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“Mm.” Thierry glanced over at Simone, who was watching Brent with sympathy in her dark eyes. “He’s clearly not lying. Otherwise, his heartbeat would be all over the place. That doesn’t mean he’s right, of course.” He paused. Then, more thoughtfully, he added, “Though, I suppose they might’ve used wooden bullets or silver if they’d known what we were.”

“You haven’t answered my question,” Sadie said coldly, ignoring him. Her gaze was still locked on Brent. “Why send eight?”

Brent looked visibly ill. “That’s—that’s—” He swallowed, sucking in a deep breath. “A whole crew can clean the scene quickly. Make it look like something else went down. A robbery gone wrong. Suicide. A gang hit. Something that doesn’t put the family in danger. They can contain witnesses. That sort of thing.”

“How lovely,” Sadie sneered, her eyes flashing with barely suppressed anger. “And they found you how, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Brent said, his expression rapidly crumbling. “I swear.”

Sadie looked exactly as if she didn’t believe him and was prepared to bulldoze her way into an explanation through any means necessary.

“Sadie, darling,” Thierry drawled, before she could continue her questioning. “Perhaps we ought to secure the scene ourselves and ask questions later, when we’ve gotten to a place that hasn’t just had a major altercation? There’s an excellent chance police are on their way.”

I stood. Whatever happened next didn’t matter. Not really. I’d done my part. Brent would live through the night.

Provided, of course, that Sadie didn’t murder him. She wasn’t actually a killer, as far as I knew, but I was sure she’d be able to make the rest of his night extremely unpleasant.

Without another word, I made my way into the kitchen and opened the freezer.

Derek was huddled on the ground, a miserable expression on his face. He jumped to his feet, his gaze raking over me.

“You’re okay? Seriously?”

I nodded. My fangs were still out. I no longer cared.

“And did everyone—is everyone else alive?”

I nodded.

Then my expression crumpled and my eyes burned, turning glassy and blurring my vision. My throat tightened. I’d gotten so close to losing myself again. But I hadn’t.

Derek pulled me into an embrace, holding onto me tightly. Something within me broke—a floodgate opening at last—and I let myself cry, really and truly cry.

I cried for my lost humanity. For the horrors Magnus had inflicted upon me—and forced me to inflict upon others. I cried for every moment I’d spent believing I was a monster who deserved no happiness, no solace, instead of attempting to be the sort of man—because I was still a man, whatever else I was—who could love Derek the way he deserved. And perhaps most of all, I cried for never letting myself realize I could be different, that I could choose.

But I was different.

Now I knew that when I had a choice, even a hard one, I chose not to be a monster.

I could trust myself.

I could choose.

Derek held me until my tears subsided.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, over and over, soothing me. “You’re going to be okay, Quinn.”

And for the very first time, I let myself fully believe him.

CHAPTER TEN || DEREK

“Can we go back to your place?” Quinn asked. It was nearly sunrise and we’d returned to Capitol Hill. We were at the back entrance to the bar and my mate was hesitating. “I’d like to. It’s been a long night.”

He wasn’t wrong. At Thierry’s urging, Sadie had grudgingly allowed the possibility that Brent was telling us the truth—he’d even consented to letting her use hypnotic power on him to prove it—and he hadn’t had anything to do with the ambush.

I wasn’t surprised. Brent wasn’t like that. And, in fact, it had started to make a lot more sense why he’d dated me in the first place. He’d needed an escape from the insanity of his family. A bit of normalcy to anchor himself to. He’d never intended on what happened to me. He was mostly an innocent in all of this.

From what we’d been able to piece together, Brent had been followed. Because he’d been having second—and third and fourth—thoughts about his family’s activities, thoughts he’d foolishly vocalized, his own father had decided he had to die.