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Silence filled the room, Viking looked down, his jaw worked. Seven men, seven families who weren't getting the reunion I'd gotten.

“Names?”

“I'll give them to you later.”

Viking nodded. “And the warehouse?”

“Cleared.”

“Weapons?”

“Enough for a fucking war.”

My fingers tightened around my toast, Roman looked at me before continuing.

“Silver ammunition. Demon-forged blades. Explosives. Restraints designed for vampires. Maps.”

“What maps?” Viking asked.

Roman's eyes hardened. “Territories. Safe houses. Businesses. Supply routes.”

Draugr added, “Ours included.”

Viking went very still. “So Malakai's preparing an offensive.”

“He already has,” Roman said. “The demons prove that.”

I put the plate aside. “And Ceasar?” All three men looked at me. “What happens now?” Viking's expression changed, I knew that look, I'd seen it before. The predator, the berserker, the man who had nearly beaten Ceasar to death before taking a poisoned blade through his body.

Fear seized me. “No.”

Viking immediately looked at me. “Bryn.”

“No.” I climbed off the bed. “You're not going after him.”

Roman opened his mouth but I pointed at him. “No.” He wisely shut it.

“You nearly died!” Viking reached for me but I stepped back.

His face tightened. “Angel.”

“Don't angel me.”

Draugr looked suspiciously amused but I ignored him. “You said you wouldn't do it again.”

“I won't.”

“You're talking about Ceasar.”

“Yes.”

“And you look like you want to tear his head off.”

“I do.”

“Viking!” He caught my wrist gently, then pulled me between his knees. I resisted for approximately half a second. His hands settled on my hips.

“Look at me.”