Bait N' Witch (Brimstone Inc. #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,65

sigil on her wrist, but that was between her and Grey. And, should the Syndicate decide to execute her, she didn’t want him to know. She couldn’t bear it if she hurt him that way. “No.” Was it possible to die from a shattered heart? “Nothing else.”

Alasdair swiveled to Grey. “Anything to add?”

Rowan locked eyes with the man she loved, trying to plead with him, to communicate the truth—that she’d never hurt him or the girls. I’m sorry, she mouthed.

He glanced away, moving his gaze to Alasdair. “You have all the information you need.”

Rowan looked down and bit the inside of her cheek to keep the tears at bay. She wouldn’t forgive her, either, if she were in his position. But she’d hoped.

Silly, really. To believe he could.

Alasdair turned back to them. “Wait in one of our smaller conference rooms. Michael, who’s waiting outside the door, will show you where. One of us will meet you there with our decision.”

Grey still wouldn’t look at her. Persephone’s sour lemon expression turned into the smirk of a cat who’d guzzled a gallon of cream, and Rowan’s feet refused to move. Delilah had to tug at her arm, practically pulling her out of the room.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Grey blew out a long breath before he turned the knob and entered the room where Rowan waited with Delilah. The Syndicate, with a big push from Alasdair, had sided with his recommendations. It helped that Rowan had used her powers to protect him and his family and help kill Kaios’s people. Now he had to see if Rowan would go along with what they were going to ask of her.

Everything—his entire life—depended on her response.

She’d said she loved him. He’d heard her through the haze of death she’d yanked him out of the night the wolves attacked. Had she meant it?

Sitting through Rowan’s interrogation had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. His own personal hell—to sit and do nothing. To not defend her at the top of his lungs. To not show her in any way that he wouldn’t let them hurt her. Snarling at Persephone had been a slip. Unavoidable. No one was killing or locking Rowan away. Not while he had breath in his body.

Of anyone in that room, he’d been most at risk from her, and he should be the most pissed at her. He should’ve been furious at her deceptions, incensed that, after what they’d shared, she still hadn’t trusted him with the truth. But, after she’d risked her own life to protect the girls and save him…his only thought had been protecting her from the very people he served. From his own job.

He’d spent the last three days doing so.

Grey walked into the small conference room to find Rowan standing at the window staring out at the view of the mountains. Delilah sat in a chair calmly tapping away on her cell phone, her long nails clicking against the screen. Both women turned when he entered.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Delilah murmured.

He gave her a nod of thanks but barely noticed as she left, closing the door behind her with a soft click, leaving total silence in her wake.

Rowan eyed him warily, her arms crossed over her stomach like she was holding herself together. “So…what did they decide?”

Grey stepped closer. “Do you remember the night you told the girls a story about a pony who went to live with a family of donkeys, hoping to hide from the master who wanted to send her to the glue factory?”

She blinked at him, then frowned. “You know about those stories?”

Grey watched her, searching for any sign of her true feelings. This witch had sent his emotions into a tailspin. He had no idea what had been real between them and what had been an act to survive. “I listened outside the door almost every night.”

“Oh.” She glanced away.

“Was that story about you?”

That pulled her gaze back to him, and he could see the questions and doubts swirling there. She opened her mouth to answer, then took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“In the story, the pony ends up wishing she could stay with the donkeys forever,” he murmured.

Again she opened her mouth and closed it. “What did they decide, Grey?”

He blew out a sharp breath, no closer to the answers he needed and with no clue how she’d respond to what he was about to say. “That depends on you.”

She frowned. “Me?”

“Yes. You won’t be punished if you agree to certain conditions.”

Rowan’s