Page 239 of Entangled

“Jealousy? Dom, it says ‘killer.’ Inblood. This is beyond hurt feelings. Someone died for this,” I argue, trying to work out how much blood there actually is. A lot of it is splatter, which looks more dramatic than high volume—there’s liters on the bed though.

Liters means death.

“Not someone. Something,” Eden says in a hushed voice.

She leans into Dom, not even seeming to realize she’s doing it, and he takes her weight just as unconsciously, moving his arm to make room for her.

Eden’s eyes are glued to the smeared accusation.

“Did you ever find Akira, Beau?”

Akira.

“No, I got distracted dealing with a sprained ankle. Aaron was still looking, but...” I close my eyes as it hits me. “She hates you.”

The whole camp knows it at this point. Akira’s lover died in the Sinners’ camp, and she refuses to be anywhere near Eden. I know Eden’s been giving her a wide berth, but while Bristlebrook is hardly a shoebox, it doesn’t exactly absorb nearly a hundred people without a hitch either.

Eden hugs herself, and Dom’s hand squeezes the nape of her neck, his thumb sweeping soothingly over her skin. My eyes snag on the motion.

Whatwerethey doing in the hall?

Eden nods once, stealing my attention. She looks ill. The tip of her nose is too red and shiny, the rest of her too pale.

“She was on Team Bacon tonight, too.” She frowns up at Dom. “They would have gutted and bled the pig, wouldn’t they?”

“It was meant to be cooked to extend rations.” Dom’s mouth takes on a grim press as he catches on. “We need to be sure that’s what this is. Let’s organize a head count and then get everyone sober enough to sweep the woods.”

My shoulders unknot some. One woman wielding pig’s blood is a damned sight different to a pile of Sinners sneaking through our ranks. Is that all this is? Bitterness and too much alcohol?

“Teams of three?” I ask Dom.

“No less—and let’s arm them up, just in case. I’m done taking chances.”

I quickly wash my hands, then move toward the wardrobe where I store my rifle. I’ve had my pistol on me all night, but as Dom said, we need to be sure, and I’m not getting caught with my ass out.

But when I look, my rifle’s nowhere to be found.

“She’s swiped it,” I tell him, and Dom’s breath leaves him in an annoyedsnick.

“Fine. We’ll get you another and warn the crews she may be hostile,” he says.

We’re both filing out of the room when I realize that Eden is still hovering in the bathroom, staring at the mirror with a wan expression.

Killer.

Damn it, she doesn’t need this.

“Hey now, darlin’. You here with me?” I call gently, and she startles, then with one last look at the mirror, she picks her way over to us, a little uneasy on her feet.

I’m about to take her hand when Dom scoops her up in his arms and starts walking across the inner balcony to the other side of the house.

I stare after them. No. Aftereverything, he does not get to spend two weeks hanging off his ex, picking over options like fruits in a basket and deciding if Eden and I are good enough for him. He rejected me for her once already. He rejected Eden, too.

He doesn’t get to just waltz back over here with a shrug after all that and say, “Oh, maybe I will give her a try. Serve her up for me, Beau.”

No, sir. He does not.

I swallow down my anger, reminding myself that we have a bigger issue at hand... but it goes down like a slow and bitter poison.

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