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“Yep,” Liam agreed all too readily, pulling a bundle of cash from the safe and slapping it on the desk.

“With Alistair, the Syndicate, Zion, and Goddess knows who else after me, there’s no way I can outrun them forever.”

“Nope.” Next to the cash, he placed three boxes of ammo.

“From what I understand about the soul sword, it’s far too dangerous to let fall into the wrong hands. The wrong hands being every creature in the underworld, as none can be trusted. Therefore, as much as it pains me to give up my leverage, I believe we need to destroy it somehow.”

“Yep.” He set a 9mm beside the ammo.

Weary of his one-word answers, she snapped, “Are you listening to me?”

“Every word.”

“Then why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I’m not arguing ’cause you’re finally making sense.” After closing the safe, he levered himself into the chair behind his desk.

She pressed her lips together.

“Are you sure you’re the only one who can touch the dagger?” He narrowed his eyes.

Did he think it was some story she’d fabricated? “When Dove was younger, she had a habit of exploring. During one of her adventures, she stumbled upon my initial hiding place. When she touched the dagger, it scalded her hand. It took months for the poor darling to heal.”

“Seems strange. Alistair created something that onlyyoucan touch.”

He was really going to make her do this. Force her to talk about that horrible night. Then again, perhaps it was time she shared the burden of that memory with someone.

She drew a slow breath. “While I’m no expert, I doubt it was his intent. Alistair called his dagger the soul sword for a reason. Trapped inside the stone are dozens of his victims. Several of those sacrifices he forced me to watch.” She dug her nails into her palms. “I can still remember every one of their faces. It was during those ceremonies I began to see a pattern. For months, I played along, pretended to be broken and weak.”

She stared at her clenched hands. “Alistair wanted me to be the final sacrifice. To punish me for not loving him enough. Mine was the last soul he needed to complete his life’s work. He went to a great deal of trouble for our special night.”

Her voice broke, and she squeezed her eyes closed, bracing herself against the images taking shape in her head. “He dressed me in a white gown. Lit dozens of candles. Sprinkled rose petals on an altar. When he attacked me, he underestimated my strength. My will to survive. During the ceremony, the energy glowing in his hands flickered. When that happened, I slipped free of my restraints and stabbed him with his own dagger. His laboratory caught fire during the struggle, and I believed he burned with the house.”

The sound of Liam’s boots hitting the ground whipped her head up. She realized too late she should have kept her eyes on him to measure his reaction. Radiating fury, he stormed around the desk and snatched her off the sofa, startling a yelp from her lips. Then he sank back into the leather cushion with her clasped in his arms.

He smashed her to his bare chest and rested his cheek on her head. “Promise you, if I ever get my hands on him, he’ll curse the day he fucked with Vivian Laurent. First, I’ll cut off his eyelids. That way, he’ll have to watch while I skin him alive. Then I’ll—”

She pressed her fingertips to his mouth, shuddering at the image he evoked. “I’m certain you will make his final moments the most painful.” Apparently, this was her burly protector’s idea of offering comfort. Her heart warmed.

He nodded, seeming appeased. “That final ceremony you interrupted must have bound you to the dagger.”

“I believe so. Worse, the issue goes beyond touch. The greater the distance between myself and the soul sword, the weaker I become.”

After a long moment where he seemed to mull things over, he said, “Guess, locking you away in a tower and ditching this thing without you is out of the question.”

How like him to think he could leave her behind. She snorted at his honesty. “Unfortunately, we’re a package deal.”

“There’s a good chance Alistair documented that bit of intel in his notes. With his journals making the rounds, your enemies will know they need both you and the dagger, putting you right in their crosshairs.”

She’d already come to this frightening conclusion as she rode behind him with her negligee flying up around her waist. “I’m afraid so.”

He exhaled a frustrated sigh, his massive chest heaving beneath her. “Any idea on how we go about destroying an indestructible object made of dark energy?”

“I, uh, might know someone who can help you,” Gavin said from the doorway, a tray with three steaming cups of coffee in his hands.

Liam cut him a glare. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough, and lucky for you, I did.” He set the tray on Liam’s desk.