“I was tracking a lead. Thought I’d handle the copycat killer while you two finished the rest. But it went dead.” Literally, I think. “Ran out of options after that.”

In my defense, it’s all true.

I was tracking Colin—he was my only real lead when it came to finding information about who is stealing my father’s spotlight. They don’t have to know that slaying other serial killers is a biannual ritual of mine. That the existence of this wannabe is a direct insult to all I do.

They also don’t need to know I had to come back because Lyra snapped and I had to make sure the security footage in the grocery store was cleared. Explaining to them something I can’t explain to myself feels unnecessary.

It’s my secret to keep. They all have them. I’m allowed to keep a few things to myself.

“Would’ve been nice to know you were alive,” Rook mumbles, probably assuming that’s all they’ll get from me in terms of this subject.

“What do you want, Rook?” I snap. “An apology?”

He pinches the blunt between his fingertips tightly, grinding his jaw before he breaks.

About time. He was being far too calm to be considered normal.

“You’re my brother. I hate you—I hate you so fucking much, but you’re my brother,” he hisses, flashing the coin tattoo on his inner bicep that mirrors the only one I own. The same one Alistair and Silas bear. “You’re his brother! Silas is locked in a goddamn ward. I buried someone I love without you and thought you’d be next. I’m not losing any more of you, regardless of your frigid personality.”

Brother.

I’ve been labeled by other people’s names my entire life.

Killer. Psycho. Son.

Butbrotherhadn’t been one.

“I—”

A knock at the door steals my voice, even though I’m not even sure what I was about to say. I turn to look over my shoulder, seeing a head of red hair popping in.

“Bad timing?”

“Perfect as always, TG,” Rook breathes, like he hadn’t been able to until she was around. “Come here, baby.”

Sage glances around the room sharply before walking fully inside with two more people in tow. She sinks into Rook’s side calmly while Briar has nothing better to do than open her mouth.

“Ouch,” she says with a bit of a smirk. “You look like you could use this.”

A frozen ice bag flies from her hands and lands against my chest, and I’m quick to grab it so it doesn’t fall. They very well could’ve been eavesdropping, and that’s how she’d known her boyfriend had socked me in the jaw, or maybe she knows him better than I thought.

Briar holds another thing of ice, carefully placing it against Alistair’s knuckles with a shake of her head. But he simply lays his lips against her forehead in thanks.

Lyra is the last girl inside, still standing behind me and tucked against the door. I shift so that my entire body is in front of her, shielding her behind my frame.

I can feel the anger rolling off her small body in waves. It’s probably silly of me to stand with my back to someone so prone to stabbing men out of emotion.

“Glad you’re not dead,” Sage says to me. “Would’ve only been me giving Rook shit, and that’s incredibly boring.”

“Well, now that he’s alive, we need to find somewhere to put him. He can’t stay at any of our places; it’s risky having him here now. They know we’d hide him.”

“Which is why I should’ve stayed dead a little longer,” I say to Alistair, already knowing this would be an issue.

“You’re richer than God. Can’t you buy a place? Fly out of the country?” Briar adds, as if it were that easy.

“All I can use is the cash I got from my grandfather’s safe when I left. Using my credit cards, trying my passport, anything short of under a rock will have Odette Marshall arresting me on national television.”

“So we can—”