*Rowan*
The city was still waking up when I walked through her door.
Santiago opened it for me without a word, he'd seen the soot on my cuffs, smelled the scorched wool of my coat, and he knew better than to ask how many men lay colder than the night because of me.
I didn't stop in the foyer. Didn't shrug off my jacket. Didn't even glance at the shadowed guest room where her little friend, Lili, probably slept with a knife under her pillow just for spite.
No. I crossed straight to Harper's room and pushed the door open.
She was there.
Tangled in sheets, hair fanned out on my pillow — one palm pressed to the empty space where my chest should have been all night. Her breath rose and fell steady. Innocent. As if the man at her door wasn't still warm from a kill.
For one heartbeat I did
