Page 39 of The Saint

Marcus eventually came back to me. “You say you won’t intervene on Adrien’s behalf.”

“Yes.”

“Then bring him to us, and all will be forgiven.”

A sarcastic smirk crept over my lips. “I already said I don’t manage the conflicts among organizations. That goes both ways. This is your dirty work—so you handle it.”

Marcus didn’t hide his disappointment. “He has the Eye of the Seine. The most prized relic of the French Republic. He must be stopped.”

“Then stop him,” I said. “My peace offering to you is this—peace. I should destroy all of you because you were aware of Oscar’s plan, but I’ve chosen to pardon your crimes. Do the same for me, or you’ll have two enemies to fight—both Adrien and me. What will you decide?”

Marcus didn’t need to confer with the others this time. Something about my words finally got through to him. “As long as you don’t intervene in our hit on Adrien, then we will have peace, Butcher.”

“Good,” I snapped. “We’ve both got shit to do, so let’s move on.”

“What’d they say?” Luca said when he picked up my call.

I walked out of the cavern with the phone pressed to my ear, the homeless and weirdos watching me walk by. None of them was stupid enough to cross me. “A lot of bullshit. But I got them to get over it.”

“And you believe them?”

“They know they don’t have a shot without the element of surprise.” I took the stairs to the next level and saw the Seine visible ahead, the lights reflecting off the dark water. “And evenwith the peace established, they know I’ll watch them for the next six months.”

“Sounds like Godric did you a favor, then.”

He did.

“Did you guys talk about anything else? Because it seems a little random that he gave you that information. Almost feels like a trap.”

I didn’t tell him, but I wasn’t sure why. “No, we didn’t.”

Luca didn’t press it. “At least that’s done.”

I made it to the surface and headed up the stairs to the street. “They are going after Adrien.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t done it already.”

“I must have been their focus,” I said. “They said I’m not to intervene.”

“To be fair, it’s not your problem.”

“I know it’s not.” But the guilt still gnawed at me like I’d done something wrong.

“I can tell it bothers you just by the sound of your voice.”

I stopped at the street, staring at the lampposts next to the Seine that stretched out into the distance. I was right across from the Louvre, the building bright in the light. Fleur’s old apartment was nearby. I wondered if they’d already found a new tenant to take her spot. “I’m not sure if I should tell her.”

“You know you’re going to.”

“I said I wouldn’t intervene.”

“Then hopefully she doesn’t ask you to.”

It was seven in the morning when I got home.

She was still asleep in one of my t-shirts, the blankets tugged all the way to her side of the bed because I wasn’t there to keep her warm. I stared at her for a long second before I changed into my workout clothes and hit the gym, doing my cardio first before I hit the weights hard.

I watched the sun rise in the reflection in the mirror on the wall, watching it burn through the open windows because they didn’t have curtains to block out the light. I preferred to work out at the start of my day rather than the end, but when I woke up, Fleur was eager to spend time with me, and it felt wrong to leave her just to get in some cardio. I was dead tired after being up all night, but it was better to do it now than try to fit it in later.

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