“You could.” Aden was far more stable than Vasic, than any of the other Arrows. “We’d stand behind you.” And no one—no one—had ever been able to withstand the combined might of the Arrow Squad.
“It’s not time.” Aden’s almond-shaped eyes swept over Ming’s body, and Vasic knew his fellow Arrow was noting every minor injury, every weakness. “We can’t show our hand. We’ve lost enough men that there are a couple of Councilors who might be able to gather the resources to get in our way.”
“Kaleb Krychek,” Vasic said, “would’ve made an excellent Arrow.”
“I checked his files.” Aden was nothing if not thorough. “The public ones and the private ones I was able to hack into. He was considered for Arrow training—until Santano Enrique decided to make him his protégé.”
Santano Enrique, as Vasic knew, had turned out to be a sociopathic killer. It was meant to be a well-kept secret, but Arrows were shadows, impossible to trace or see. It was their job to know the Net’s darkest truths. “Is he showing any signs of sociopathy?”
“None that I’ve been able to see—but he’s on the far end of the Silence continuum.”
“So are we.” He stared at Ming. “We might be able to work with Kaleb.”
“What makes him any different from Ming?” Aden asked. “He was an Arrow, and still he betrayed us.”
“Kaleb has blood on his hands,” Vasic replied, knowing too much about death himself, “but I haven’t been able to find one instance of him eliminating an individual who’d remained loyal to him.”
Aden was quiet for a long time. “How many Arrows do you think Ming had killed?”
“Too many.” In doing what he’d done, Ming had broken the cardinal rule of Arrows—it was the integrity of the Net, of Silence, that was of prime importance. Everything else, every other concern, was secondary. If getting rid of other Arrows had furthered that aim, the Arrows would’ve followed Ming to their graves. But Ming had done it for power. And lost his hold on the entire Squad.
CHAPTER 55
Lucas knew Dev had made his decision when the other man came out of Katya’s room that night. The Shine director’s face was haggard, his eyes blank with loss. “One more night,” he said, almost to himself. “Tomorrow morning . . .”
Knowing no words would ever be enough, Lucas watched silently as Sascha walked across the room to touch her hand to Dev’s heart.
The man stood there like stone, and eventually, Sascha turned away, tears streaking down her face. “He won’t let me help him,” she said, tumbling into Lucas’s arms.
“Some pain a man needs to feel.” He dropped a kiss on top of her hair, understanding Dev in a way not many men could. He’d almost lost Sascha once, would carry the terror of those moments in his heart forever.
Dev was still standing in place when Keenan and Noor ran past, laughing. Lucas saw them go into Katya’s room and was about to call them back when Dev shook his head. “Let them be. Katya would’ve loved seeing Noor this way.” Seeming to shake himself out of his shocked state, the other man looked around the room. “Is Connor here?”
“Outside with Dorian. Ashaya and your grandmother are making sandwiches in the kitchen. Your grandfather’s in the office.”
Nodding, Dev turned left, undoubtedly heading to talk to the doctor who would tomorrow note Katya’s official time of death. “Is this better, kitten?” he asked the woman in his arms. “That Dev has the chance to say good-bye?”
Sascha shook her head. “His heart is shattered, Lucas—I have a feeling Dev will never truly recover.” Her voice broke.
“Shh.” But Lucas, too, had to swallow a knot in his throat.
Dev came in from talking to Connor, wanting only to crawl into bed beside Katya and feel her heart beat for one last night. But when he entered the bedroom, what he saw made him come to a standstill in the doorway.
Noor lay curled up beside Katya, one tiny hand on Katya’s chest. Keenan lay on the other side, his hand over Noor’s.
“Dev, have you seen—” Ashaya came to a stop beside him. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll get Dorian to help carry them out.”
“No,” Dev found himself saying. “They’re just doing what the cats do—trying to heal her with touch because she’s hurting.”
Ashaya put her fingers on his arm. “They’re too little to understand that she can’t be fixed.”
“I think,” he said, “she’d have liked to know she spent her last night surrounded by hope.“
“I know you want to lie with her,” Ashaya began.
“I won’t sleep.” He needed to watch her as long as possible.