Page 28 of The Heir
I can't lose her.
I can't pretend everything is okay just because we're together again.
"I'm sorry," she sobs into my shoulder. "I'm sorry. I need this, Dante. I need this for our son. I need this for our future. I need this for my past."
Something deep within me cracks. Tears trail hot paths down my cheeks. Half-cocked plans race through my mind—something, anything to keep her safe. Anything to keep her from going and finding trouble. I'll build her a house with my own hands in the mostremote corner of the world, where no one can find us. I'll line the perimeter with land mines. I'll make a deal with whatever devil might exist.
Anything at all. But I know my wife. And I know that once she has her mind set on something, no force on earth can stop her.
"What happens if it doesn't work?" I whisper into her hair. "What if Idolose you?"
"You won't," she says as she pulls back and looks into my eyes with a hardened stare. "You fucking won't."
"How do you expect me to take that chance, love?" My heart quickens in my chest. "You'reonewoman. She's theBeacon."
"Honestly, Dante? I either do this with your blessing or without it." She draws herself up to her full, five-foot-six height. "Are you gonna forbid Roman from helping me? What about Melnyk? Nihil?"
God dammit. God fucking dammit. With every fiber of my being, I don't want her to go.
After Melody stormed off to bed, Roman kept me in the cabin's living room. He keeps opening his mouth like he's going to say something, but neither of us has spoken a word. Anything he says would bounce aroundin the hollow core of my body, wrecking my mind, shattering my very sense of self.
Maybe I'm not much of a man after all. A year ago, I was so fully focused on ascending to the Dantalion. And what do I have to show for it? A traumatized wife, a miscarried fetus, a second-in-command who doesn't respect me, and all of us locked in a doomsday bunker in West Virginia. I'm hemorrhaging money, and running through every single favor I worked tirelessly to get in the first place.
And my wife wants to throw it all away—maybe—to take her shot at Ella. And goddamn it, I just might let her.
"So, nowyoudon't want her to go," Roman finally says.
"I really, really don't." I sigh and rub the sore knot of muscle tightening in my neck. "How did she convince you?"
He huffs out a low chuckle. "She's very persuasive. She didn't so much convince me as ask me what I would suggest and basically agreed to everything I said."
What.
"So,youplanned it? You convinced her?" Heat rises in my chest, and my fear morphs into rage. "You need to talk, and you need to talk right the fuck now, Ro. Whatexactlydid you plan with her?"
"Hey, whoa!" He throws his hands up in a defensive pose. "I was just throwing out ideas—goddamn, sir, shemanipulatedme. She already had Melnyk on her side, I wasn't trying to—fuck. I don't want a mutiny. Honestly, sir, I want this shit to fuckingend. I want to go home. I want you both to go home. I want this to be over."
"Me, too. More than fucking anything, Ro."
"So, where do we go from here, sir?" He looks up at me with exhausted eyes. Fuck, how could I not see how tired he is? How tired we all are?
"I guess… we let her go. We point the furious rage that is my wife at Ella and hope to God she doesn't miss." Every word breaks my heart a little bit more, but I can't put this off. She's made it abundantly clear that I can't stop her. No matter how I feel about it, no matter how badly I don't want her to go, she's going to do it.
With me or without me.
"I think you're making the right choice, sir. The sooner Ella's dead, the sooner this is all over. Who knows? Maybe Helena will be ready to come home, too." Roman smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
"Maybe so. But tell me this, Ro. If we do this… how are we going to keep Melody safe? With the full-scale offense from the Seraph, we can't call on backup. I mean, we can, but there's no guarantee. I know we have forty, maybe fifty people on our payroll. But the Seraph is an unknown: how many bodies does Ella have?"
"More than that." The smile is gone, and he sets his jaw in grim resignation. "I don't know the full count. But from what I can tell based on The Eligos's surveillance? A fucking hell of a lot more."
"Then I repeat myself: what are we going to do to keep Melody safe?"
"Arm her to the goddamn teeth. Cover every square inch of her in body armor. Give her flashbangs and Molotov cocktails if we have to."
The mattress dips, and I'm roused from my sleep. My hand flies over to Melody's side of the bed—empty. Still warm, though. I wait and listen for the telltale sounds of a late-night trip to the bathroom, but they don't come. All I can hear is a light shuffling. The steel hinges of our bedroom door creak open, and I'm wide fucking awake.
"Wife?" I call out, blinking into the pitch dark.
