Page 77 of House of Soot

"We're not going to hurt the staff," I say firmly, meeting Phoenix's gaze. "This isn't about terrorizing innocent people."

"We go after the ones responsible. Hampton Kean. His inner circle. The ones who actually had a hand in killing our parents. No one else," Phoenix says with the authority that has led us to where we are now.

"Your friends will be safe. I promise,” I say, although she has no reason to believe me.

“The Keans didn’t give a shit about who they killed when they burned our house down.” Ash’s dark gaze is hard as he looks over at Jenna. “Some of those people you knew. Your mother worked with them. And you helped the Keans murder them.”

I bolt up, blocking Ash’s view to Jenna. "That's enough." My voice comes out rough, dangerous.

"Is it?" Ash's eyes narrow. "Our parents burned alive because she showed Ronan that passage."

Behind me, I hear Jenna's broken sob. The sound tears at something deep in my chest.

"She was thirteen," I growl, "a child who had no idea what the Keans were capable of. Just like I had no idea what I was capable of when I set out to hurt her." The admission costs me, but it's true. "We were all innocent once. Before the Keans poisoned everything they touched."

"Innocent?" Ash scoffs. "Her crush got our parents killed."

"And my revenge nearly got her killed tonight." I step forward, not sure what I plan to do. Ash is my brother. I love him. And he’s not wrong. It’s the same thinking I had when I infiltrated the Kean estate. "If you want to blame someone, blame me. I'm the one who failed the mission. I'm the one who fell—” I cut myself off. My feelings don’t matter here.

"Fell what, brother?" Ash's voice is deadly quiet. "In love with our enemy?"

I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that’s exactly what I did.

"She’s just as much a victim of the Keans as we were." I meet his gaze steadily. "And I won't let you hurt her for their crimes."

31

JENNA

Isit huddled on the couch, my arms wrapped around my knees as I try to make sense of everything crashing down around me. The safehouse feels both too small and too vast at once.

Ash's words cut deep. I made their parents' deaths possible. A thirteen-year-old girl's stupid crush led to murder. That truth threatens to crush me. All these years, I thought the Keans were good people who stepped up after tragedy struck. Instead, they orchestrated that tragedy using my childish infatuation to gain access.

These men are strangers to me, and yet, I knew them once. I was a child. They were teenagers whom I saw only on occasion as they were always busy with school and other activities. If I study them, I think I see the young men I knew, but they’re so different now. Gone are those carefree sons. In their place stand hardened men shaped by loss and revenge.

"I didn't know," I whisper, more to myself than them.

Blaise's head snaps up at my words, his green eyes intense. For a moment, I see a flash of the gentle man who held me.But then his jaw clenches, and I remember how easily he killed tonight. How naturally violence comes to him now.

The nausea rises again as I realize I'm carrying the child of a man I barely know. I thought I knew his heart, but everything was built on lies. And yet he came back for me. He killed Ronan to protect me. He defends me to Ash, who is accusing me of the same thing Blaise earlier accused me of. I don't know what to believe anymore.

Phoenix's phone cuts through the tense silence.

"Yeah, everything's fine here. How's it looking there?" He nods, listening. "Good. Keep us posted."

He turns to me. "Your mother's stable. Flint's keeping watch, making sure no one from the Keans gets near her."

My shoulders sag with relief. At least Mom is safe. But can I really trust Flint to protect her? These men are killers. I've seen that firsthand tonight.

"When can I see her?" I twist my hands in my lap. "How long do I have to stay here?"

"Until we're sure it's safe," Blaise answers before Phoenix can. "The Keans won't let this go easily. Not after tonight."

I close my eyes, wishing this were all a bad dream. The thought of being separated from Mom while she recovers is unbearable. I need her. Now more than ever, which I suppose is selfish considering she’s recovering from a heart transplant. I need to be stronger, to learn to stand on my own. I need to be there for her.

"She needs me," I say. "She just had major surgery. I'm supposed to help with her recovery?—”

"You can't help her if you're dead," Ash cuts in.

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