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“I’m sure this won’t take long,” Loren offered quietly as Darien squeezed the steering wheel with his good hand, leather groaning beneath his twisting grip. She was a sweetheart for trying to calm him down, but any amount of time was too long when her tattoos indicated that her health was rapidly deteriorating.

She had tried to hide their red glows of warning when he’d brought her down to the sauna in Roman’s house. When she’d come out of the change room, she had tucked her forearm against her side, partially concealing it in the folds of her white towel. But her attempt to keep him from noticing had failed. Nothing escaped him—especially when it came to her.

They were running out of time, and the last thing he wanted was to have to perform CPR on her again. It was too damaging, and he was lucky as hell that her ribs hadn’t cracked from theforce he’d had to use while compressing her chest. He figured the magic serum had something to do with that, but he didn’t want to chance it again.

And now, to make matters worse, he was being forced to sit here.

Traffic was at a total standstill. The cars way,wayup ahead, at the very front of the six-lane highway, were just…idling. Judging from the crowds of people who’d resorted to getting out of their vehicles to confront the authorities, they hadn’t budged for some time.

Darien leaned forward and summoned his Sight with one firm blink, his vision shifting to a canvas of black with neon silhouettes. He scanned the auras of MPU workers, cops, firefighters, Fleet soldiers, and other military personnel. Fire trucks, squad cars, and army tanks formed blockades across every lane.

Something compelled him to scan the forcefield itself—the green runes that ran in columns that bubbled above the city.

Except they weren’t green—not anymore. They were red.

The blood drained from his head, and so did the Sight from his eyes, the air from his lungs.

No.

No.

The forcefield?—

They’d alreadyfuckingput it up.

33

The Warehouse

YVESWICH, STATE OF KER

Roman had never hungeredfor someone’s blood as strongly as he hungered for Simon’s tonight. This moment was a long time coming, and he didn’t intend on wasting it with an easy death—not after everything this man had done to him. To Pax. Roman would bleed him dry like a butcher bled a pig. He would not make it quick.

“Hello, Simon.” Roman’s greeting was quiet and deadly. With a steady hand, his grip crushing, he picked Simon up by the throat, lifting him so high his feet dangled above the ground. Roman used his magic as a shield, stopping Simon from effectively fighting back. “You look surprised to see me.”

A person’s body was like a tomato—very easy to squish. And the throat, Roman had learned early in life, was one of the best places to target in a fight. You couldn’t build muscles to protect yourself there, so all a person had to do was catch you unawares. A throat punch or non-fatal strangulation served very well in combat.

Roman summoned his magic in full with one firm blink, black engulfing his eyes.

Shadows seeped out of him, ballooning into an inky cloud, just like the darkness swallowing the city. Roman directed afew wisps of it upward, snaking the shadows around Simon’s neck. With a featherlight touch, they tickled the back of Roman’s hand, as if to say,Let go. We got this.

So Roman did, using his powers instead of his muscle to lift Simon into the air.

“I’ve been waiting a very long time to kill you,” Roman said, every word spoken in a deliberately unhurried way. “A very,verylong time.”

He loosened the shadows that were crushing Simon’s windpipe—just enough to allow for a response.

“You won’t,” Simon squeezed out, his heartbeat thumping beneath the skin of his neck. “You lack the guts.”

“What I’ve lacked is opportunity,” Roman countered. It was true—Simon and Trey had been very strategic over the years, taking precautions to ensure they were never caught anywhere alone with Roman. They’d hidden behind Don many, many times. But not tonight.

Not anymore.

“But tonight…,” he continued, pinning Simon with a cold, black stare. “Tonight feels like the perfect time. Don’t you agree?”

“You won’t,” he said again, though his eyes shone with doubt. “Your dad?—”

“My dad isn’t here,” Roman snarled. “And by the time he arrives, I’ll be long gone. As for you…you’ll be dead, Simon.”