Page 57 of War Games

I pause and glance back. “Sorry?”

“Siren,” she confirms. “I’ve been watching her, and she loves those two blades she stole from you. She’s going to be upset that she lost them in the fire.”

I nod in understanding. I did notice that she coveted those blades, and because of how much she loves them, I didn’t botherto try to get them back. To be honest, I figured at the start that after she was killed, I would take them back, along with all the identities she’d collected, but now, I want her to keep them. They suit her, and as for those blades, there’s plenty more where they came from.

“I’ll handle it,” I tell her, appreciating this kid more with every conversation we have. I go to walk away again before turning back one last time. “Listen, kid,” I say, holding her attention. “You did good today. You were brave. Not many would have run into that fire to save someone they barely knew. You should be proud of yourself.”

Shadow nods. “She showed me kindness when she didn’t need to. Not many people would go out of their way to help someone like that. I like her. I don’t have people in my life who actually . . . care enough to look out for me. I didn’t want to lose that.”

“You’re a good kid, Shadow,” I tell her. “You’ll always have a place here with us.”

She offers me a small, unsure smile, and with that, I turn and make my way down the hall, determined to spend every last second I can at Siren’s side. Then, as I step over the threshold into my bedroom and lay down beside Siren, I vow to myself that no matter what, someone will pay for what happened tonight, and when they do, they’re going to curse the day they ever laid eyes on my girl.

21

SIREN

As I wake in the warmth of two strong arms, I try to push past the blanket of grogginess that makes my body feel heavy. I instantly melt into Reaper’s hold as I peel my eyes open to a new day. My head aches, my lungs ache, and my chest . . . holy fuck. But nothing matters more than the fact that I’m alive and in his arms.

The memories of my night assault my mind, and despite the distraction of being in Reaper’s orbit, I can’t make them fade away.

In my line of work, I’ve had more than enough close calls. I can’t even count on one hand how many times I’ve been shot. My body is practically a road map full of scars telling the story of the hell I’ve endured over the past ten years, but last night was different. I’ve never felt fear like that, never felt my lungs burning from the inside out. The heat inside that suite was like nothing I’ve ever known, and while I could empathize with Eagle’s trauma, now I understand it.

“You good, baby?”

I clear my throat, cringing at the immediate burn. “I thought I told you that I’m not your baby.”

Reaper scoffs, and in the one sound, it’s clear as day that he has no intention to stop using that goddamn word. “How’re you feeling?” he asks, sitting up and reaching for a glass of water and painkillers.

A smile pulls at my lips, loving that he was thoughtful enough to have that prepared for me, and as he holds them out toward me, I do what I can to sit up. “Thanks,” I say. “ I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Nothing quite like being burned alive.”

I swallow the little painkillers, cringing as the pills work their way down my hoarse throat. “You know me,” I mutter. “I’m all about experiencing everything life has to offer, but this particular experience . . . I don’t know. I don’t recommend it. Zero out of five.”

A forced smile pulls at Reaper’s lips, and it’s clear he’s trying to make me feel better about my situation, but there’s no sugarcoating this shit. It is what it is, and the only way past it is to give it time . . . and to slit Gasoline’s throat. I’m sure that will have a wonderful healing effect on my soul.

Reaper lays back down, stretching his arm out behind my head and offering me a place to lay, which I take without hesitation. “I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there to pull me out,” I tell him, getting comfortable against his chest, owing him my whole damn life.

“It wasn’t me,” he murmurs as his fingers brush across my skin. “Shadow was the one who pulled you out. Nearly fucking killed her too, but she wasn’t giving up.”

“What?” I breathe, pushing up against his wide chest and meeting his haunted stare. “Shadow?”

Reaper nods. “She beat me there and didn’t hesitate racing in after you. I don’t know how it went or what happened in there,but when I arrived, she was dragging your lifeless body out the back. She didn’t give up until I got there, and the minute I had you, she collapsed in the grass.”

“Fuck,” I say, my heart starting to race as a million different emotions overwhelm me, remembering the moment a shadow cut through the thick smoke. I was delirious and couldn’t breathe or even scream anymore, but I remember hands pulling at me. I assumed they belonged to Reaper, but it wasn’t him. Shadow risked her life to save me, and I don’t know how to feel about that. Of course I’m so grateful for her sacrifice, but she’s just a child and should never be put in a position where she has to make the decision to risk her own life for someone else’s. “We need to find her. She could be hurt.”

“She’s here,” he tells me. “She’s sleeping in one of the bedrooms and has no immediate plans to leave. She’s good. Just a few small burns, nothing that can’t be fixed with a cool compress and a first aid kit.”

“But—” I let out a heavy breath, never having been so conflicted in my life. “Why would she do that?”

“For the same reason you cook her a meal every night. She cares and wants you to be okay.”

I swallow over the lump forming in my throat and lower myself back against Reaper’s chest, only now just realizing how dirty I am. I’m covered in soot and ash with grass stains across my lower half, probably from where Shadow dragged me. My skin is burned, but from what I can tell, it’s nothing too substantial, and as for my wrists, they’re going to need a bit more attention.

I can’t stop thinking about Shadow fast asleep somewhere deep inside this home or the fact that my suite no longer exists. I can’t help but glance up at Reaper, meeting his hooded stare. “I suppose you’re keeping me hostage here for the foreseeable future.”

He scoffs, not even needing to answer, and I roll my eyes, realizing he has absolutely no intention of letting me leave. “We’re like some kind of dysfunctional family,” I tell him, the words sending a wave of warmth soaring through my chest, making me realize that I wouldn’t have it any other way. Finding a family wasn’t exactly on my bingo card during War Games, but now that we somewhat resemble it, I can’t fathom the idea of losing it.

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