“You might want to send out a search party for her, but that’s not the smart play.”

“I wasn’t talking about Karam,” Saxony said. “She’s a survivor and she’ll find her way back to me. I know she will.”

“Then Zekia?” Wesley asked. “If you’re doubting whether we can get her back, I’m telling you that I can get through to her.”

Whatever Zekia had done, it had been Wesley’s fault. At least partly. And it didn’t matter what the kid said to him, or even what she did to him, because Wesley knew what it was like to stand beside the Kingpin and feel infinite. To feel like his way was the only way to not get swallowed by the shadows of the realm.

He could save her, like he should’ve done all those years ago.

He could fix that mistake and give Saxony her family back.

“I’m not just talking about Zekia,” she said. “I’m talking about being honest with the people I care about. And that includes you.”

The shock must have shown on Wesley’s face, because Saxony’s eyes went suddenly wide and her entire face wrinkled.

“Not like that,” she said quickly. “That’s disturbing. I meant like family.”

Wesley found that thought equally disturbing.

“Just because we haven’t killed each other, it hardly makes us family,” he said.

Though really Wesley supposed that family, or friends, were the only people he didn’t kill. And Saxony, however irritating she chose to be, was a part of that.

Saxony didn’t say anything as she stepped a few paces closer to him, and it was only when they were near enough for Wesley to notice how many freckles she had that he took a sudden step back.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Saxony’s smile was sad.

“Being honest for once,” she said. “Malik.”

Malik.

Wesley had heard that name before. Somewhere, in the hollows of his mind, where only the darkest creatures lurked, it called to him.

Wesley took another step back.

“What did you just call me?”

“Malik,” she said again.

Wesley didn’t know why, but he winced.

“I thought my little brother was dead,” Saxony told him. “But he’s not. He’s here.”

She reached out for him, but Wesley jerked his shoulder back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Saxony didn’t stop.

“Years ago, my amja performed a spell, sacrificing our mother’s life to send you away,” she said. “They were worried about some prophecy and they punished you for it.”

“Are you drunk?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “For everything. But it’s going to be okay now.”