“My father’s lawyers will be happy to support that claim.” Johan drew Krókr close, running one hand up and down its engraved handle. “As for any murders on my résumé . . . well, if Luke here has taught us anything, it’s that murder is extremely difficult to prove without a body. And there’s a lot of space in the desert to hide three corpses.”

For the first time, he saw a flash of emotion in Tera’s eyes. Fear or uncertainty, it was difficult to tell. Either way, the voices in his blood sang louder.

“It’s over,” she said again.

“No.” Johan shook his head. “It’s not.”

“I’m wired for sound. There’s a monitoring app on my phone. This entire conversation is being relayed to a police van parked nearby.” Tera’s lips twitched, accentuating the emotion in her eyes. “You should let us go, Johan.”

Xander yanked his earlobe, his escalating heart rate causing his face wounds to bleed. He looked ready to shoot everyone in the room, then fire a round into his own idiot brain. Johan calmed him with a single, cool look, then turned to Tera.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, his voice raised. “But let’s put it to the test. I’m going to have Ruben blow your fucking brains all over the floor in exactly five seconds. If, during that time, the police storm the building and come to your rescue, then I’ll know you were telling the truth.”

Johan hoisted his shoulders, dragging his ax behind him as he walked a languid circle. He held up one hand, fingers spread.

“Five . . .” He tucked in his thumb. “Four . . .”

Xander wiped blood from his face, looking everywhere at once. Ruben’s jaw was cartoon-slack but his pistol hadn’t moved. Johan snarled at them in the mad, flickering light, readying them for whatever came next. He lowered his forefinger.

“Three . . .”

The bluff hadn’t worked. Nor had she expected it to. Like so much in Tera’s life, this would come down to a fight. Just as well, then, that she always excelled with her back against the wall.

There were three targets, but she focused on just one of them: Ruben. Disarm him, and the game would change. It wouldn’t exactly be in her favor, but she’d have a fighting chance.

Johan said, “Two,” holding up his ring and pinkie fingers, and Tera pressed backward against Ruben. He was jittery, hesitant—she felt it in the closeness of his body and heard it in his breaths. He pushed her forward, as she hoped he would. Tera deliberately stumbled, dropping to one knee, which removed the pistol’s muzzle from the back of her skull. A good start.

“One.”