself beside me.

“Server room is here,” Ulrich said, tapping the blueprint. “Sub-level two. Three access points, but only one doesn’t trigger secondary alerts.”

“Guard coverage?” I asked.

“Rotating patrol. Six-hour shifts. Tonight’s crew is smaller—four instead of six. Two exterior, two interior.”

Ludwig leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “And they’ll be distracted. Equipment delivery means loading dock activity, paperwork, signatures. Eyes elsewhere.”

“How long do we have?” she asked.

“Thirty minutes,” Ulrich said. “Forty if we’re lucky.”

“That’s not much time,” she said.

Ludwig’s mouth curved. “You’d be surprised what we can accomplish in thirty minutes.”

I shot him a look.