Page 119

“Careful, little mouse, that’s my strongest asset.”

Blinking, I finally choke out, "Don't ever tell my mother about this.”

Zade's brows pinch, and his mouth opens, then closes, before finally settling on, "What?"

I extract my wrist from his grip, my blood spiking hot from the lingering adrenaline, and now embarrassment.

"What just happened was entirely dramatic, and if she ever finds out I'm just like her, I'll die."

He blinks, amusement filtering in his yin-yang irises. "You'll die, huh?"

I nod once, sharply. "In absolute misery."

His mouth quirks up. "I wouldn't dream of it then."

Sniffing, I nod once more, straighten out my shirt purely just to give my hands something to do other than stabbing people, and then turn, open a drawer, and pull out another knife.

"Good."

He's silent for a beat. "Do you want to talk about the attempted murder that just occurred?"

"Not really," I answer, chopping off another piece of carrot.

"But I do."

I sigh, setting the knife down and pivoting to face him again.

"Zade, I think I'd rather talk about my mother trying to convince me that chastity belts were the latest fashion when I was fourteen than talk about trying to stab you."

Another pause. "Okay, so there's a lot to unpack here, and I'm not sure where to start."

"Exactly, can you believe her? I told her she might as well make the chastity belt into an electric fence, too, so I don't have to suffer through that."

He arches a brow, fighting a smile. "Yeah, baby, not dramatic at all."

I shoot him a droll look. “You’re here. Why are you here? Did you need something?”

“Just you, little mouse.”

Dammit. Why does he have to say all the right things? He knows exactly what he’s doing, too, and how much I secretly enjoy it.

I narrow my eyes, and he forges on, a slight curl to his lip as he speaks.

“While I’m not scared of the Society, we are currently sitting ducks, and I need to handle a few things with Jay. And there are a few things I need to discuss with you, starting with who put a target on your head.”

“Claire, right?” I ask. Surprise flashes across his face.

r /> “How did you know?”

“She came to visit me.”

His face smooths into a blank slate, but it’s a mirage. Anger swirls beneath the surface, bubbling out through his hardened tone. “What did she say?”

“Pretty much just bitch-slapped me with the knowledge that she’s been the big man behind the screen the entire time. She was there because she knew you were looking for me, and I was going to be handled differently to ensure that you wouldn’t find me.”

He nods slowly. “I’m not going to rush you, but eventually, I’ll need to know if you saw anyth—”

“I want to help,” I cut in. It doesn’t give me anxiety like I thought it would. Instead, it gives me a sense of relief.