After staring at Harper poke at her omelet for the better part of an hour, Wick paid the tab and escorted her to their car. He'd tried to feed her—and on some level, Harper knew it was important—but she couldn't conceive doing something as mundane as breakfast. She felt the urge to grab the nearest person by their lapels and shout in their face, "Gerard is gone, and you are ordering a latte?"

She despised Wick at that moment, too. The way he moved about the world as if nothing had disturbed the calm surface of his life. She knew better than most who knew him how far the depths went, how dark they were, how gnarly were the monsters that lurked there, but she couldn't find it in her to understand.

How?

How was he able to function?

How was she supposed to go on?

She'd done it once when her mother passed away. A second time, when her father died. Then losing Theo, Aisling, and her whole life and everything she'd ever known. She had no more grief left to give.

She watched the landscape through the car window change from urban to meadows and from bright to twilight as they drove beyond the outskirts of the city and arrived at a small hamlet; A handful of buildings clustered around a steepled church in a town center with a single main road. One of those tourist side-stops that were dead off-season.

They turned off the street onto an alley and into a pebbled courtyard. Stacks of chairs and tables towered in the shade of a two-story building with many windows, none lit. A sign on the door said the restaurant was closed.

A tall figure in a leather jacket emerged from behind the building and paused at the center of the courtyard. Harper knew it would be Theo. It had to be.

Her throat closed up. She squared her jaw, sinking deeper into that place where her rational mind took over and she felt nothing except the cool, calm touch of logic.
Or so she thought.

As soon as she found herself standing in front of him, her palm shot out and connected with his cheek. Her handprint blossomed red on his face. "You bastard," she gritted.

He said nothing, looking at her with downcast eyes. She was close enough to notice how he'd changed. The lines of his face hardened. His jaw more pronounced. The skin under the eyes darkened. But his curls... His curls were still tar-black and his forest-green eyes still shone with a witchy light and his lips were still as full as the last time she'd kissed them. It hurt her to look at him.

She spun on Wick. "And you!" She pointed a finger at his chest. "You knew. Theo was your source. This whole time, you knew."

Wick gave her a solemn look. "It wasn't my secret to tell."

If he'd slapped her, it would have stung less. She had a flash of Declan's betrayed face before she felt herself unravel, the all-consuming chaos of emotions of the past week rising to a crescendo.
She found her gaze drifting to the zippers of Theo's jacket. The stitching was coming undone on the left pocket, but he didn't know that yet. A light coating of dust clung to one sleeve, white and gray speckles that looked like dirt and sand. Her vision swam, the colors blending together into a single frequency. She could see Declan's face, the deep frown carving deeper lines between his brows. He was hurting, and she couldn't be there for him. She needed to be there for him.

She felt herself being shaken, and Declan's face dissolved into Theo's, all the sights and sounds around them rushing in at once. Harper shook her head, looking around to center herself. Theo squeezing her arms. Wick going to watch the alley a few feet away, giving them space. The gravel underneath her boots. The clear sky above. The Closed sign on the door. The purple asters swaying.

"Harper, where did you go?" said Theo, his eyes boring into her. "Stay with me."

Come back to me, another voice echoed in her mind.

She looked up at Theo and relaxed into his arms, the tension dissolving leaving her dizzy. Theo pulled her into him. He was warmth and strength from a time and a place where everything had been right, and she let herself melt into his embrace. He smelled like leather and cardamom. "I thought I'd lost you," he said, winding one hand into her hair. "They told me you died shortly after my accident."

Harper's mind flashed back to that dreadful night at Beth's when she'd told her sister to tell no one she'd seen Harper alive. She never would have thought that Theo could be the one to come looking. She shivered at the memory, as awful as ever. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you," she murmured into Theo's chest. "About all of it."

He pulled back and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. His thumb brushed away a tear rolling down her cheek, and another, and another, until he'd gotten them all. Somehow, they kept coming.

