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I walk to stand over her.

The fallen queen lifts her chin. Rain washes mascara down her cheeks in gray streaks, ruining the face she spent decades perfecting. Her lips curl back and even now, bleeding on the ground in a Chicago alley, she spews venom.

"Your father was weak. Sentimental. He loved you more than his empire and that is why he died."

"No." I lower the barrel until it hovers six inches from her chest. "He died because you killed him. And his empire dies with you."

I pull the trigger and Vivienne Castellano stops breathing.

Silence fills the space the gunshot left behind. Rain takes over, steady and indifferent, tapping against the car roof, the dumpster lids, the cooling barrel of the Sig in my hand.

I stare at the woman on the ground. Platinum hair fanning in a puddle turning pink at the edges. Her crimson lipstick is still perfect on lips that will never form another lie.

The gun slips from my fingers and clatters against wet asphalt.

Warm hands close around my shoulders from behind. I flinch at first and then fall into Thane's chest. Warm arms come around me and he presses me close. His heartbeat pounds against my ear, fast and hard, proof that he's alive and here and mine.

"It's over, Neve."

I nod. My throat burns. But it’s my eyes that burn worse.

The low rumble of an engine rolls up behind Vivienne's Town Car and a dark SUV eases to a stop at the curb. The driver's door opens. A tall man steps out in a long black coat, moving with the unhurried authority.

Harlon Constantine.

I know him from my father's descriptions. The patriarch of Genesis. And that is about the extent of my knowledge.

Harlon surveys the alley with dark, measured eyes. The dead runners. The unconscious men. Vivienne's body against the car. His expression stays unattached, but his jaw shifts a fraction when his gaze settles on Thane.

"Cross."

Thane doesn't let me go. His arms stay locked around me, his chin resting on the top of my head. "Harlon. I guess you got my last message."

"I did. I’ve never had a Runner tell me I was about to die in such colorful words.”

“I didn't have a lot of time or I would have painted you a picture.”

“What are you two talking about?” I lift my head and look between them.

“Just work stuff. Before I left to hunt you down I shot off a message to my boss.” Thane jerks a thumb in the direction of Harlon. “I told him in very few words he would meet the end of his life if any harm came to you.”

“We can discuss that later.”

“Agreed. What about the contract on Neve’s head?”

“The contract holder is dead." Harlon glances at Vivienne with clinical detachment and then back at Thane. "No client, no contract. The hit on Neve Castellano is void."

Thane exhales and I witness the tension drain from his body in a single breath. His arms pull me closer. His lips press into my wet hair.

Harlon pulls a phone from his coat.

Pause.

"Sapphire. Castellano's contract is void. The client is deceased. Recall all active runners on this assignment for reassignment."

Another pause. "Yes, all of them. Snake Eyes is down in the field. Send cleanup."

Another pause.