2. Lyssa

I re-enterthe Empire Grand Hotel as discreetly as possible. The enormous lobby is mostly empty at this time of night, even of Syndicate members—most of them are out working—though it's staffed 24/7. The night clerk gives me a polite nod. But as I head towards the private elevator bay, a familiar voice calls out.

"Lyssa! I've been hoping to catch you."

Shit. Aurora, all sunshine smiles and effortless beauty even at this hour. I paste on a neutral expression as she approaches.

"Everything okay, Suzy?"

Aurora tucks a lock of dark blonde hair behind her ear and fixes me with those big blue eyes. "I'm fine, thank you for asking. But I-I actually wanted to apologize about the other day."

"The other day?" My mind is a total blank. I'm not sure Suzy Sunshine here could even do something worth apologizing for.

And then she says, "You know, the other day, at the cafe. When I saw you with…" She gives me a significant look, her eyebrows working.

Oh. Fuck. She's talking about the cafe where she and Mrs. Graves walked in on me and Scarlett. I school my features. "What about it?"

"Well..." Aurora's cheeks pink up. "When I saw you together with…with that woman, I thought perhaps you were, you know. Um. Intimate."

And suddenly I'm picturing exactly how intimate Scarlett and I have been—her slick heat clenching around my fingers, those gorgeous hazel eyes rolling back in ecstasy.

"But I realize now you were just playing a part to get close to her." Aurora's still looking at me with those huge, earnest eyes and I hope like hell I don't have color creeping up my neck. "Hadria assured me there's no way you'd actually be interested in someone like that. Not after what she did to Yuri and Eddie and Bulldog." Time seems to crawl to a halt as Aurora mentions the Syndicate soldiers Scarlett killed in cold blood. And tears are shining in those big doe eyes now. "Yuri was always so kind to me," she whispers. "I can't imagine someone killing him in cold blood like that. It's just—so horrible."

Guilt spears straight through me. I'm keeping the very person responsible for his death hidden away, lying to everyone, betraying the vows I swore to Hadria and the Syndicate.

Some protector I am. A real fucking joke.

"Lyssa?" Aurora's soft voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I shove away the tortured thoughts. They're not helpful. I have a plan, and Scarlett will get what's coming to her…in the end. "Just had a long day. Night. I need to get some sleep."

She offers me one of those radiant smiles that Hadria lives for. "Of course, you must be exhausted."

"Mmhmm," is all I can manage.

Thankfully, Aurora doesn't seem to notice my awkwardness. "Well, since I have you here, I should also tell you: Hadria's missed you, you know."

Hadria. My boss, my chosen sister, my family...and I'm lying right to her face. "I should, uh, catch up with her. But right now I need to get upstairs," I mumble, unable to meet Aurora's open gaze. "Before I pass out. Gotta start training the newbies later."

I back away, needing to escape before I crack and spill everything like the hot mess I've become. Aurora doesn't try to stop me, just gives me a sunny smile and a little wave.

"Sleep well, Lyssa."

I continue on to the elevators, nodding curtly at the Syndicate guards posted by the secure entrance. The hotel belongs to the Bianchi Family of New York, but I insisted we be allowed our own security. Once inside, I lean my forehead against the cool metal, gritting my teeth against the surge of emotions battering me from all sides. What the fuck am I doing? When did I become such a massive dumpster fire of bad decisions?

The elevator opens and I nearly run right into Mrs. Graves, maybe the last person I want to see right now, even apart from Hades herself. Instantly I tense, bracing for the pained disappointment etched on her face whenever she looks at me now.

"Lyssa." She meets my gaze levelly, her eyes boring into me like she can see every thought, every traitorous impulse flickering through my fucked-up brain.

"Mrs. G." I incline my head in a shallow nod to the closest thing I've ever had to a mother. The woman who welcomed me with open arms when I had nothing, who looked the other way at whatever illegal shit Hadria and I were into as teenagers, as long as we were safe and loyal to each other.

And now I've gone and betrayed every shred of that trust.

"I hope you were...successful in your missions tonight," she says.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Mrs. wasn't even mad when I told her I'd killed Scarlett. She was disappointed. So much fucking worse. And I can't tell her the truth, because by the time Grandmother is dead, the truth will be that Scarlett's dead, too.

I have my orders and I plan to carry them out. Not because I have to, like Scarlett was trying to insinuate earlier. But because?—

The elevator doors open on my floor, and Mrs. G walks out first without a glance back at me, shoulders slumped with a weariness I've rarely seen from the sturdy, no-nonsense woman. I squeeze my eyes shut, wrestling against the twin urges to come clean or run as far from this tangled mess as I possibly can.

My room is blessedly quiet and empty when I arrive. I strip off my clothes, leaving them in a careless heap as I head to the bathroom. Turning the shower on to scalding, I step under the brutal spray and let it pound my aching muscles.

I brace my hands on the tile, shoulders slumped just like Mrs. G's as the water sluices over me. What the fuck is wrong with me? I've never let silly things like desire or sentimentality cloud my judgment before. Emotions are a liability, a mistake just waiting to be exploited in this world we live in.

So why can't I seem to shake this…this connection or whatever the hell it is I feel towards Scarlett? Every time I picture cutting her down like I'm supposed to, something inside me twists in violent protest. It's like my very instincts are refusing to comply, putting Scarlett off limits in a way no mark has ever been before.

But she's no innocent. She's a killer, just like me.

Maybe that's why I'm training her so hard. I want her to have a warrior's death. I don't want to hurt her when I kill her, but…

I do want her to have a fighting chance.

I slam my fist against the wall hard enough to bruise my knuckles, frustration and self-loathing roaring through me. I need to get these thoughts out of my head. Why is this one infuriating, irresistible woman making me weak?

But underneath it all, I already know. I'm just not willing to think about it too hard. The truth is, Scarlett reached right into that hollow cavity I call a chest and wrapped her delicate little fingers around the withered thing that's supposed to be my heart.

And like a fool, I keep letting her squeeze, let her grip on me wind tighter and tighter until it threatens to kill me.

Somewhere along the way, she's become something important to me.

Something dangerous.