"I wish I had been wrong." He shook his head. "I wish I hadn't pulled you into this mess. I'm so sorry."

"Wait—Accident? I saw you fall. How...?"

"How am I still alive? A balcony two stories down. Broken leg, fractures in both arms, cracked rib, and a mild concussion, but I somehow pulled through. Angels must be looking after me," he glanced up in silent thanks.

Harper let out a choked sob. Tears sprung to her eyes with renewed vigor.

"Hey—hey. Don't cry. I am okay now," Theo said, kissing her forehead. His eyes were glistening as well.

But I'm not, Harper wanted to say.

They held onto each other for a long moment, reassuring themselves that the other was real. She'd lost Gerard but gotten Theo back. Why was everything in her life a trade-off?

"I don't understand one thing," she said, wiping her nose. "How are you working with Crispin? Doesn't he know?"

"It was tough, at first. When I came to and they told me I had had a concussion, I knew I had a tiny chance to recover the situation. He came to see me, in the hospital," he snorted, "no doubt to finish the job. But I told him the only thing I remembered was arguing with him because I wanted in on the scheme and then slipping and falling. I made it sound like I was trying to blackmail him."

"And he didn't smell bullshit?" Harper raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, he did. He was suspicious, but he left me in the hospital. I suspected the hit would happen as soon as I got discharged, so I had to do something about it. I gathered everything I had on him—that folder I showed you?—and took it to him."

"You did what?" Harper stepped back.

Theo continued, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You were gone—or so I thought—so I explained how it was all your work, how you'd been assembling the case against them and working with the MI6, and showing it to him made him come around. He trusts me now, probably more than anyone."

Harper's hand flew to her mouth. For all the things inside her fighting to be said, her lips stayed locked, her tongue like lead in her mouth. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

"Harper?" Theo reached for her.

She angled her body away, finally finding her voice. It came out in a whisper. "You did what?" She blinked rapidly, no longer trusting her senses. Were her ears deceiving her, or her eyes? Again, she questioned if she was losing her sanity. There was no transporter quasar around her neck, but if these were hallucinations, for all she knew, she could be locked up in a padded cell somewhere and experiencing all of this in her mind.
She pulled out a switchblade from inside her coat and flung it open.

"Harper," cautioned Theo, holding his hands out. "Don't do anything stupid."

She looked at him, glanced down at the blade in her hand, and in one swift motion sliced her palm open. She cursed at the red gash that burned like she'd grabbed a hot poker.

Theo rushed to her side, grabbing the bleeding palm between his. "What has gotten into you? Why'd you do that for?"

A weird calm descended on her. It was as if the pressure that had been building inside since she'd seen Gerard's lifeless body had been let out through the cut like invisible steam. She watched, fascinated, the drops of blood stain the gravel between them. "This whole time."

Theo looked up with a crease in his forehead. "I'm sorry?"

"This whole time," she said, her voice oddly steady, "I was hunted, because of you?" Even as she said it with all the disgust she could muster, a part of her admired the ballsiness of his move. She couldn't think of many people who'd be able to pull it off. And on Crispin, no less! It was insane and brilliant and frightening.

"This is bigger than you and me," he said, his grip tightening on her hand.

"Is it?" she spat. "And is it bigger than our—" she snapped her mouth shut and cursed under her breath. No, the bastard did not deserve to know about Aisling.

You're afraid that he would use her, too, the voice in her head said. And you have every right to be.

"Bigger than what?"

"Nothing," she snatched her hand back and held it to her chest. It was still shaking from the cut. She'd made it unfortunately deep.

Theo started toward Harper when Wick cleared his throat. When he had approached them was anyone's guess. The man was as soundless as a shadow when he wanted to be. "Hate to interrupt, but we're exposed here." He adjusted his gloves. "You've had your time, now let's talk business. We met," he glanced at Harper, "because we lost both the transporter quasar and Crispin, and we need a way back in."

