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Then I look to Killian, pull my hand from my pocket, and flash my empty palm.

“Forget it,” I say. “You don’t get to manipulate me.” But Killian just laughs.

“Thing is, Shiv,” he says. “If you don’t give me the Moon, sometime within, oh, I don’t know, the next minute or so, your boy Braxton here is about to cross his own timeline. And I think we all know what that means.”

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My gaze finds Braxton’s. “Is that true?”

He takes a shallow breath and nods in return.

“Then why’d you come here? Why would you risk it?”

“Because I needed to find you,” he says. “I needed to save you from”—he glares at Killian—“him.”

The words knock me sideways, stealing the air clean out of my lungs.Braxton risked his life to save me from Killian, while I…

While I left him to bleed—left him at the mercy of Savonarola’s zealots.

“As touching as this is,” Killian says. “I assure you, it’s about to get a lot less sexy when he crosses his timeline and you watch him disintegrate before your very eyes.”

“You’re a monster.” I glare at Killian. “You don’t know the first thing about being a human, never mind what it means to love.”

“Maybe so,” he says. “But I tell you this, Shiv—you’re as close to love as I’ve ever known, and I’m loyal to a fault. I take care of those who take care of me. You had your chance to be included in that lot, but you made your choice. And while I’ve no interest in punishing you or seeking revenge, I promised Arthur I’d bring him the Moon, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Now, kindly hand it over, so Braxton and I can be on our way.”

Braxton sighs, nodding for me to go along. But that’s only because he sees no other way out of this mess.

Luckily, I do.

I slip a hand in my pocket, folding my fingers around the object I seek.

“I’m going to toss it to you,” I tell him, my gaze fixed hard on Killian’s. “And you better catch it, because I’m not coming any closer, and there won’t be any do-overs.”

Killian thrusts a hand forward while the other continues to hold the blade fast to Braxton’s neck. “Nice and easy does the trick,” he sings, his eyes glinting on me.

Raising my fist, I arc my arm wide and pitch the object into the air, aiming it just over Killian’s head.

I watch as his gaze lifts—

Watch as he turns, lifting off his heels in an effort to catch it—

Then I lunge.

My hands shoving hard into Killian’s side, I push him clear of the portal and clasp Braxton’s hand in mine.

“You should probably keep that,” I say, delighting in the sight of Killian’s outraged face as he grasps the small onyx shiv he once carved for me. “Just a little reminder of another Trip that went sideways.”

A second later, Braxton hits his clicker, and the two of us soar five hundred years forward in time.

But the stars that marked our starting fall away.

We must go deeper into great pain,

for it is not permitted that we stay.

—Dante Alighieri,Inferno

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