Page 169 of Dukes of Peril

And then Lavinia tips her head back, letting out an ear-splitting victory cry. Both of her fists thrust into the air, and I’m speechless as I watch the joy transform her face. That, plus the shock of watching all the gears turn and tick, is why I almost don’t catch her when she launches herself into my arms, barking out a jubilant laugh.

“We did it!” Grabbing my face, she plants a hard, aggressive kiss to my lips, springing back with a beaming smile. Sy and Remy look just as floored, and maybe it’s a testament to the complete fuckery of our tenure as Dukes that it takes a moment for us to begin celebrating too.

“Holy shit,” Sy says, taking in the moving clock parts. He palms his forehead as he watches. “It is working, isn’t it?”

Lavinia excitedly suggests, “Let’s go downstairs to–”

From one breath to the next, the air around us suddenly explodes.

We all drop to the floor, Sy diving to cover Lavinia as we clap our hands over our ears. All I can think about are hidden bombs and failsafes. I see the same panic cross Remy’s eyes as he crawls toward us.

But the longer we brace for it, the more we realize this isn’t an explosion.

It’s the goddamnbells.

Sy’s hands drag slowly from Lavinia’s head. “Oh,” he mouths, looking upward with a bloodless face. “Oh, hell no.Fuckno!”

Remy belts out a relieved laugh, but I’ve got to agree with my brother. Yelling over thebongof the chime, I ask, “We’re supposed to sleep beneath that thing?”

Lavinia is absolutely awestruck, though. She climbs slowly to her feet, gaping up toward the noise. I know where she’s going before her feet even move, and I groan as I follow her, Remy and Sy not too far behind.

If I thought the bells were loud in the clock room, then they’re even worse when we climb out onto the belfry, a gust of air whipping her blue hair around her face. Sy sticks his fingers into his ears and sends the bells above us a sharp glare, but Remy and Lavinia look absolutely fucking captivated.

“Holy shit,” I hear Remy yell over the noise. “Vinny, you fucking did it!”

She turns to say something to him, eyes alight with wonder, but I’ll never know what it is. Her gaze drops to the streets below, and I don’t understand at first what the slack, shocked look on her face is meant for.

And then I turn to look, too.

Below us, the streets are growing speckled with people.

They spill out from warehouses and buildings, arms raised as they point upward, to where the four of us are standing. We can’t hear them–we can hardly even make out their expressions, they’re so far down–but I can imagine well enough what they’re thinking, because I’m thinking it, too.

One day, at 7:32, West End stopped breathing. For decades it’s been here, quiet and solemn and so fucking angry about it that we grew into a group of desperate fists.

Today, we have a heartbeat again.

I sling my arm around Lavinia’s shoulders as she stares out over them. The lost people. The broken people. The fighters. People like us. Pressing a kiss to her temple, I tell her, “I love you so fucking much, Little Bird.”

There’s no way she can hear me over the bell chimes, but she still turns to give me a proud, fierce smile. “I love you, too.”

Those words will never get old. I couldn’t have predicted it two years ago, when a hurt, terrified girl slammed the sole of her boot into my jaw and made an imprint on my soul. I couldn’t have known during all those long nights in the old Crane Motor Inn. I didn’t even realize it when I placed the dominoes that would fall to make her my Duchess.

Little birds, striking vipers, and angry bears…

These are all wild, resilient things.

And a cage could never hold her heart.

Epilogue

Lavinia

“Well, this is…”A snowball whizzes past Sy’s ear, smashing into the wall behind him.

Nick reaches for his gun.

“Seriously?” Sy’s look is a characteristic mixture of deadly and exasperated. He holds out his hand. “I specifically said no firearms.”

---