"She needs a damned therapist."
"Because that worked so well the last time," I said, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest.
My eyes tracked the lines of ash that ran down, underneath the oversized shirt she had on. In the dark, they looked almost... lumiscent.
My jaw clenched, and like she could feel my rage in her sleep, her fingers that hadn’t let go of mine even after she passed out tightened around my pinky.
"Something happened to her," I said, my gaze finding Mercer’s. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her since. Like he believed if he stared hard enough, he could find all the answers he needed. "Change of heart, Mercer?"
He looked away sharply, fixing his hard stare on Soren. "How long till the results come back?"
Soren ran his fingers through his hair. The darkness under his eyes had deepened. "Two days, give or take. But Emily thinks we’d be better off finding Levi Sommer if we doubt the results we received from Munich."
"Not much we can do on that note since the old fucker’s been missing for months," Quinlan murmured, filling his glass with whiskey. The gash on his chest was fully healed now, dried blood caking his skin, but his hands still shook.
We weren’t going to talk about the fact that Maisie was going to rip out his heart. Or the fact that she had nearly taken out Soren’s left eye. Neither were we going to talk about how she kept screaming his name as she tried to tear off her own skin.
Lyon.
"It’s been nine months," Soren said. "Long enough for her body to heal from whatever the fuck happened. The chances that we find something from the tests are... slim. But whatever it is we can find, I’ll take it over nothing."
"We still got nothing on the man who paid off her debts?" I asked, unable to stop myself as my fingers tracked through the strands of her hair.
The brown roots were showing up. I itched her scalp lightly and she sighed softly into my lap, tear tracks white on her cheeks.
"He has been..." Quinlan’s glass paused a breath away from his mouth, and his face twisted with disdain and irration as he growled the word, "...elusive."
Quinlan’s network of men around the world was far wider than ours, which was why if you needed to find someone, even if they were in some nameless, watery and shallow grave, you came to Quinlan.
We had been able to tell whatever new location Maisie popped up at thanks to that particular advantage. Though, he’d never sought her out himself. Out of resentment. Out of fear. He always did have a habit of avoiding shit until it hit the fan.
Still, if Quinlan couldn’t find someone, it wasn’t because they didn’t want to be found. It was because they were powerful enough to keep it that way.
That was just as disturbing as the doctor and every nurse who had tended Maisie in that hospital conveniently going missing.
Mercer said, "With the competition approaching, I won’t be expected back at the castle for two weeks. I’ll track him down myself–"
"No," Quinlan, Soren and I said in unison.
A deep rattle came in Mercer’s chest. "This affects me, too, and I don’t need your fucking permission–"
"You are better off knowing nothing," Soren cut in harshly.
The veins in Mercer’s neck bunched as his face reddened with anger. "Mother had nothing to do with this."
"It’s that thinking that landed us all at the facility, one day away from being executed," Quinlan growled.
"And you want to know why we got out untouched just so your prickly ass could go back to playing perfect son? Soren here bargained with his life and ours. For us. For her. If he can’t prove Maisie’s innocence, he’ll mark that bitch. There," Quinlan raised his glass. "Since you needed a fucking reminder, you stuck up asshole."
Mercer’s hand curled into fists. "Tessa’s not the reason we ended up behind bars, you drunk fuck. We ended up behind bars because you three plotted to assassinate my mother. Behind my fucking back!" he snarled.
Maisie’s brows furrowed at the tone and I growled at Mercer. "Keep it down. You’ll wake her."
He looked at me like I was insane. Then he mimicked bitterly, "Malyshka this, Malyshka that, do you ever get tired of acting like you’re better than the lot of us, or you really can’t think past your dick? She called you a fucking monster and you’re there, petting her hair like she deserves to be rewarded for something."

And if she still thought dying was better than being ours–mine–I would take it as a fault of mine and try harder.
A menacing growl rattled off the walls from Mercer. "Say that shit again to my face, princess."
Mercer’s green eyes darkened. "Fuck you. You know I’d die for Maisie in a heartbeat. I would’ve done anything–everything–for her! I have always put her first."
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