“I wouldn’t be too quick to say that.”
“Why?”
Dante grins to himself before shaking his head as if he’s already said far too much.
“Enough about Seven. I need to know what happened between you and Luci.”
The promise I made with Luci suddenly comes racing to the forefront of my mind. For a second, I contemplate breaking it as I meet Dante’s eyes.
No, Evelyn.
These men are not to be trusted. Remember what you found in the darkroom. Remember what they’ve put you through.
Breaking this promise could very well be the death of you.
Don’t let a few moments of passion distract you from your goal … to save your family and bring these men down once and for all.
Sighing, I tell Dante about my restless sleep and how Luci persuaded me that he needed my heat, while being careful to leave out the detail about his seizures. I have to focus on the glass of water in my hands again as I try to recount the morning while giving him as little information as possible.
I frown as I finish, not quite remembering the few minutes around the time when I passed out.
Dante doesn’t say anything for some minutes as he leans back in his chair, and I force myself not to look up at him as I wait for him to speak.
“Thank you, Evi. You’ve been a great help.”
“Really.”
“Yes, Seven and I … Well, just know that you’ve eased my mind,” Dante says, and I suddenly feel guilty for not telling him about Luci’s seizures, but feign a smile as he rises from his chair.
“Do your worries about Luci have anything to do with Valentine?” I ask.
“Not particularly, why?”
“I tried to ask Luci more about him and what I’m supposed to do, but he was quite cagey. He pretty much just told me I needed to ask you if I wanted to know more.”
“I see. Ask me your questions.”
I blink at this, my mind suddenly a chaotic mess as questions fight each other in an effort to be the first to tumble from my lips.
“Exactly how dangerous is this mission you’re sending me on? Why me? What am I supposed to accomplish there? How will—”
Dante holds up a hand to cut me off, obviously regretting opening this line of conversation with me.
“One question at a time.”
Taking a deep breath, I restart.
“How dangerous is what you’re asking me to do?”
“It depends on how well you adapt the training.”
“Please just level with me,” I say, looking up to meet Dante’s eyes as he steps closer.
“Nothing is certain,” he says. “I have no intention of allowing you to come to harm, but I cannot promise your safety … or that you’ll even come out alive. If I did not think it absolutely necessary, I wouldn’t send you to my father at all.”
“Why is it necessary then? Why can’t you deal with him?”
Dante looks away and then moves to sit on the edge of the bed next to me.