Page 17

I can’t sleep, and it has nothing to do with the couch I’ve chosen as my bed, which is far more comfortable than my Academy bed was.

More than ever before, I find myself dreaming of Peyton, reaching for her over and over, only to surface from my dreams to find the space beside me empty.

Fuck, she fills my thoughts completely, even though staying away from her is the best thing I can do for her.

Finally giving up on sleep, I get up and move to stand at the wide windows on one side of the corner office that, only yesterday, I claimed as my own.

This office isn’t as large as the one my stepfather used, but it has its own bathroom and a view that lets me see all of the surrounding buildings and far into the distance.

The sun rises slowly across the city, rays of light stretching out toward me. The brightness hides the shadows within the streets below me, the dark alleys and grungy nightclubs, the dangers that become even more hidden in the daylight.

Abel’s warning from yesterday reverberates around and around my mind.

He told me to prepare for war.

But war only risks the lives of those I care about.

When I risked lives before, it was because I had no choice. I was forced into situations not of my own making.

Now, my choices are my own, and I won’t risk anyone.

Not my friends who have transformed the Academy into what it should be.

Not the assassins who took me in and gave me a new family.

Not my stepsister. And I sure as fuck won’t risk Peyton’s life.

Even if the danger to her is remote right now, I’ll never place danger in her path again.

Quiet sounds outside the door draw my attention. I recognize my stepsister’s demon scent, along with her gait, a few seconds before she knocks softly on the door. “Striker?”

“Come in.”

She’s hesitant as she pushes open the door, remaining in the doorway despite my welcome. She and I have a long way to go, but we have to start somewhere.

I incline my head away from the door, and she takes a step inside, her gaze flickering to the rumpled couch. “You slept here?”

I give her a small smile before I turn back to the view, ignoring the couch, as I gesture at all the buildings. “When you look out of this window, what do you see?”

She approaches silently. Even from a distance, I could perceive the dark rings under her eyes that tell me she might have slept more badly than I did. I’ve certainly never known her to get up this early.

She stops a few paces away from me and considers the skyscrapers, the glittering glass, the new rays of light. “A prison.”

Her response surprises me. “Zara?”

Her lips press together.

I reach out to her. “Talk to me.”

“You survived against all the odds, Striker. I can’t stand by and watch you become fodder in a new war.” She swings to me. “I won’t do it.”

I nod. “That’s good because I don’t intend to be drawn into a war.”

She takes a quick breath. “Wait… what?”

I allow myself to smile at her astonishment. I don’t blame her for thinking I would opt for bloodshed first.

Still, I don’t address her surprise, asking a question instead. “What do you know about Abel?”

She switches gears quickly—one of the things I like about her—even though I can tell she really wants to know more about my intentions.

“Not a lot,” she says. “He appeared on the scene six months ago. Father brought him to a board meeting one day. That was the first I saw of him.”

“How did they meet?”

“I’m not certain.” She shakes her head. “I’d never heard of him before then, but I suppose that’s part of his job. To remain anonymous.”

“Is he a dragon shifter?”

She glances at me. “He appears to be.”

I arch my eyebrows at her but keep my voice gentle. “That isn’t what I asked.”

Her lips part. Then close. She peers at me. “You want me to find out for sure?”

“I do.”

I’m not sure what other creature he could be—and the assassins made it clear that the dragon shifters in Philadelphia have their own challenges—but there’s something uncanny about him, and I just can’t put my finger on it.

She chews her lip. “But… I could lie to you.” She shakes her head rapidly. “I could lie to you about all kinds of things. About everything.”

She’s right. The trust between us is fragile, and her demon nature puts her at risk of perpetrating deception.

“You could.” I give her a nod. “But you won’t.”

She’s subdued, her features downcast. “How can you be sure, Striker?”

“Second chances, remember?”

She remains quiet for a long moment, returning to staring out at the city. “Thank you for your trust. You’re the only family I’ve got now, Striker. I promise you, I’m not about to throw that away.”

“Good, because I’m also not going to jeopardize what I’ve sacrificed so much to gain.”

I lean forward and plant my palms against the windowpane. My claws could cut right through the glass, shatter it. I could burn through this room, tear it all down. But I’m done destroying things.

“Tell me something else, Zara,” I say. “What do you know of this serpent shifter?”