Harper thought it was gracious of him to leave out the fact that it was her who'd lost both.

Wick glanced over his shoulder at the empty road, and back at Theo. "You said you had something for us?"

Theo gave Harper an uncertain look before producing an envelope. He held it up for both to see, but Harper didn't need an up-close inspection.
The gold foil stamp and salmon-colored paper told her exactly what it was: the season's most coveted invitation.
The annual Flower of Life Gala, held in historic Prague.

The paper felt heavy and luxurious in Harper's hands. She opened it to find it cordially inviting a Jessica Garcia to be guest. "Crispin will be there," said Theo.

"So will Shakti, and Ethan," added Harper with a glance at Wick. "They'd know me from a mile away. This is supremely dangerous. So why would you think—never mind. I know why." There was only one place Crispin would consider safe enough for the transporter quasar, and that was on his person. "Our quasar will be at the gala."

"The Society's Treasury will also be attending," said Theo, "to deliver a C-3 quasar to Crispin. The exchange is happening in the vaults underneath the main ballroom at quarter to midnight. And if anyone outside of Ethan and Crispin knows where the trove might be..."

"It would be Madam Treasurer," said Wick.

"And you can help us intercept her," said Harper. It wasn't a question. She blew out a frustrated breath. "I know Declan, and he will never be on board with this. And he would be well within his right to ban us from going. It's his call now."

Wick approached her. "If we don't take this chance..." He didn't need to finish. Who knows when we will get another. After the attack on the safe house, the hand of Ra was getting closer to unraveling their Vienna operation and, with it, damaging the Watcher's Order beyond recovery. They'd be ruined, and the Society of Ra would be left unchecked. Unchallenged. A virus without an antidote.

"Declan will have to understand," sighed Harper. "However, I know you're not expecting me to chat up Madam Treasurer over some pigs in a blanket and find out the location of their artifact trove. So, what's the plan?"

"There was a quasar I procured for Gerard many years ago that can help us," said Wick.
"It was a stone with interesting capabilities that, when pulverized becomes a truth serum of sorts. The powder is entirely undetectable. Extremely compulsive but expires within a minute or so."

"He's never mentioned it," mused Harper.

"There were certain things he kept close to the vest," said Wick.

Harper crossed her arms. "Like someone else I can think of."

Theo shuffled uncomfortably. Wick ignored the jab and said instead, "the last of it was put away for safekeeping in the Watcher's artifact trove. I could retrieve it. If I knew the location."

The hairs on the back of Harper's neck rose in warning. "Gerard shared that in confidence with only a select few," she said carefully. "I could go and get it."

"You could try," said Wick. "But how are you going to explain to Declan what you're doing there? I could make it look like an outside hit."

"With insider knowledge," said Harper.

"We can cross that bridge when we make it back alive."

"If we make it back," she said.

"My point exactly."

Harper rubbed her temple. The bigger question was, could Wick be trusted? Tank's betrayal. Theo's lies. Shakti turning her back on their friendship. Ethan hunting her. Those closest to her had stabbed her in the back. She began questioning not only her trust in Wick but her very judgment in people. How many times did she plan to get burned before she learned her lesson?

"Say you got the address," she said at last. "How do you two suggest we handle it? Hm?"

Theo looked at the two Watchers. "I'm still working with MI6. Agent Bradbury's team is on standby. He can mobilize a unit anywhere in Europe within a few hours."

Wick and Theo both held their breaths, looking at Harper expectantly. She was the linchpin of this entire operation.

She plucked the invitation from Theo's hand and turned to Wick, "I'll brief you on the Watcher's trove on our way back. Only you. Let's go." She turned on her heel and headed back to their vehicle, trying to put as much distance between herself and Theo as quickly as possible.

"Wait," she heard Theo behind her. He jogged over and offered a small device that looked like it had come straight from the nineties. "One-time use, one call."

She pocketed the burner phone without meeting his eyes and shut the car door.