“Where’s Hank?” I asked, doing the mental math and not seeing his head in the pile.

“We assume he’s with Mercy.”

I closed the trunk lid and drummed my fingernails on it. I wanted to feel bad for this. I’d sentenced these men to death, and without me they would still be alive. But the guilt didn’t come. I’d made a call Lucas should have made on his own. The men in that trunk represented more of a risk to Lucas’s pack than they had to me personally.

“Well done,” I said.

“That’s it? That’s what you’re going to say to me?” Lucas asked, his cheeks flushing with rage.

“Do you want me to high-five you?”

“I want you to admit I’ve done something worthy of your forgiveness.”

I snorted. “No. You’ve done what a good king needed to do.”

“You asked for this.”

“And I shouldn’t have needed to. Mercy’s pack was a threat to you. Don’t kid yourself that you did this for me. You just let me make the hard call for you.”

“I killed them for you.”

“How romantic.”

Lucas threw his hands in the air in a familiar why, God, why gesture. But I no longer cared if I tested his patience. In fact, I no longer cared what Lucas thought of me at all.

“You—”

Desmond interrupted him this time. “Lucas, shut up. She’s right. You should have taken action against them. That’s your job, not a favor you’re doing for her. You talk about being a king and making the tough calls? This was a call for you to make, and she did it for you. So just shut up.”

Lucas looked ready to blow. He snapped his fingers at Dominick, who seemed disgusted but followed with the king faithfully. Lucas paused by the passenger door of the car. “You should know, while you were busy shipping my sister away, your mother left. She saw what we did and she’s gone.”

Even after he got into the car, I continued to stare at the place where he’d been standing. All I could think was He let this happen on purpose. Followed shortly by, I did all this for nothing. I took two steps back and sat on the steps leading down to my apartment. The car pulled away, and I was left alone with Desmond and Holden once more.

“She’s gone,” I said, mostly to myself.

“But you’re you again,” Holden reminded me. Until then he’d been waiting patiently off to the side. Now he was standing directly behind me. “The threat is over.”

I jerked my shoulder away from his touch and got to my feet. “It’s not over. The threat won’t be over until she’s dead.”

“Then you’ll find her.”

I looked from Holden to Desmond, then let out a labored sigh. “I thought this would do it. I thought I’d finally be done with her.”

Holden and Desmond exchanged a glance, and I was betting neither of them knew what they should say to me. How could they? I didn’t know if there was anything anyone could say to make me feel hopeful right then.

“Don’t fill your mind with one werewolf now, my dear,” came a voice from the stairs below me.

I pedaled backwards, almost tripping as Sig materialized out of the small landing and into the stairwell. He was carrying a glass aquarium, which he handed to me when we were on even footing at the top of the stairs. “I believe this is for you.”

Inside the tank was a frog giving me a clearly disapproving glare.

On top of the tank was a note that read, For a promise broken — A. So this little bugger was the cause of so many problems? I’d expected to be given the fairy in his or her natural form. I guess Aubrey had some fun with it first. Keaty was going to be thrilled when I dropped this off at his office.

“Thanks,” I told Sig. “I think?”

“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t come with good news.” He leaned close and sniffed the air around me. “But I’m pleased to see you may once again be in a position to survive.”

“Survive?”

He patted my cheek gently. “How soon the memory of things fade in youth.”

I shook my head. “What do you mean?”

“Your mother is the least of your problems now.”

“What does that mean?” Desmond asked.

“Fuck me,” Holden answered, obviously coming to a conclusion I wasn’t able to reach. “The lifeline lock.”

“The…” My eyes widened. Oh Jesus. In Brigit’s passing, I’d been so caught up in losing my friend I hadn’t thought of the bigger consequences. Brigit had stood up for me, using her life as the tether that kept Alexandre Peyton bound. The one person other than my mother who would want me dead the most.

Because of me he’d been locked away for over a year, starved and cuffed in silver. The council had determined his punishment needed an end date, so we’d locked his door with Brigit’s blood. Now that Brigit was dead…

“The door is open,” I said at last.

“Yes. Alexandre is free,” Sig replied.

“And still within the council?” I asked hopefully.

“You believe I’d be here if you were so lucky?”

“He’s…”

“Yes.” He crossed his arms and frowned, showing more emotion than I was used to seeing from him. “Peyton is gone.”