Page 93 of The FBI Agents Who Stole Me

No more guns sound. We must have killed them all.

“What about the deal for Lee and Elliot?” Julian asks.

“Loft’s death makes the arrangement unstable, but not useless. I’ll take over his house obligations. Fuller’s protection was already cracking. Riley is working on getting everything to the press. I’ll handle the Eligere side.”

“Why?” Julian asks.

I give him a thin smile. “Because Lee is Marge’s family. Which makes her mine.”

His throat works.

“And because Fuller helped turn children into addicts for money,” I add. “Even the Eligere should have known better than to trust someone as awful as him.”

“He’s Eligere?” Julian asks, eyebrows raised.

“He was trying to be. That's why they agreed to your deal so quickly. They already had access to him, so he was an easy hit. And he was on the hook for losing contacts from Jack Vega, his sponsor.”

Gabe’s eyes stay locked on mine, heavy and burning with everything we’re not saying. The night air is thick with the metallic bite of blood and damp earth. Samuel Loft’s body lies a few feet from us, dark and still, his blood already soaking into the dirt.

Julian nods once. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Go get to Lee before she kills Fuller and posts about it on her dark website. It will make more work for me to cover up. If anyone asks, Loft killed Fuller tonight.”

Julian doesn’t hesitate. He turns and takes off into the trees, boots crunching over leaves and snapping twigs as he disappears into the dark.

A low groan pulls my attention. One of Loft’s enforcers is dragging himself toward the tree line, one arm useless at his side.

The staff leaves my hand on instinct. It cuts through the air and punches clean through the man’s forearm, pinning him to the ground with a wet, solid thud.

He cries out and tries to crawl farther, but he’s stuck.

My boots sink into the soft earth as I walk to him. “I need you to send a message about who killed Samuel Loft.”

The enforcer goes still, chest heaving, eyes wide with pain and fear.

Gabe glances at him then crouches beside Loft’s body. He reaches into the dead man’s coat and pulls out his phone, the screen lighting up his bloodstained fingers. “A messenger will set off a shitstorm.”

“Good,” I say.

His eyes cut back to mine.

“The Arbiters need to know Loft is dead,” I continue. “They need to know Valeria Lopez is not available to be bred.”

Gabe rises slowly to his full height, unfolding from his crouch with the kind of controlled power that comes from years of discipline. He’s built like a soldier because that’s what they turned him into. Even with dirt and blood smeared on his cheek he’s gorgeous.

“You are not taking credit for this. Frost didn’t see you. You can blame it on me.”

“I have to.”

“The hell you do.”

I step close enough that his chest almost touches mine. My head tilts to look up at him, and he stares at my lips.

“You killed him because of me. If they know that, they will come for you. But if they think I ordered it, they have to summon me before they punish me. And with the lack of houses, they won’t want to get rid of me.”

“Jesus, that isn’t better.”

I watch until Julian’s taillights disappear into the dark. The second they’re gone, Gabe’s hand closes around my wrist. His grip is firm, and the moment his skin meets mine, heat flares up my arm like it always does.