I heard Abel’s version—the serpent shifter is powerful, a seasoned warrior, incredibly hard to beat, and worthy of fear.

Zara’s answers come freely now. “As Abel said, he stands at the right hand of a dark entity whose power and influence rivals Lady Tirelli’s.

But this dark entity is more than a physically strong being.

His influence is vast. He lives in the shadows but has the power to command all dark creatures. All of them swear allegiance to him.”

This is unwelcome news. “All of them?”

She nods. “Every clan, every pack, every group made up of dark creatures. They have their own leaders, of course, their own alphas and commanders, but they all, ultimately, bend a knee to this dark entity. When he commands them, they obey.”

I consider this carefully. “What kind of supernatural is he, if he can command all of them?”

It’s hard to imagine shifters and witches and harpies, with their diverse needs and rules, all following the same leader, especially given how loyal they are to their packs and clans.

Zara folds and unfolds her hands in front of herself. “Nobody knows what he is. I don’t even know what to call him other than ‘dark entity’ or ‘dark one’.”

I growl in the back of my throat. “That kind of anonymity can only breed fear and obedience. If his followers don’t know his exact power or even his identity, then they can’t know his weaknesses either.”

“All I can tell you is that he was in power long before I was even born, let alone before Father and I came to New York,” she says.

He’s well entrenched, then.

“How did Lady Tirelli work around that?” I ask since I can’t imagine she would have bent a knee to anyone, not even to as powerful an entity as the one Zara describes.

“They had a truce,” Zara says. “She didn’t interfere in his operations, and he left hers alone.”

Hmm . But now this entity’s right-hand warrior came after a Draven Industries weapons cache, which Lady Tirelli used to control.

Either this dark entity is making a play for control now that Lady Tirelli is dead, or… “What did Oliver do to make this entity angry?”

Zara draws a breath, and the same furrow appears in her brow that I noticed yesterday when she saw the picture of the serpent shifter.

“That’s the thing… I don’t know. Neither does…

did … Father. That’s why he was so agitated.

” Her voice is strained, and I sense the way she forces herself to continue.

“Even after Lady Tirelli disappeared, Father made a point of staying out of the dark entity’s path.

He couldn’t figure out what he did wrong to warrant this recent attack. ”

She’s suddenly shaking. I sense her sadness but also her anger, the way her emotions pull against each other. I could assume it’s about the threat this dark entity and his serpent shifter warrior pose to us, but I suspect it’s deeper than that.

She hated our father as much as I did, but she needs to mourn him, too.

I reach out for her again, this time with both arms, offering her a hug without assuming she’ll accept it.

She steps into my arms. “I’m sorry, Striker,” she says. “I’m sorry for what Father did to you.”

I hug her closer. I can’t tell her it’s okay, because it wasn’t. But I can tell her that we can move beyond it. “It’s a new day, Zara.”

“Second chances,” she whispers.

It’s a long moment before she steps back and wipes the tears from her cheeks. “What are you going to do?”

I’ve already decided. I just needed a little more information before I followed my instincts. “I’m going to ask for a meeting between the serpent shifter and me. I’m going to forge a new peace.”

I have no doubt that both the serpent shifter and the dark entity are on the assassins’ radar.

If those beings haven’t been taken down by assassins yet, then it will be for good reasons.

My alliance with the assassins means I can trust them to take action when they’re ready.

In the meantime, I will act to keep my loved ones safe.

Zara’s eyes have become wide. “A meeting… But the serpent could kill you.”

I give her such a broad smile that I feel my eyes crinkle at the corners. “Could he, though?”

She doesn’t buy my bravado, the worry in her voice hitting me hard. “Striker… I can’t lose you… I can’t let you walk into a death trap?—”

“I won’t choose war,” I say firmly. “If I choose war, then we’ll never stop fighting, and I’ll lose everything anyway.”

Taking hold of her shoulders, I continue, “Tell me what you can about our father’s contacts within the dark entity’s organization. I’ll approach one of them and broker a deal myself.”

I won’t endanger Zara with this task.

The path to peace is mine to walk.

But even as I’m resolved, I quietly recognize that my purpose is beyond that of forging peace for myself and my company.

If my life is filled with bloodshed, then I can never offer Peyton a future. I can never give her what she deserves.

I have to build a life, not break it.

If facing death is what it takes, then that’s what I’ll do.