Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

On the other side of the office, Chris was carefully tending to Rupert's wounds, dabbing at the cut just above his eyebrow.

"It's nothing serious," Rupert muttered, brushing him off.

Rupert gave a low grunt and fished a cigarette from his pocket. With a flick of his lighter, he took a slow drag, letting the smoke curl up between them and thicken the room's already heavy air.

After a moment of tense silence, Chris let out a bitter laugh. “You knew Caleb was going to go after Bridget, didn't you?"

Rupert only nodded, the answer hanging in the mist of cigarette smoke.

Chris sighed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, man. I don't even have the nerve to

beg you for forgiveness anymore. I talked to my mom, too. She just feels awful— says she should've kept a better eye on Caleb."

Rupert tapped his ash into the empty mug on his desk. "Save it. Once Caleb's back, then you can apologize all you want."

Chris hesitated, recognizing the implication: Rupert still expected Caleb to return in one piece. He decided not to push further.

Still, something bothered him. "But, dude, your wedding was tighter than a Fort Knox vault. Security everywhere. How the hell did Caleb just ride in on his Harley and crash the ceremony? You let it happen, didn't you?"

Rupert finally looked up, his eyes dark and unreadable. That was all the answer Chris needed.

"What, you figured there's no better evidence than the bride eloping in front of everyone?"

"You're cold, man. Ruthless-even when it comes to yourself." Chris gave a low whistle, half in admiration, half disbelief. After a minute, he frowned. "But if you still want them both back, why let them run in the first place?"

of smoke, his gaze narrowing. "Remember that night

everything was covered?" Chris raised an eyebrow, a little defensive-the bar was his and Caleb's joint venture, though he barely showed up

into Bridget on my way to your office. She was waiting for me—had to be. Someone tipped her off. There's no way she

was someone else, besides us, helping

to turn. She'll go looking for that

idea who

He was worried about Caleb, even if he'd never admit it

didn't answer, just kept smoking, his

the subject. "So, how'd you know Freya's got proof

a steady look. "If I told you a little girl in my

He'd dreamed about that

Before either cou

say more,

burst open. Sylvia

took one look

concussion and all,

over.ne

smoking-and snatched the

from his fingers, grinding

with a scowl.

resting, not puffing away like it's a

hand still frozen in mid-air, fingers curled as if the cigarette was still there. He gave Sylvia a look, the

"Concussion? When did-"