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It was soft, but in earnest, and when he drew back, he whispered, “Then you’re stronger than me.”
    She smirked. “Wait ’til my sister gets done with me.”
    He sighed, glancing at the clock. “Speaking of …” It was time, and all of the playfulness dropped from Emily’s face. She didn’t want the change, didn’t want to be any more of a shadow than she already was.
    But she would do it, for the same reason as Aern. She stepped back and he stood, wrapping his arms around her for a long moment before finally letting go. She wore a plain white Henley and her favorite sneakers; the overstocked closets of their Council rooms hadn’t changed her a bit. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, tucking a loose wave that had escaped her ponytail behind an ear. “We’ll get through this,” he said. “And then I’ll work on your resistance.”
    She laughed, eyes going to his lips despite the challenge, and then caught herself, slipping free of his grasp to head for the door. When her hand touched the lever, she stopped, and he could tell she could feel him there, was aware that he hadn’t moved since she’d stepped away from him. He was watching her, she could sense it. And she could sense something else: contentment, a fierce loyalty. The way he felt about her. She looked back, smiling over her shoulder. “I think I like this, Mr. Archer.”
    He grinned. “I think I like it too.”
    They walked the halls to Brianna’s room, warm and wide, the exact shade of pale paint, trimmed in dark wood, from when he was a boy. Despite the fact that he’d never wanted to lead Council, Aern realized he was glad to be home again; glad everything with Morgan was in the past. He glanced at the same ancient artwork posted in the same location; the only thing changed the Council security and its staff. His pace slowed when they reached the corridor outside of Brianna’s room, because it was empty of either. There was no trace of Logan’s men.
    “Emily,” he whispered as she reached toward the handle, but she ’d already paused, noticing their absence herself or taking Aern’s cue, he didn’t know.
    He slid past her, urging her farther back as he released the latch. The front room was lit, by all appearances empty, and he could see from his vantage point that the door to the bedroom was open as well. He took a step inside. “Brianna?”
    When t here was no answer, Aern slid the earpiece from his pocket, scanning the room for any sign of struggle. He’d been there hours ago; Brianna’s jacket was gone from its place on the chair. A half-eaten sandwich lay plated on the table. Emily moved behind him, pointing to an end table. To the dagger Brianna had been keeping in her boot.
    Emily moved past him as Aern pressed the device in his ear, a crackle of sound preceding the answer from one of Logan’s men. “Daniels here.”
    “Where are you?” Aern said, tone even.
    There was a moment of hesitation before the vo ice came back through. “Sorry, boss. Locket’s orders.”
    Aern pressed the bridge of his nose at the use of his and Brianna’s code names. It would mean they were on a mission. “Is she in trouble?” At his words, Emily froze halfway through the search of her sister’s bedroom, only able to hear one side of the conversation.
    Ano ther pause. “Negative for now, boss.” There was a pulse of radio static, the snap of popping gum. They were waiting. “Could be anything,” he added.
    Could be anything . So they didn’t know. They were following Brianna’s orders. A vision, something that had kept her from telling Emily. “Thanks, Daniels. Please,” Aern said, grateful for the hint, “keep me posted.”
    He could hear the smile in Daniels’ voice. “I’ll submit the request.” There was the click of metal, a jostled firearm, and the man added, “Over and out.”
    Emily turned in the doorway, face ashen. “She isn’t hurt,” Aern promised. “She’s with Logan.” It was all he could say without