Page 572 of Lodestar

“Conor,” I appeased. “It’s all right.”

His nostrils flared but he backed off.

“That’s it, little boy. Let the women talk,” Temper taunted until D was pressing her knee onto her sternum and placing her whole weight on the other woman’s chest.

As his hands balled into fists at his sides, I stared at the woman who waswillingme to never have any peace. Who was never going to let my mom’s memory be at rest.

Jaw clenched, I stated, “Reinier is the reason I was enslaved.”

“If you say so,” Temper slurred.

I gritted my teeth. “Anton told me Aleks was searching for me.”

“Why seek out something you know where to find?”

That news had nausea swirling around my gut.

So, hehadknown my whereabouts.

“Why did you bring Bear into it?” Conor demanded.

When she didn’t answer, D moved aside and I grabbed her already broken nose, then twisted it.

“Don’t ask me how the old bastard did it, but the only reason he was on our radar was because he’d managed to infiltrate a meeting of our council. He thought they were Sparrows.” Shesniffed. “I was told to keep an eye on him, to help him, even. The Sparrows have been dying a long death, Star. Your input was minimal.” She swallowed. “Anton really sold me out?”

“He did.”

“I-I don’t believe you.”

Not willing to waste time on this, I opened the conversation with Anton, turned my phone so she could see the screen, and let her read the message thread.

Her eyes widened. “You faked that!”

“Why the hell would I?”

“You’re just not as important as you like to think you are,” D rumbled.

Chuckling in agreement, I informed her, “Cin’s right. You’re expendable.”

“He made me the deputy director of the CIA!”

“And? Clearly, he’s got someone else ready to jump into the position. You’re nothing to him, Temper. You mean dick to him.”

“SHUT UP!” she screamed, surging upward, fists raised.

I saw her coming from a mile away. So did Conor. He was there first. He grabbed a hold of her hair again, slammed her face into the floor, and didn’t stop until she was a bloodied mess.

“Conor,” I soothed. “Let her go.”

His face was red with exertion, but he stopped at my request. Breathing heavily, he retreated.

Conor, I knew, was slow to commit violence unless someone had hurt a person he loved.

If I left him alone with her, I knew Temper would die at his hands today.

Torture wasn’t everyone’s idea of a love language, but it was mine.

Temper rolled to the side and spat out blood-stained saliva. “You won’t kill me. You can’t. I’m one of you.”

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