If they’re talking about Jada aka possibly Dani, I agree with Barrons.

“She’s cold as ice.”

“You used to worry she’d get herself killed before she managed to grow up,” Barrons says. “Moot point now.”

“She’s fucking beautiful.”

Barrons studies him a moment then says, “Old enough for you.”

“That’s not why I watched over her.”

“Bullshit. We all saw the woman she could become. Just didn’t think she’d do it so quickly.”

“I wanted her to have— Ah, fuck, it doesn’t matter.”

“The childhood she missed. It’s gone. Adapt.”

Ryodan smiles faintly. “I loved watching her be young. Cocky. Swaggering around like she was invincible. She was supposed to have years of it.”

“She’s still swaggering. And feeling invincible.”

“She was healing. Until she and Mac fell out. It fucked with her head. I was going to be the concrete pillar that held up the roof while she redecorated her bunker. Give her time to choose who she wanted to be. Thought if I could keep her from having to make any brutal choices for a few years, she’d merge. Let her rebel against me rather than taking on the whole world. That opportunity is gone now.” Ryodan doesn’t say anything for a long moment. When he speaks again his voice is low, rough. “It’s as if my Dani died.”

I catch myself about to suck in an audible shocked breath. I may be unseeable but I’m not unhearable. The grief in his voice made me abruptly aware of my own. If Jada really is Dani, I’ll never again see that gamine grin, those sparkling eyes, listen as she mutilates the English language as only Dani can. The night I chased her through the Silver was goodbye, my last look at the teen I’d grown to love as a sister. He’s right, it is as if my Dani died. The fourteen-year-old is gone, just gone, never coming back.

“When do we abduct her?”

Ryodan carefully places the dark blade on the empty desk and looks up. “We don’t. It won’t work with ‘Jada.’ She’ll only get more remote, harder. Lor’s going to lose it when he sees her. He adored the kid.” He rubs his jaw and for a moment the only sound in the office is the scratch of rough beard against hand. I hold my breath, suddenly acutely aware of every noise my body might make. “Speaking of Lor, how the fuck am I supposed to get him back from being Pri-ya.”

Barrons says, “He’s not Pri-ya.”

“Mac said—”

“She lied,” Barrons says flatly.

Gee, could you rat me out a little quicker, Barrons?

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“There are a few things you didn’t tell me either. You knew Dani had an alter.”

“Mac knows too much,” Ryodan says, changing the subject.

“So does ‘Jada.’ It’s a different world now. Women are different. We evolve. As does our code.”

“Convenient for you. Tell that to Kasteo. Ah, sorry you stupid fuck, you chose the wrong millennium to try to keep the woman you wanted.”

“That’s not why we did what we did and you know it.”

“What I know, brother, is you break every goddamned rule for Mac.”

“Back at you, Ry. Difference is, I’ll help you do it.”

“Lor has never been Pri-ya.” Ryodan shakes his head in disgust. “The princess can’t turn us. Son of a bitch, Mac’s ass is—”

“Mine,” Barrons says flatly. “You will never go there. You have a problem with Mac, you work it out with me. I am her shield, I am her second fucking skin.”

Whuh. I don’t currently need one but it’s kind of a turn-on.

Growling, Ryodan pushes up and is out the door so fast, I freeze, uncertain who to stick with. Then Barrons makes my decision for me by taking off after Ryodan, and I have to run to keep up with them. I scowl down at my shoes. Though my boots have rubber soles, they’re still making noise. Fortunately, so are theirs.

I have no doubt where Ryodan’s going and I’m not missing it.

If Lor thinks this means he doesn’t still owe me a favor, he’s wrong. He got nearly the full two weeks he bargained for.

Barrons ratted him out. Not me.

26

“Under my thumb, that Siamese cat of a girl”

LOR

“You are, hands down, the hottest fuck I’ve ever had,” Jo tells me as she collapses back on the bed, laughing. Her short dark hair’s a mess, her makeup’s gone, she’s slick with sweat and kinda glassy-eyed from lack of sleep.

And one damned hot fuck herself.

“God, where do you men come from? Are there more like the nine of you out there?”

I’m not going to say it. I don’t say stupid things like, “Better than the boss?”

Her face tightens and she closes her eyes. I kick myself mentally. There’s not a whole lot going on up there right now so kicking it doesn’t take much. Like, one foot and two toes. Not even the big one.

Jo’s been in my bed for twenty-four hours straight, leaving only to eat and piss, before climbing back in and going at it again, one second a tigress spitting fire, the next snuggling up to me, a tiny slip of a woman under one of my arms, cheek on my chest like I’m not the bloodthirsty monster ancient cities called the Bonecrusher, who gorged on blood and death for breakfast and fueled their worst nightmares and lived by the motto “If you can’t fuck it, eat it, or use it for a weapon, kill it.”