She flipped her bone-handled knife in her right hand for the comfort it brought her. They’d made it clear to a number of well-placed staff members at the concert that if anyone came looking for them or for the books, they would be in Karas’s suite at the Spartan. Two guards from her team waited at each entrance, ready for any possible breach.

They had invited Miranda, but they wanted her to come on their terms, not her own.

“Just remember”—Karas glanced at the three books on the crystal coffee table—“no trade without Johnis.”

“That’s the whole point.”

Karas humphed. “Don’t think she won’t try something.”

“Which is why you have this place armed to the teeth. And we aren’t exactly helpless.” Silvie spun her knife into the air and caught it lightly in her palm.

“And if it’s Alucard who comes?” Karas bit her fingernail. “I doubt we would be a match for him.” And then she added as a muttered afterthought. “Not without a silver bullet, anyway.”

“Bring him on!” Silvie snapped. “I’m sick of this whole business!” She tried to stem the tide of emotions that flooded her mind but failed miserably.

“Look at us! We started out with visions of slaughtering the Horde to protect the forests, and that’s simple enough, right? I could cut the heads off ten of the diseased Scabs and not suffer a single wound. I was Silvie! I could kill Horde! That’s why I was chosen!”

She was yelling.

“But no, instead I followed Johnis into the desert and became a Scab!” Tears leaked down her cheek. “Instead of killing the Horde, I followed him into their city to rescue one! And then I followed him here, into hell itself. And he’s lost.” She struggled not to cry. “I’m lost, Karas.”

“You love him.” Karas came toward her.

“And does he love me?”

“Foolish question. Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

“But not enough to sacrifice his mission for me.”

Karas stilled for a moment. “So that’s it? You’re angry because he seems to put this quest to save the world ahead of you?”

She didn’t answer.

“You would sacrifice the mission for his sake, but you don’t think he would do the same for you,” Karas said. “Am I right?”

“Does it matter?”

“You said it yourself: he was chosen because of his loyalty to an idea. He doesn’t distinguish his love for you from his loyalty to Elyon. To him they are one and the same.”

She made sense, but it didn’t ease Silvie’s sadness, which she herself didn’t understand. “You’re right. I’m being childish.”