Page 69 of The Girl Who Should Be Dead

And now he never would again.

Gurlien flicks his sleeves back down, buttoning the cuffs around his wrists, right as both of their phones buzz.

Ambra freezes and Gurlien’s brown eyes widen, almostimperceptibly, before he slowly reaches for his phone and Ambra pulls hers out of her pocket.

It’s a group text, with her, Gurlien, Maison, and Chloe.

MAISON (3:02 PM): They know about Johnsin.

“How would he know?” Ambra asks, suspicious. “Isn’t he just as out of the loop as you?”

GURLIEN (3:03 PM): Thank you for the intel.

CHLOE (3:04 PM): Jose has a report that they’re circling some forensic mages in Miami, flying them in from Washington.

“That’s not good,” Gurlien murmurs, then gives Ambra a grim look, his lips flattening. “So they’ll know about you.”

Instinctive, she reaches a hand up to the leash, where there’ve been no traces of attempts, nothing, and her pulse flutters in her neck. Careful, she steps backwards, back into the concurrent circles of progressively more complex wards, the hair on the side of her scalp prickling, until she sits down on the overlarge bed in the center.

Another buzz of the phone, and even though it’s quiet, she flinches.

MAISON (3:06 PM): Someone sent me a query to help consult, someone who isn’t kept in the know.

“They want demon experts,” Gurlien mutters grimly, then refills two glasses of water, carrying them over to the bedside table.

Ambra’s heart pounds.

She knew this would happen, that they would discover Johnsin. That someone would put it together, would see the incredibly obvious trail of clues.

And she left them intentionally. Left them as a warning.

And despite that, she shivers in fear.

Gurlien drops off the water, then brings over one of theboxes of protein bars and a bag of chips that Ambra had bought specifically because the word spicy was written all over them.

“Is this the safest place in the apartment?” he asks, even though she had said so many times. Even though he had watched her put the protections down.

She nods, jerky.

“Then we’ll stay here,” he replies grimly, before going back to the bookshelves, pulling out some tomes, and grabbing the extension cord and her phone charger. “See if they make some moves, decide safety after a few hours.”

It’s another bit of kindness.

“You can be 45 meters outside of it,” Ambra says, almost automatically.

“I probably will be at some point,” he says, before flopping down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m tired from the practice and all the everything, so I’m staying here.”

She can’t tell if he’s indulging her or if he actually needs rest, but still, the closeness is…nice.

Carefully, she lays down on the other side of the bed, the heart hammering hard.

Hours pass,as Gurlien reads, naps, and reads again, but Ambra just lays still, the adrenaline never leaving her limbs, before…there.

The leash flexes, and Gurlien drops the pen he was jotting notes with, grabbing at his wrist.

Saying nothing, Ambra just nods, a lump in her throat.

“Okay,” he whispers, then weaves the leash through his fingers, sending a shiver down Ambra’s spine.

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