* * *
“You’re not coming with me.”
“Like hell I’m not,” I growl. “You can’t expect me to sit around here waiting. Not when I can finally be of use for something.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“No more dangerous than me sitting around here like a sitting duck while you rush headlong into the fight.Again.”
“I rush headlong into danger because I’ve spent years training for it.” He shakes his head. “I can’t protect you out there.”
“I’m not asking you to protect me! I’m asking you to let me help you.”
“Shelby—”
“You don’t even know what the Egg looks like, besides what you’ve seen in some faded black and white photograph. And more importantly, you’re not the one who’s responsible for giving the damn thing away as a re-gift because she didn’t have time to go shopping before her boss’ 50thbirthday party!” My cheeks heat with mortification. I’m still struggling to wrap my mind around the fact that I accidentally gave Aimee — the aura-reading, earth-loving woman who owns the small studio where I occasionally teach yoga — a priceless Fabergé Egg… under the pretense that it was a healing crystal to help ‘channel her spiritual energy flow’, no less.
Anyone else in the world probably would’ve realized their good fortune and sold the Egg to the highest bidder. It’s pure dumb luck that Aimee happens to be the least materialistic person on the planet. I doubt she has any idea of the Egg’s value. And, if she did, there’s a solid chance she might not even care.
His jaw clenches. “You aren’t coming with me. It’s out of the question.”
“This is my fight, too! You aren’t the only one who wants this over and done with.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“And yet you expect me to sit here and do nothing.”
“No, I expect you to sit here and besafewhile I go out and get the Egg from your friend.”
“I’ll go crazy waiting, Conor.” My eyes are suddenly stinging with tears. “I swear to god, if I have to stand here and watch you walk out that door one more time…”
He steps closer, bending until we’re eye to eye. His voice is uncharacteristically soft. “Shelby. I will be fine.”
“You don’t know that! Evelson said the Evanoffs left the deli. That they’rein the wind, whatever the hell that means.”
“It means—”
“Oh, I know what it means!” I say crossly, cutting him off. “I just don’t think it’s very specific, seeing as he’s supposedly the master of surveillance. You’d think he’d be able to pin down their location a bit more precisely.”
“The Evanoffs are highly trained at staying off the grid. How else do you think they’ve managed to evade capture after decades on the Most Wanted list?”
“Not dumb luck, I’m guessing.”
“No. Nothing dumb about it. They’re virtually untraceable when they want to be. Like ghosts.”
“Coldblooded killer ghosts,” I mutter.
“Yes. They are. Which is precisely why you’re staying here, where they can’t get to you.”
“But—”
“Shelby.” His jaw is set stubbornly. “I cannot do my job effectively with you out in the open, exposed. Don’t you understand? I won’t be able to think about anything except keeping you out of harm’s way.”
“So you’re saying I’m a liability. That I’m your Achilles heel. Your kryptonite. Your weakness.”
His face softens. Leaning forward, he brushes his lips against mine in a gentle kiss that makes my heart flip over. “I’m saying that I am in love with you.”
The world stops turning.