Page 103 of Oathbreaker

Once I get her settled—and still sleeping—I sit on the edge of Veronica’s bed. She stares out the window, her face blank.

“Rons,” I say softly.

After a moment, she says, “Hm?” almost as if it took a second for my voice to register.

When she looks at me, I ask her again. “Where is James?”

For the entire time we’ve been in the hospital, he hasn’t shown. He hasn’t called. I grab Veronica’s hand, and she stares at our entwined fingers.

She sighs once.

Twice.

And then a sob. Clasping her free hand over her mouth, she breathes deeply to compose herself.

Then she says, “James has decided we need to divorce.” The composure with which she utters these words is astounding.

Icy numbness rushes through me. “When did this happen?” I ask.

“Shortly before you went...missing.” She inhales again, and it sounds like she’s having to remind herself to inhale and exhale.

“Two questions,” I say. “Then I want you to rest, okay?” She nods her head.

“Is he coming back to see his daughter?”

Inhale. Exhale. She shakes her head no.

“Do you need help?”

Inhale. Exhale. She nods her head yes.

“Okay,” I reply, then pull her into my arms as she breaks down in total silence, unwilling to wake her sleeping newborn with her devastation.

TWENTY-TWO

HUNTER

Idon’t want to bring Winter to Misha Hroshko’s home. First, because it’s been a month since we moved Veronica into Amelia Manor, and she hasn’t wanted to leave Veronica’s side.

Or Summer’s. Not that anyone can blame her. The whole house, even August, adores the baby. Winter’s taken more middle-of-the-night feedings than is reasonable, even moving a baby monitor into our room.

When I objected, she said, “You’re the one who’s all gung-ho about having a baby. Consider it real-world practice.” She rolled over and went to sleep. Cranky.

The other reason is that while Misha’s wife, Luna, has been in the Project for weeks, I have no idea what her progress has been outside the small updates Leo gives me.

Maybe she’s better now. Otherwise, I very well may be walking into my murder.

Winter’s hand is warm against mine. We’re in the back of the G-wagon, but this time, a battalion of armored cars surround us as an escort. She decided to leave Kitty behind to watch over Veronica and Summer. The truth is that Veronica relies on Kitty to keep her grounded more than Winter does these days, so instead of bringing him along, she decided he’d be more useful at home.

Having fifteen guards with us for a simple dinner is probably overkill, but I know that dinner with Misha Hroshko will be anything but simple.

Winter’s leg starts to shake. “Don’t be nervous, Sunbeam,” I say, putting my hand on her thigh.

She inhales and exhales to the count of three. She looks stunning tonight. The scar over her eye is faint, barely noticeable without makeup. With her face made up, I can’t see it at all.

She wears a black long-sleeved jumpsuit with a low-cut V-neck. Her ample breasts sit nicely in the bodice, and I want to lick the space between them where a thin gold chain hangs down. Also, she’s wearing the butt plug I put inside her before we left the house. It’s remote-controlled and vibrates, and fuck if my Sunbeam didn’t nearly drool when I presented it to her.

Putting it inside her after I ate her out on our bathroom counter is the highlight of the evening.

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