7. Scarlett

I glaredaggers at Lyssa as she strolls in two nights later, tossing her hair back like she doesn't have a care in the world.

"Where the hell have you been?" I snap. She's left me waiting and wondering for two whole days with nothing but my rage and my fear to keep me company. "I was getting ready to hitchhike back into the city!"

Lyssa holds up a hand. "Easy there. I'm sorry you're so pissed, but I had Syndicate business to handle. Brought you food, though." She tosses a paper bag over.

I don't catch it, letting it land at my feet and then I'm still so angry I kick it aside, scattering the contents across the barn floor. "I'm starving because you never showed up yesterday, you ass!"

"Well, I guess you must not be that hungry," Lyssa says, looking at the food.

The urge to wrap my hands around her smug throat is getting stronger. I tamp it down with difficulty. "Where. Were. You?" I grit out.

"Like I said, handling business." Lyssa bends over and starts salvaging what she can from the spilled food. It's more protein bars and plastic-packaged sandwiches, so it's mostly fine. "The Syndicate moved back to our base at Elysium. Left that Bianchi hotspot for good."

She glances up at me and must read the doubt in my expression because she holds up a hand again. "Relax, it's a good thing. Means you and I can do something I wanted to do for a while."

"And what's that?"

"Go back to Grandmother's house."

I search her cool gaze, finding an edge of something like…regret? And my anger cools as her meaning sinks in. We can move more freely in Chicago now that the Syndicate isn't right there in the middle of the city.

Lyssa rises, dusting off her hands. "I want to search that high-rise, top to bottom. Literally. And I want to do it tonight, if you're up for it."

I flinch at the mere thought of returning to that place. The faint metallic stench of blood, the ghostly echoes of screams in the stairwell—and the torture I endured there for so many years.

Just the memory makes my hands shake. But I can't show fear in front of Lyssa. She'll think I'm weak.

Swallowing hard, I lift my chin. "Sounds like a plan."

Lyssa's eyes glimmer with what might be approval. Or maybe just cruel amusement at my bravado. "If you're sure. I figured your need for revenge would outweigh any…hesitation about going back."

Hesitation. As if I'm some wilting, fragile flower instead of a skilled assassin bent on vengeance. "I said I'd go, didn't I? I'm game—if you think you can keep up, Wolf."

I hurl the verbal gauntlet at her feet, inwardly praying she doesn't just tell me to go myself if I'm all that. For all my posturing, I do need her with me.

I can't go back to that place alone.

For an endless moment, Lyssa silently weighs me with that unnervingly intent stare. Then, startlingly, something close to compassion flickers across her harsh features.

"Okay. Let's do it. The Syndicate tore that place apart after Grandmother bailed, but I know her tricks. Could be I missed something, and having your inside knowledge will be really useful."

She makes it sound so matter-of-fact and logical. Like we're just a couple of buddies teaming up for a mundane chore, not infiltrating the sadistic lair where my personal hell was forged.

I'm still not sure I want to do it, but having her by my side will make it much easier. "Okay then. Let's go."

Lyssa produces a small case filled with gear—grappling hooks, ziplines, and other tools for a covert entry. "We'll get to the roof of the tower across the street because it's a lot easier to access. Then we'll zipline over," she says, all business now. "Then we work our way through Grandmother's house."

Get in, search for clues, get out. Easy.

So long as I can keep my shit together long enough not to have a meltdown.

As Lyssa said, accessing the higher rooftop of the tower across the street from Grandmother's house is easy enough. Gearing up in tense silence, I keep shooting sidelong glances at her, wondering how long I really have. Whether she's decided I'm not actually any help, and she plans to cut the line as I go across it, let me fall to my death below.

She must feel my eyes on her, but she remains stoically professional, checking and rechecking her equipment with crisp, economical movements. No sign of the visceral violence that lurks beneath that remote exterior.

She finally turns with exaggerated notice, spreading her arms out. "What?"

I open my mouth but the words shrivel on my tongue. What could I possibly say? That I'm terrified that I'm standing in my last few moments?

That just being this close to Grandmother's house makes me jittery?

That despite everything…some tiny, treacherous part of me still wants her?

Instead, I just shake my head and shoulder my pack. "Nothing. Let's get on with it."

Lyssa holds my eyes for a beat longer, as if she can see straight through me. Then she gives a shrug and we move over to the edge. Pausing on the windswept roof, I suppress a shudder as the adjacent high-rise looms not far below.

"You sure about this, Scar?" Lyssa's voice cuts through my whirling thoughts. "Last chance to back out."

The concern in her tone nearly breaks me. Nearly makes me beg her to just take me away from this haunted place and all the painful memories it holds.

But I'm not the girl my parents want me to be.

And I'm not a cowering victim, either.

I turn my stare from the high-rise to Lyssa. "On your lead, Wolf. I'm right behind you."

She actually winks at me. "That's my girl." Without wasting another breath, Lyssa takes aim and anchors the zipline on the edge of the high-rise. With deft movements, she secures the metal carabiners and gives the main line a hard tug. Satisfied with her handiwork, she backs up, then takes a running leap across the void between buildings, zipping through the night like a lethal shadow.

I follow on her heels before I can talk myself out of it, not even daring to look down at the yawning drop beneath us. But the exhilarating rush of the open air clears my head, tuning out everything but the mission. We hit the opposing roof and clamber up, running in a low crouch to hide behind some of the large a/c pipes to the right. Lyssa sticks her head out for a moment, then signals the all-clear. I follow her across the helipad to the access door.

Lyssa doesn't mess around. She just shoots out the lock and kicks the door open.

We pause there for a moment, looking into the empty black hole behind it before Lyssa steps inside, then glances back at me.

I step over the threshold and take out my gun, just as she has, and I follow her down the stairs into the darkness.