Page 45 of Bound in Blood

“And since that is clearly irrational, I guess we’ll just have to trust you.” Mateo forced a smile. “Even if you come home saying crazy things like ‘good evening,amore mio,I have made friends with a rabid coyote. Don’t worry! He will not bite.’”

Logan huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Ididn’tbring home a rabid coyote.”

“Notyet,” Mateo teased. “But at this rate, I’m keeping my eye on you.”

Logan’s lips twitched, but the tension in his shoulders hadn’t entirely faded. Mateo could feel it, lingering just under the surface, the guilt, the uncertainty, the exhaustion weighing heavy on him.

Marco must have felt it too, because he sighed and reached for Logan’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “Basta, caro.Enough stress for one night. It’s late, we’re all tired, and nothing can be done until tomorrow. Come to bed.”

Mateo sniffed the air dramatically, “Well, shower first, then bed. You smell like a bachelorette party.”

“I donot—” Logan began to argue, but Mateo cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips.

“Shh. No backtalk.”

Logan looked between the two of them, still tense, but the corners of his mouth had twitched upward just a tad. “You’re sure you’re not mad?”

“Positive,” Marco said firmly.

Logan gave a tiny, grateful nod, then padded off up the stairs toward the bathroom. The sound of water running a few moments later was oddly soothing.

Mateo and Marco followed moments later, into Mateo’s bedroom, where Mateo wasted no time before collapsing onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Marco shut the door behind them with a quiet click and leaned back against it for a moment, watching his brother with tired eyes. Mateo had flung his arm dramatically over his face like the weight of the night had physically knocked him out.

“Well,” Mateo muttered, voice muffled by his bicep. “that was a lot.”

Marco snorted and crossed the room to sit at the edge of the bed next to his brother. “You think?”

Mateo peeked at him through parted fingers. “You know, I think living in Wartime Paris was less stressful than whatever the hell we’ve been through in the last few days. I didn’t think it was possible to?—”

“Care so much.” Marco nodded in agreement. “I didn’t think so either.”

Mateo waved a hand at Marco dismissively. “Yeah, but haven’t you done all this before? With?—”

“Don’t,” Marco warned, “I don’t want to hear that name. And no, it wasn’t ever like this.”

Mateo watched him a beat before nodding. “All right. Fair.”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, only the sound of running shower water from the next room over filling the quiet between them.

Marco leaned back on his hands and glanced toward the bathroom door down the hall, where steam was beginning to curl out into the air. “He really does smell like a bachelorette party.”

Mateo snorted. “I wasn’t exaggerating. I think I caught a whiff of bubblegum vodka.”

“Dio aiutaci?*…” Marco sighed, but there was no heat behind it. “He’ll be the death of us.”

Mateo hummed. “Wouldn’t be a bad way to go.”

Marco didn’t answer. He just tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion finally settle. Mateo turned on his side to face him, propping himself up on one elbow.

“You all right?” he asked, voice softer now.

Marco opened his eyes again, slow. “Just tired.”

“It’s been a long day,” Mateo agreed.

Marco snorted. “Tomorrow will be longer.”