Page 48

Silent.

Zarek’s voice cut through the silence, sharp as a blade. He turned to Sebastian, his tone low but biting. “Did you know about any of this?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, arms crossed. “Are you serious?”

Zarek ignored him and shifted his glare to Gray. “You really expect us to believe you’ve been protecting us?” His voice was steady, but something lethal simmered beneath it. “That out of the kindness of your non-existent hearts, you let us live?”

A restrained violence, coiled tight, waiting to snap. I didn’t quite understand Zarek’s reaction.

Gray’s expression was blank, not a twitch in sight. “Will my answer expedite your decision? Soothe your soul, perhaps?”

But Zarek’s jaw twitched, his muscles locking tight. Sebastian exhaled, rubbing his temple.

“Ghost. Isn’t our goal the same?”

Zarek turned to him, voice eerily calm. “What I think is that you’re too comfortable with their presence here, Ranger.”

Sebastian groaned.

“Dylan sent them,” Amelia interjected. “‘Fireflies’ is a code we use. It means something.”

Leora jumped in. “The same Dylan who’s disappeared? That’s your argument?”

Bee looked at Leora and giggled. Fucking giggled . “Dylan didn’t send us. Titan did.”

What the—?

The screw is fucking loose on this little psycho.

I turned to Amelia, her face pale, eyes distant.

“Lia,” I said gently, “what does ‘fireflies’ mean?”

Her face crumpled.

“It was something between him and Riley, but… the three of us started using it. It basically means—” she swallowed, “move on without me. I’m not coming back.”

Her voice cracked.

Without thinking, I reached up, brushing away the tear sliding down her cheek.

“I get it, Amelia,” Zarek cut in, his voice quiet. “But I don’t think Dylan meant for us to start working with them .”

Sebastian’s voice was calmer now. “Think logically, Zarek. If they wanted us dead, we’d be dead. Instead, they’re standing here, having a conversation with us. You think they do that for just anyone?”

Zarek’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re right. They probably don’t. But they do answer to people. And five years ago, they answered to someone when they ripped my brother to shreds.”

A hollow, suffocating silence took hold.

Zarek’s brother was killed by Deathmark?

His voice didn’t waver. “So forgive me if I don’t believe for a second that they suddenly grew a fucking conscience.”

Gray didn’t blink. “We don’t do conscience.”

Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is going nowhere.”

“It is.” Zarek’s voice turned final, cutting, like a blade through steel. “It’s where these hollowed-out machines walk out this door and never come back.”

“Zarek, listen—”

Zane, apparently, had reached his limit.

“No, he’s right. They expect us to work with them when we know they’ve been hired to kill us. Are we just, what… supposed to bend over, spread wide, and take it while they’re trying to insult us with every fucking word that comes out of this fucker’s mouth?”

Gray smirked. “We’re not trying very hard.”

The little psycho giggled again. A full, delighted, spine-chilling, borderline orgasmic giggle.

Zane froze. Looked at her like she was an escaped experiment. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you, woman?”

Bee leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “You said ‘spread wide’.”

Zane made a guttural noise, somewhere between a strangled yell and the sound of a man watching his sanity walk away forever.

Sebastian exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “Can you give us some time to regroup?”

Bee casually glanced at her bare wrist, like she was checking the time on a nonexistent watch.

It almost made Zarek’s point for him. They really weren’t normal .

Gray sniffed and said, “No.”

And nothing else.

The fuck?

He shifted slightly and muttered under his breath. “He’s calling.”

Who now?

That was all it took. The entire Deathmark team moved in unison toward the door, as if pulled by an invisible thread.

Then—

The silent one tapped his forearm twice. A signal.

And they all stopped.

A signal that was uniquely theirs.

My entire body locked up as he turned toward us.

The one who hadn’t spoken. Hadn’t reacted. Had barely moved.

So when he took a slow step forward, the shift in the air was instant.

Tension snapped tight, suffocating.

Gray’s voice was careful, a quiet warning. “Be sure, Vic.”

Vic nodded.

And then he stopped in front of us.

Slowly, deliberately, he pulled off his balaclava.

This was the same man who helped Amelia and I escape from the White House. The scarred, stoic man who handed me the keys to the convertible.

What the hell?

Then I noticed Zarek.

He wasn’t breathing. Wasn’t moving.

Sebastian’s expression barely flickered—just slightly—but Logan’s reaction twisted my gut.

Because Logan’s breath caught. His face went pale, his body rigid, like he was looking at a ghost.

And then, in a voice so low it almost wasn’t there, Vic exhaled a name.

“…Zar.”

Zarek shook his head in disbelief and took a slow, careful step forward.

No one spoke.

No one fucking breathed.

Vic just stood there like a statue, expression utterly blank. He didn’t show any emotions while Zarek? Zarek’s fingers curled into fists, his lower lip trembling.

He looked like he might either collapse or kill him.

Was is just me or were his eyes pleading?

Then, without a word, without so much as a goddamn breath—he turned and walked out, Leora in tow.

Logan let out a tight exhale, his eyes locked on Vic.

Vic nodded at him. “Logan.”

Logan’s throat worked on a hard swallow, his voice raw.

“Zavier.”