Page 125 of Scarred Angel

“One piece of what?”

She exhales. “The orders come from higher, Valentina. From the ones who built this system in the first place.”

I catch her elbow before she crosses the threshold. “Aunt Leni, is the protocol active? Are we in danger?”

Her expression loosens, and she squeezes my arm. “According to my connections, no. Not yet.”

Not yet. But probably soon. Those are the words that are left hanging between us. I hear them loud and clear.

Forty-Nine

VALENTINA

Astrange chill bleeds into my palm as I press it against the window glass. It travels up my arm, settling in my spine, and I know it has nothing to do with the cold. I’ve been replaying my conversation with Aunt Leni over and over, trying to process the weight of what I now know.

Still, in all the chaos, everything makes sense.

The way we were raised, the skills drilled into us, the training…the desensitization to death and violence. I can see it all so clearly now.

What kind of parent prepares their child for war before they can even spell the word?

Mine. And Remi’s and Giovanni’s. Matteo’s. Even baby Zara.

They weren’t trying to raise soldiers or little psychopaths. They were preparing us for a world that would one day come to collect…todeleteus.

Hermes must have sensed my growing stress. I hadn’t even noticed when he padded into the living room and curled up beside me. Such a good boy, always by my side. I steady my bowl of Fruit Loops in one hand and scratch behind his ears.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?”

He lets out a low whine and settles at my feet, his head resting on my toes.

“What are you doing up, beautiful?”

Maksim’s voice is thick with sleep in my ear as his arms slide around me from behind. The warmth of his body seeps into mine, and just like that, the world feels a little less heavy.

“A little midnight snack,” I say, melting into his chest. “But I could ask you the same.”

“Had a strange dream I can’t really remember. Woke up, reached for you, and you were gone.”

Maksim being restless in his sleep is nothing new. Most nights, I hear the soft grunts, the light movements. He usually settles once he knows I’m there. And now I feel like an asshole for not being.

I set my bowl down on the windowsill and turn in his arms. Hermes groans and pushes to his feet, walking off like we’re disturbing his peace. He’s taken to Maksim so well these last few days, and honestly, I couldn’t be happier about it.

“Let’s go back to bed,” I murmur, rising on my toes to kiss him.

“Mm, sweet,” he replies, deepening the kiss, savoring the sugary taste of cereal still clinging to my lips. “Are these the ones with marshmallows?”

I laugh, and in a flash, my feet leave the floor. And I’m in my favorite place. His arms.

We move into the bedroom, only this time he doesn’t toss me onto the mattress. He sets me down gently and sits beside me.

“I have to go brush all this high-fructose corn syrup out of my teeth.”

I start to slide off the bed, but his hand lands on my thigh, stilling me. Then his fingers tip my chin until I meet his eyes.

“I know today was…a lot. And I know you’re worried. But you don’t have to be. I already told you that I’d paint these streets red before I let anything happen to you.”

I hook my fingers into his shirt and pull him close. “I know. And know that I’d do the same for you.”