Page 38 of Azrael

I quickly picked it up, but not before Stripes noticed.His hand covered mine for a brief moment, his eyes meeting mine with an understanding that made my throat tighten.

“It’s not a weakness to care for something worth protecting,” he said quietly, his accent thicker with emotion.“Is a reason to fight better, yes?”

I didn’t answer, just pressed my lips together and slipped the photo into my inner pocket.The weight of it against my chest felt suddenly significant, like armor over my heart.I glanced away, not wanting the others to read whatever might be showing on my face.The brotherhood understood revenge, understood loyalty, understood fighting for the club.What they might not understand was the uncomfortable truth I was barely admitting to myself -- that somewhere along the line, Zara Colton had become more than just a woman who needed help.She’d become something I couldn’t define but couldn’t ignore.

We filed out of Church in near silence, boots heavy on the worn floorboards.This hallway had seen generations of Devil’s Boneyard business, the walls themselves soaked in secrets and blood oaths.Tonight, they’d witnessed another.

The heavy door thudded shut behind us with a finality that sent a chill down my spine.That sound marked the official beginning of whatever was coming next.It would end with another sound: either the celebration of victory or the silence of men who wouldn’t be coming home.

“You good with this?”Phantom asked, falling into step beside me as we moved toward the main room of the clubhouse.His frame blocked most of the hallway, forcing others to slide past him along the wall.

“With what part?”I asked, knowing exactly what he meant but playing for time.

He gave me a sideways look that said he wasn’t buying it.“With bringing the club into your personal shit.With going halfway around the world for a woman you don’t know and another you seem to know better than you’re letting on.I’d thought you’d claimed her out of a sense of duty.Now I’m thinking I was wrong.”

I stopped walking, turned to face him.“You questioning the President’s decision?”

“Fuck no,” he replied without hesitation.“I’m asking my brother if his head’s on straight before we roll into something that could get us all killed.”

The rest of the men continued past us, giving us space for what they recognized as a necessary conversation.In the dim light, Phantom’s face was all hard angles and shadow, but his eyes held genuine concern beneath the challenge.

“My head’s straight,” I told him, meeting his gaze steadily.“This is club business with personal stakes.No different than when we protected Grey, Meg, or any of the other women here.”

He considered this, then nodded slowly.“Just making sure.Because the way you looked at that picture just now… that’s the look of a man with something to lose.”

I didn’t confirm or deny it.Instead, I clapped him on the shoulder and moved past him.“We all have something to lose, brother.That’s why we win.”

The main room had transformed in the time we’d been meeting.The Prospect had set out bottles of whiskey and glasses on the bar, anticipating the need for liquid courage or comfort.A few of the old ladies had arrived, sensing something was happening.They hovered at the edges of the room, exchanging worried glances but knowing better than to ask questions until they were brought into the circle of knowledge.Still no club pussy in sight, although that was a good thing right now.Couldn’t always trust them, no matter how many checks we ran.

I grabbed a bottle and a glass, avoiding the concerned looks.I needed to get back to my place, needed to figure out what I was going to tell Zara.The thought of facing her made my stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with fear of danger and everything to do with fear of her reaction.

What would I say?Your mother has been kidnapped by her controlling brother and taken to the Middle East.I’m going to get her back with a bunch of bikers and Russian mobsters.Wait here and don’t worry.Yeah, that would go over well.

“Keep your dick in your pants and your head in the game,” Ripper muttered as he passed, reading me too easily for comfort.“Save the domestic drama for after we get back.”

I flipped him off without looking, but he had a point.Whatever was happening between Zara and me -- or not happening -- had to take a back seat to the mission.Getting Mazida back safe was the priority, not sorting out my inconvenient feelings for her daughter.

I downed my whiskey in one swallow, letting the burn center me.As I set the glass down, I caught Charming watching me from across the room.He beckoned me over with a slight tilt of his head.

“You’ll need to tell her tonight,” he said without preamble when I reached him.“We’re moving fast on this.Stripes is already on the phone with his contacts.We’ll have transport arranged by day after tomorrow.”

“I know,” I replied, glancing toward the door.“I’m heading back now.”

He studied me for a moment.“She’s not coming, Azrael.Not negotiable.I need your word on that.”

“You have it,” I said automatically, though I already knew it wouldn’t be that simple.“But she’s not going to like it.”

“She doesn’t have to like it.She just has to accept it.”His tone softened slightly.“This isn’t her fight.”

“It’s her mother,” I pointed out.

“And it’s my club I’m risking,” he countered.“My brothers I’m sending into unknown territory.If she came along and something happened to her, how would that affect the mission or you?”

The question hit too close to home, and I didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t reveal more than I wanted to.Instead, I just nodded my understanding.

“I’ll handle it,” I assured him.“She stays here.”

Charming seemed satisfied with that, clasping my shoulder briefly before moving away to speak with Doc.I took it as my dismissal and headed for the door, pausing only to exchange a few words with Stripes, who was barking orders in Russian into his phone.

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