“She’s somewhere else in her head. She probably still feels like she’s in danger. You coming at her like a one-man firing squad is just going to make her shut down more.”
Damon’s eyes stayed on Tasha, still burning, but he exhaled once..short, sharp, like it took effort to pull back even slightly.
“Fine,” he said, his voice low but still carrying that lethal edge. “But she is going to tell me what happened. And when she does, I will make sure they never touch anyone again.”
“Good,” I said quickly, even though my heart was still hammering. “Just… let’s get her inside first before you start making detailed murder plans in the middle of the hallway.”
Her lips trembled so badly it was like even her mouth wanted to run away from whatever she was about to say, and her fingers kept knotting themselves together in her lap like she was trying to braid her own skin.
“I… I can’t… oh my God, I can’t even say it, Lyra,” she stammered, her voice shaking so much it made my stomach twist because I already knew whatever was coming was going to be bad.
“Just spit it out already before I lose my mind,” I snapped, and she flinched. Her throat bobbed, her breathing got all uneven, and then she blurted it out in one breath, “It was Marcus,”
I froze. Damon froze. We both turned to her like synchronized robots, and I swear the air in the room shifted.
“What?!” we said at the same time, mine coming out as a high-pitched screech, his deep and sharp enough to cut glass. My brain just stopped working for a full two seconds. No way. There was no way I had heard her correctly.
Damon’s face hardened instantly, like the name alone was a trigger that ripped him out of the present and shoved him straight into kill mode.
“Hold up,” he said slowly, with each word dripping in disbelief and fury. “Marcus. As in Marcus, the pathetic waste of oxygen you used to date? Lyra’s ex-boyfriend Marcus?” His eyes cut to me, sharp and searching, like he was confirming that this wasn’t some sick joke.
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