Page 91 of Princess of Vengeance

Quinn rolls her eyes at me, then leans in to press another kiss to Killian’s lips. “You’re both sweet in different ways, and I missed you both,” she says when they finally break apart. “All three of you.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” I say, pushing off the wall. “By my count, Killian has had at least three kisses from you—not to mention however many from the cat. It seems like you might have a favorite after all.”

I’m teasing both of them now, but the fact remains that I want a fucking kiss.

Her eyes find mine, and the heat in them makes my blood run hot. “Never.”

That’s all the invitation I need. I cross the room in three long strides and pull her out of Killian’s arms, spinning her to face me. My hand cups the back of her neck, and my fingers tangle in her teal hair as I crush my mouth to hers.

Her lips part instantly under mine, and I kiss her hard and deep, pouring all the fear and longing I felt while we were apart into it. I’ve never been good with words, never known how to say all the shit that builds up inside me, but I can show her with my hands, my mouth, and my body.

“Some of us are trying to have a fucking moment with our cat here,” Killian grumbles.

I break the kiss with a grin, keeping Quinn close against me. “Your cat will survive the trauma of watching.”

Heavy footsteps approach from the kitchen, and Nico appears in the doorway with a bottle of beer dangling from hisfingers. He freezes when he sees Quinn, and something flashes in his eyes—relief, hunger, and love all at once.

“Mia cara.”

She steps out of my arms and moves to him, and I watch as he sets his beer aside and pulls her in close, his kiss gentler than mine but no less desperate. His hand cradles her face like she’s something precious, something he can’t believe he’s allowed to touch.

“Well, don’t let us interrupt your little reunion,” Killian says dryly, carrying Princess toward the kitchen. “I’m going to get this poor neglected animal some food.”

Quinn breaks away from Nico with a soft laugh. “She hasn’t been neglected,” she calls after Killian. “She’s been with Imogen.”

“Because Imogen is the warmest, most nurturing soul I’ve ever met,” Killian deadpans over his shoulder.

“Almost as warm and fuzzy as you,” I shoot back.

We follow him into the kitchen where he’s already rooting through the fridge, pulling out what looks like a package of deli meat. He tears off a small piece of turkey and offers it to the cat, who delicately takes it from his fingers.

“You’re really going to share our food with it?” Nico asks, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s probably been eating fucking cat food at Imogen’s,” Killian says, as if that explains everything. “She deserves better.”

“We’ll get her some proper food,” Quinn promises, leaning against the counter. She’s watching all of us with a small smile playing at her lips, and there’s something different about her today. A spark in her eyes that’s been missing for way too fucking long.

I study her for a moment, trying to figure out what’s changed. “You’re in a good mood. What’s going on?”

Her smile widens. “I’m making progress.”

“What kind of progress?” Nico asks, instantly alert.

Quinn glances toward the door, an old habit from years of being cautious. Even here, in what should be a safe place, she checks. We all do.

“I’m starting to turn Imogen against Malcolm,” she says, her voice low but excited. “She’s going to help me.”

“Help you how?” I ask, not bothering to hide my skepticism. I’ve learned not to trust anyone outside our tight circle, especially not someone who literally stabbed Quinn not so long ago.

She spends the next few minutes filling us in on her conversation with Imogen—how she learned about Imogen’s sister, how Malcolm manipulated her, and how Quinn planted the seed that Malcolm might have set up the whole situation.

“She thinks we can turn the other Syndicate members too,” Quinn says. “One by one, starting with Cassandra.”

“And you believe her?” Nico asks, voicing the doubt we’re all feeling. “You trust that she’s not just gathering intel to report back to Malcolm?”

Quinn hesitates. “I don’t trust her completely. But I think her hatred for Malcolm is real. You should have heard her voice when she talked about her sister, about how Malcolm showed up with his offer right after she died. There was real pain there. Real resentment.”

“Pain can be faked,” Killian points out, still feeding small bits of meat to Princess. “Manipulation is Malcolm’s specialty. Maybe Imogen learned from the master.”

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