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“But we don't know that,” Talon interjects, leaning forward. “The Collector isn’t going to kill him. He’s too valuable.”

“Try telling her that.” Zaire's laugh is hollow, empty of any real humor. “She just kept saying the same thing over and over.”

“She kept cycling between being convinced he's dead and certain he's alive.” His voice catches. “She begged me to promise we'd find him.”

"And?” Talon prompts.

“What the fuck do you think?” Zaire snaps, then immediately closes his eyes, exhaling slowly. “Sorry. I promised her we wouldn't stop looking until we found him—dead or alive. Has Alex found anything?”

“He hasn’t emerged yet from his lair. The music is still going so he’s working,” I offer.

Alex and music go hand in hand. We can normally tell his mood by what he’s playing. Metal when he’s concentrating. Classical music when he’s in the basement doing his serial killer shit. Pop for some reason when he’s drunk. To be honest, he’s a revolving door of musical tastes.

“Oz told me about the photos,” Talon adds.

"Don't." Zaire's voice cuts like a blade. "Not now.”

Talon shifts beside me. “If there's something in those photos that could help us find Luca?—”

“You think I don't know that?” Zaire hisses.

“We're all trying to help her,” I say, attempting to soothe the tension crackling between them. “We're all on the same side here.”

“I know that, Oz. But, the last thing I want to do is drag her back down into the depths when we just got her head above water. Those fucking photos will take her back there. I’m not willing to risk losing her again. If either of you care about her, you wouldn’t want that either.”

“That's not fair,” Talon snaps. “You don't have a monopoly on caring about her.”

“She’s blown you once, to my knowledge. Vesper having your cock in her mouth does not give you some moronic claim to know what’s best for her.”

“And just because you’ve fucked her doesn’t mean you do either.”

I stand before this can escalate further. “Both of you, stop. This isn't helping Vesper or Luca.”

“We all fucking care about her. Don’t turn this into a pissing match. Her choice, remember, Z?” My brother glowers at my use of his own words against him from when I am struggling with the idea of sharing her with him. He’d been right, of course. It is her choice. Vesper needs my brother, and I, Talon, too, it seems. Who am I to deny her happiness? With the three of us, she’ll always be protected, and I can live with that even if I have to share her.

“You two done?”

"Hardly,” Zaire mutters, but the fight drains from his posture. He slumps back in the chair, defeated in a way I've rarely seen him. “I can’t lose her again.”

Talon leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “None of us wants that. But we need to find Luca, and if those photos hold even a clue?—”

“I know.” Zaire's voice is hollow. “I fucking know.”

“We need to be smart about this,” I continue, pacing the small living room. “The Collector has Luca. We know that much. What we don't know is where he's keeping him, or what he plans to do with him.”

“What about Ricky?” Z asks. “He knew about the auction. Maybe he knows more.”

“He’s a start,” I admit. “But it’s going to take more than a low life thug to get us to The Collector’s doorstep.”

“If we push him hard enough—” Talon starts, but the sound of a door opening cuts him off.

Alex steps from his room. All heads turn toward him.

“Please tell me you found something,” I say, not bothering to hide the desperation in my voice.

He looks exhausted, dark circles smudging the skin beneath tired features, his usually meticulous appearance disheveled. He’s been working nonstop since we got back. Running a hand through his hair, he nods slowly.

Zaire straightens immediately, every muscle in his frame coiled tight. “What is it?”