The squeal of tires against the street brings my head up. I dig through the assassin’s pouch as Broderick screeches to a halt next to me. It takes a few seconds to find another vial filled with green liquid identical to the first one and then I run to the truck and yank open the door. “I have the antidote.”

He’s too pale, the lines bracketing his mouth looking deeper than I’ve ever seen them. “Are you sure it’s the right one?”

“As sure as I can be.” I wait a beat, but he doesn’t try to stop me as I reach for Shiloh’s limp form and carefully tilt her head back. “Hang in there, Shiloh. This won’t be comfortable.” I drag in a breath. “She’s still breathing, but I don’t want to take any chances. Pour it in while I help her swallow.”

“Okay.” He takes the vial from me, and I hold her mouth open as Broderick dumps it down her throat. Then I do my best to ensure all the antidote actually makes it to her stomach.

“Please don’t be too late. Come on, love. Come back to us.”

Time ceases to have meaning as we watch her, waiting to see if the antidote works. A million things flash through my mind in those short minutes. The possibility that the assassin faked me out. The implications of a Mystic this far inside Amazon territory. How desperately I don’t want to make Shiloh choose between me and Broderick.

Because she will wake up, damn it.

“Shiloh…” My voice breaks. “Gods, this is so fucked up.”

Broderick takes my hand. He’s obviously just as terrified as I am, but he’s still so fucking steady, still offering support even when he needs it just as badly as I do. I can’t stop shaking. “What if—”

“She’ll wake up.” He says it quietly. Firmly. “Give it time.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“You did good, Monroe. That was quick thinking to get the antidote.” His thumb ghosts over my knuckles. Only a fine tremor in his hand lets me know he’s just as fucked up over this as I am. “How the hell did you catch up to them so fast?”

“I’m a bad bitch.” I try to smile, but I can’t quite pull it off. “They don’t get to come here on my territory and fuck with my people.” I look down at Shiloh, measuring her slow inhales and exhales. “I don’t care if she’s an Amazon or not, Broderick. She’s mine.” I meet his gaze. “She’s ours.”

“Yeah. She is.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “We—”

Shiloh drags in a ragged breath and whimpers. “Fuck, that hurts.”