Page 82 of Dukes of Peril

It may be the most coherent thing I’ve ever heard Remy say in his life, but he’s right. Our weaknesses will be our downfall. Not just the Dukes, but us—the four of us. Sy’s weakness is the reason he hurt her. Mine was the reason I sent her back to her father.

But Lavinia’s may be the worst, because anyone can use it against her, and I won’t let that happen.

Not even if I have to go down stopping it.

A tear runs down her face and Remy thumbs it away. “You’re right,” she says, exhaling slowly, evenly. “You’re absolutely right.”

She steps past me and walks right in, head bowed.

Sharing a nervous glance with Remy, I follow her, stepping into the small box. Immediately, I can feel the waves of panic rolling off her. It’s an energy that buzzes like a warning, an animal caged, her body strung so tight that she flinches at the mere sound of my foot touching the metal. The pink in her cheeks from a moment before is gone, although it seems to have traveled down her throat in red streaks. Tears well in her eyes and she gulps for air.

“What if I can’t do this?” she whispers, hands latching onto my chest.

“Hey.” I smooth down her hair, tucking her gingerly into my chest. “Everything is fine. I’m here. Remy is a few feet away,” I nod out the open door, “and Sy’s waiting downstairs for you. Do you want to go to him?”

In all my life, I’ll never comprehend how my brother became anyone’s pillar of comfort, but I know that’s what he is to her. Warmth and reassurance. Strength and security.

She nods, but her throat bobs as she tries to catch her breath. “What if the lights go off? What if we can’t get the door back open? What if—”

Her panic is making me panic, andfuck, I’m not even afraid of elevators, but she kind of has a point about this tower being older than dirt. I glance at Remy. “Dude—”

He narrows his eyes at me and mouths, “Distract her!”

“Baby,” I say, running my hands down her back, “none of those things are going to happen.”

“But—”

I cut her off with a kiss that’s gentle, less demanding than usual. She’s still crying, and I’ve got to give her the chance to breathe.

Her jaw relaxes, and I feel the muscles in her back ease.

“Better?” I ask.

Her eyes flutter open, eyelashes wet. “Yes.”

Searching her eyes, I ask, “Ready to shut the door?”

Her eyes dart to Remy, who’s still standing just outside the elevator. “It can’t be me or Nick.” He jerks his chin at the gate, telling her, “You’ve got to be the one who does it, Vinny.”

The sound she makes is strangled and full of dread, but she lifts her trembling hand, giving the two of us one last nervous look. Her whole body vibrates as she wrenches the gate closed, slamming it hard into the frame.

Then she punches the button–violently, like it deserves to feel pain.

As the door slides closed, I feel her heart against my chest, pounding like a jackhammer, and do the only thing I know I’m good at. Taking her face in mine, I kiss her again, drawing her attention away from the walls literally closing in. Seeing her like this makes my chest hurt. This is a girl who kicks fuckers in the face, looks Kings in their eyes and dares them to try to break her, keeps going even when she’s held down.

I won’t let this take her away from me.

The car moves with a lurch, and she whimpers in my mouth. “Nick!”

“You’ve got this, baby.” Gathering her trembling body closer, I ask, “You want to know what my biggest fear is?”

She gasps, burying her face into my neck. “W-what?”

Solemnly, I answer, “Crickets.”

She doesn’t relax, but her exhale is definitely edged with exasperation. “Stop.”

“Hey, I’m dead serious,” I assure, stroking my fingers through her hair. “Menacing little Geppetto freaks. Always hiding, but screaming so you’ll know they’re there, jumping around, even though they can fly, and they’ll never let you forget theycanfly, because those disgusting wings of theirs flap around like–”

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