Break the Day - Lara Adrian Page 0,74
turned into a poisonous hatred that had hardened her to the world around her. It had hardened her heart.
She still wanted Opus Nostrum to pay for her family’s slaying and everyone else in the London office that awful night, but her personal vendetta had galvanized into something stronger, steelier.
A sense of purpose, not vigilantism.
Coming to know Rafe had done that for her. Partnering with him in a shared cause, opening herself up to him as a friend and confidante, as a lover.
He had made her realize she didn’t want to be alone on her quest. She wanted to be part of something more.
With him.
The kettle whined on the stove. Devony poured hot water over the diffuser and breathed in the soothing, orange-and-spice fragrance of the loose tea leaves.
She felt an odd prickle at the back of her neck as she took the first careful sip.
Her head came up, and she listened for a moment to the utter silence of the empty Darkhaven.
She didn’t hear anything, but she was certain she wasn’t alone inside the house now.
A jolt of hopefulness arrowed through her. “Rafe?”
No one answered. Holding her steaming mug, she padded out of the kitchen to the short hallway that led out to the foyer.
If Rafe were close, shouldn’t she feel his presence through their bond? She felt certain she would, but her hope was irrational as she stepped into the open area at the front entrance of the Darkhaven.
It wasn’t Rafe.
The instant her gaze lit on who stood there, her tea slipped out of her grasp. She didn’t even feel the hot liquid splashing against her bare feet and ankles as the mug crashed to the tiles in front of her. Her heart was too full, her mind too stunned, to feel anything except disbelief and a surge of overwhelming joy.
“Harrison?”
Her brother looked thinner than she recalled him, his handsome face a little gaunt against the bright copper-penny color of his brush-cut hair. Devony stepped around the spill on the floor, elation almost sending her racing forward to embrace him.
Almost.
Something halted her. She wasn’t sure why she hesitated, but uncertainty stilled her footsteps. Her instincts seemed to freeze her limbs despite the desperate hope bubbling inside her.
“Harry.” She wrapped her arms around herself instead of him. “My God. Is it really you?”
His mouth curved. “It’s me, Dovey.”
His nickname for her from the time they were children. It should have comforted her, but somehow, paired with the odd look on his face, the endearment rang hollow now, his voice airless and strange.
“But . . . how are you here?” She shook her head, torn between confusion and astonishment. “Where have you been all this time? Why didn’t you try to contact me? Does this also mean that Mum and Dad are—”
He shook his head. “They’re gone.”
“Gone.” The word felt so cold, so inconsequential falling off his tongue. She knew it was simply a fact, however painful.
Yet she felt their deaths settle on her all over again now that she was looking at her brother, alive and well. Somehow, miraculously, unharmed.
“They’re more than gone, Harrison. They’re dead. You all were, at least that’s what I’ve believed all this time. You, our parents, and a hundred other people who were also in that building when the bomb took it down. Yet here you are.”
He tilted his head as she spoke. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“I am. You have no idea how many times I’ve wished to see you—all of you—again. But I’m . . . confused.” God, she only wished she were confused. Because the most logical explanation for him to be standing in front of her right now was one that sent a chill into her veins. “How is it possible? There were no survivors. Opus left nothing but rubble behind that night. So, please explain to me how you were the only person to escape that blast?”
“We’re at war, Dovey.” He took a step toward her. “People get hurt in war. People die.”
A feeling of nausea swept over her at his bland tone. “I’m not talking about war. I’m talking about cold-blooded murder. Opus Nostrum killed our parents. They killed your colleagues at JUSTIS. As of now, they also want to kill me.” She exhaled a shaky breath as she stared into the face of this emotionless semblance of her brother. This stranger. “I don’t suppose I need to tell you that, though. Do I?”
When he didn’t deny it, something shattered inside her. The part of her