“He would kill you.”

“In a New York minute. Like that,” he said, snapped his fingers. “He doesn’t value life, unless it’s his own. Me, I’d just be dead—not that I’d be happy about it. But you, especially you, Riley, and Doyle, it would be worse for you.”

“How for Doyle? He’s an immortal.”

“That’s just the point.” Sawyer gestured, and they headed toward the next spot. “He can’t die, but he can feel pain. Malmon could and would give him pain for years.”

“I know there is cruelty.”

“But you don’t understand it.”

“I never want to. But I understand, even though it’s hard, we have to stop these men just as we stopped her creatures. We protect each other, and the stars. It’s our duty. You said you don’t want to take a life, but would to protect others.”

“That’s right.”

“And our others, I know, would do the same. I can’t do less. Let me place the next vial.”

Slowly, they worked their way down, with the breathtaking view spread before them. The sun splashed onto the sea, shimmered on white rock, and baked the green.

At one point Sawyer crouched down, then lay on his belly.

“Doyle had it right, this is the perfect sniper’s nest.” When Annika lay beside him, he pointed. “See? That’s our villa.”

“Yes, yes, I see. It’s still a very long way.”

“They’ll have a scope, a high-powered rifle, and you can bet a lot of skill. Here.” He scooted back, squatted to take a pair of small field glasses out of his pack. “Look through these.”

She studied them a moment, then put them up to her eyes. Gasped and jolted. “Oh! Everything jumped close.” She lowered them. “But nothing moved.”

“Binoculars—it’s the lenses, the special glass. It— Easiest to say magnifies. A sniper would have something like this, something called a scope, attached to the rifle.”

“And it would bring us close,” she murmured as she looked through the glasses again. “I see. A miraculous tool used for evil.”

“In this case, yeah.”

“Then we place a vial here.”

Once they had, she turned to him, rose up to kiss him. “This is the good, to balance the bad.”

“Then let’s make it even better.”

He drew her in, took the kiss slow, quiet, deep. And wondered how he managed to go even an hour without having her pressed against him.

“You two really need to get a room.” Riley stood above them, hands on her hips.

“We’re weighing the scales on the good side,” Sawyer told her.

“Whatever. Did you cover it down to there?”

“Every mark. Take a look here.”

Quick, surefooted, she picked her way down, then crouched as Sawyer did.

“Well, shit.” Like he had, she stretched onto her belly. “You’ve got to give it to Doyle. This is prime for a nest. Get yourself an M24 or an—”

“AS-50,” Doyle said and jumped lightly down beside them.

Riley looked over her shoulder. “Next on my list.”

He got down, shoulder to shoulder with her, nodded. “Yeah, cover, stability, scope, and range. It’s all right here.”

“Good as a clock tower,” Riley agreed. “We walk outside, bang and bang. Ducks in a pond, all six.”

“Well, five out of six.”

“Right. You’d quack again.”

“They would overpower him—one man against many.” Sick at the thought, Annika looked down at Doyle. “And give him pain, endlessly. We can’t allow it.”

“Won’t,” Riley corrected. “You got any left?”

Sawyer patted the satchel. “Three.”

“And you?” She tapped Doyle with her elbow as she pushed up. “Any more spots strike you as bomb-worthy?”

“One or two.”

“Then we’ll cover it.” She wiggled her fingers for the bag. “Here come Sash and Bran. The four of you go on. We’ll finish this off and catch up. Then I believe it’s margarita time.”

“Not Bellini?”

Riley shook her head at Annika. “After a climb like this? It’s got to be the margarita. You know what’s good with margaritas after climbing up and in the hills for a few hours setting traps for bad guys? Salsa.”

“Got you covered,” Sawyer told her.

By the time they got back to the villa, Annika wanted the pool, the comfort of the water. Since Sasha and Sawyer had already started to chop and slice, she ran upstairs, changed into one of her new suits and the wrap that flowed over it.

When she came out, Doyle stood on the far side of the pool, looking up at the hills. He wore sunglasses and had a hand resting on the hilt of the knife in his belt.

He looked like a warrior, strong and fit and ready to face whatever came.

“You don’t have the beer.”

“I’ll get to it.”

“You look up where we’ve just been because you worry. Did you miss something important? Will all we did be for nothing? You worry we’ll be killed, in spite of all the work and planning. We won’t.”

“Optimism’s part of your charm, Gorgeous.”

“We won’t,” she repeated and walked over to him. “But you’ve seen more death than anyone should. An immortal faces death every day, but never his own. The losses, like the men who fell before you, are always there.”