"Leaving where?" Bianca turned with her blade still resting on her shoulder."Aisle fourteen." Vivian adjusted the cuffs of her jacket with precise, unhurried fingers. "Sixteen thousand tree saplings are not going to buy themselves. And unlike the rest of you, I have actual work to do that doesn't involve letting our husband get kidnapped in a grocery store.""He was ambushed by a black market broker," Riley snapped from the stairwell entrance. "It wasn't a grocery store mishap.""A black market broker." Vivian tilted her head, her thin smile carrying a cruelty so casual it felt like breathing. "In a public market. During daylight hours. While surrounded by five beastwomen who collectively possess enough power to level the building. And he still got taken." She looked at Kyle with those cold amber eyes. "You are a magnet for trouble, Kyle Cole. Fog corpses chase you. Brokers kidnap you. Rooftop monsters wear your healer's face. At some point, the common factor in all of your problems

The office lights buzzed overhead, casting everything in cold white. Frank Torres stood in the doorway with his gold rings frozen against the frame and his thick neck locked rigid, staring at the woman sitting in his chair like she owned the building and everything breathing inside it."You broke into my office." Torres's voice came out low and controlled, the kind of calm that covered something boiling underneath. "Through six locked doors and two armed checkpoints.""Your locks are decorative." Vivian did not stand. She stayed in his chair with her legs crossed, her amber eyes resting on his face with a patience that had nothing comfortable about it. "Your checkpoints are asleep. And your office smells like cheap cigars and stolen money.""You've got nerve, serpent." Torres stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The thin man tried to follow, but Torres held up one palm and the door shut in his face. "Coming back to the place that caged you. Most animals learn not to walk into

She was gone before Kyle could respond, her footsteps quick and light on the stairs, carrying the energy of a woman who had just been forgiven for something she had not yet forgiven herself for.Kyle sipped the milk. It was perfect. Warm, slightly sweet, with a hint of honey that Hailey must have taught her to add."She's been standing outside that door for twenty minutes," Scarlett said from beside him, her voice flat. "Holding the glass. Reheating it twice because it kept going cold while she worked up the courage to knock.""You watched her do that and didn't say anything?" Kyle looked at Scarlett."She needed to do it herself." Scarlett's golden eyes met his with their usual cold indifference. "People don't heal from guilt by being told it's okay. They heal by doing something about it.""That's surprisingly wise." Kyle took another sip."I am always wise." Scarlett folded her arms. "You are simply too busy being charming to notice.""Charming?" Kyle raised an eyebrow over the rim o

Riley stared at both of them for three more seconds, then looked at Scarlett. Scarlett sipped her coffee and said nothing, which was her way of saying everything.The front door opened again. Vivian walked in soaking wet, rain dripping from her hair, her clothes dark with water, and her hands completely empty. No saplings. No bags. No shopping cart. She left a trail of wet footprints across the entrance and into the hallway.Riley shot up from her chair. "Vivian! I just mopped that floor!""Then mop it again." Vivian walked past her without slowing, water pooling in her bootprints on the clean tiles."You are going to mop it." Riley grabbed a mop from the corner and shoved it toward Vivian's chest. "You walked in here dripping like a drowned rat across a floor I spent twenty minutes cleaning. You clean it up. Now.""I have better things to do." Vivian pushed the mop aside with one hand."You have nothing to do!" Riley's voice went up an octave. "You came back empty handed! Where are t

Vivian set the photograph on the table and placed both hands flat beside it. Her amber eyes locked on Kyle with the focus of a surgeon preparing to cut."I need to see your memories." Vivian's voice left no room for negotiation. "Seven days ago. Every minute, every face, every word. If you didn't make that transfer, then someone planted the code using your terminal pattern. Either way, the proof is in your head.""You want to reach into my brain?" Kyle took a step backward. "The same way you reached into a dying man's skull? Absolutely not. I saw what was left of Scarface after you read him, Vivian. A pile of bones and a bad smell.""Memory extraction doesn't kill you." Vivian's lip curled. "It requires physical contact with the temple and a cooperative subject. The target has to stop resisting. I'm asking you to open your mind, not offering you a funeral.""You're asking me to let the woman who scores negative seventy nine on my trust board crawl around inside my head like a tourist.