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I don’t want to. But I also know I can’t delay this forever. Eventually I’ll have to look at him, talk to him, like a normal person. So I take a deep breath and force my gaze to meet his. What I find makes me feel bad for taking my disappointment out on him. He looks almost as unhappy as I am.

“I know you’re upset and hurt and angry and…” He shrugs. “I also know you’re looking for someone to blame, and while I’m willing to absorb the brunt of your anger, I swear to you, Shiv, I did not arrange this, nor did I ask for it. Like you, I go wherever Arthur sees fit to send me. And, for whatever reason, he sees fit to send me to Italy with you.”

I watch him closely, waiting for him to rub his lips together, swipe a hand through his hair. But he remains steady before me, hands by his sides, gaze openly pleading with mine.

“What we’re about to do is dead serious work. So beforeIfeel safe enough to set out withyou, I’m going to need some assurances.”

I look at him. Swallow past the lump in my throat.

“I need you to take a breath. I need you to center yourself, and I need you to remember what this is really about. My job in Italy is to help you when needed and protect you if things go south. And I promise you this—I will willingly risk my own life to ensure your safety. But for me to do that effectively, I need you to take my life seriously, too. When this is over and done and we’re safely back at Gray Wolf, you can go back to hating me for as long as you wish.”

“Promise?” I say.

Killian’s lips tug into a half grin. “I give you my word. Now…” He slides a silver ring from his pinky finger and offers it to me.

“What’re you doing?” I glance between the silver ring and him.

“It’s the clicker,” he says. “I think you should have it.”

I stare at the ring, but my hands remain by my sides. “I don’t need it,” I tell him.

Killian’s brows press together. His head cocks to the side in a way that causes a renegade curl to spill into his eyes.

“None of this is about me not trusting you,” I say. “It’s just—”

“You’re upset. I know. And that I can deal with. But I also know you don’t entirely trust me. And since trust is essential in our line of business, I’m going to insist that you take control of the clicker. You determine when you’re ready to return.”

“And what if I leave you behind?” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. It’s a terrible thing to say to someone who’s already suffered that fate, but the trust he’s putting in me, the way he’s looking at me, willingly accepting my anger, leaves me feeling strangely unsteady.

He shrugs. “You won’t do that.”

“How can you be so sure?” I challenge.

“Because I know you better than you think, and it’s not in your nature.” Gently, he grabs hold of my wrist, deposits the ring in the center of my palm, and folds my fingers around it.

“It’s only good for a few hours,” I say.

“And it will be good again in forty-eight hours. But hopefully I’ll have proved myself by then.” His eyes roam my face, searching for an opening, a way back to the friendly banter we once shared. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I haven’t used a single accent during this entire conversation. That’s got to count for something, at least?”

There’s a burning in my throat, a sting at the back of my eyes, and though I do what I can to quell the emotional turmoil waging within, I’m pretty sure Killian has already mapped that terrain.

“So, we good?” he asks. “You and me—we ready to do this thing?”

He offers his hands, and since this is what I came for, I reach down and take them. They’re warm, strong, and so large, they practically swallow mine whole.

“Are you ready, Shiv?” His blue eyes meet mine.

I fill my lungs with air. On the exhale, I say, “Fine. Let’s do this. Let’s go.”

I watch as he signals to the control room, and the next thing I know, there’s a sharp blast of sulfur—a vaporous cloud—as a thunderous buzz explodes through the room.

“Don’t let go.” Killian’s fingers squeeze mine as a flash of dazzling light races toward the gaseous cloud, freezes on contact, and instantly transforms into a glittering doorway.

The last thing I see before the wall drops and gravity fails is the determined look on Arthur’s face as he watches from the control room.

Then Killian and I lift high off our heels as a great rush of wind thrusts us through the portal, rocketing us right out of this century and back into another.

History is a set of lies agreed upon.