15. Ellie #3
He doesn’t answer. He goes back to the code, the rhythmic click of the keys a physical barrier between us.
“Jackson?”
"I don’t know, Ellie." He still won’t look at me. "Above my pay grade."
Liar.
The evasion makes something cold settle in my stomach. They all know something. Have known since they walked into my house.
The thought of being killed in an assault was one thing. Being taken for interrogation by people like the Order is something far, far worse.
When Killian, Gabriel, and Kai return, blood-spattered but intact, Jackson updates them on the intercepted comms. Killian's jaw clenches so hard I hear his teeth grind together. Those storm-gray eyes shift. Lighten to something almost silver with murderous intent. Almost inhuman. Reflective, like an animal’s eyes catching light.
He catches the back of my neck, pulling me into his space until the heat of him is the only thing I can feel.
“You should be terrified of what I am, Ellie,” he rasps, and the words vibrate against my skin.
“But you also need to understand one thing: the only reason I haven't burned this entire fucking world to the ground is because you’re still standing in it.”
I swallow hard, my throat feeling like sandpaper. He means it. Every word. And I don’t run.
For a split second, he doesn’t look like Killian. He doesn’t look like a man at all.
Then he blinks. And just like that, he's human again. But I saw it.
The thing underneath.
"This changes everything," he says, voice dangerously quiet. "We need a new plan."
He doesn’t look at me when he says it.
That’s worse than if he had.
"If they want her alive, they'll be using non-lethals in the first wave," Gabriel says, his eyes fixed on the blueprints. "Flash-bangs, zip-ties. They'll be overconfident."
"I'll give them plenty to be overconfident about," Jackson adds, his fingers flying across the keys. "I'll jam the signals. Feed them bullshit loop."
"And we need a backup plan if these assholes get through," Kai says, looking up from the map spread across the table.
I listen, contributing where I can. My mind keeps returning to the same thing: the Order thinks I know something. Something worth all of this.
The others scatter. Gabriel to the perimeter. Kai to the tunnels. Jackson back to his screens.
Killian stays.
"You know what they think I have, don't you?" I ask directly.
His eyes meet mine. For a second, I see him fighting with himself.
"I have suspicions."
"About my father's research?" I press. "About what he was investigating before he died?"
"Ellie," he begins, then stops, clearly struggling with what to say.
"You know more than you're telling me," I state, not a question but a clarification.
His jaw tightens, a muscle ticking hard enough to see through the blood and dirt drying across his face. "What matters right now is keeping you safe. After that…" He doesn't finish the sentence.
"After that, no more secrets," I insist, my voice cracking despite my resolve. "Whatever you're hiding about my father, about why the Order wants me, I deserve to know."
He says nothing. He leans in until our foreheads touch, the weight of whatever he’s hiding pressing into the small space between us. He opens his mouth, but the words don't come.
The house shudders. A thud from the far side of the house shatters the moment into a thousand pieces.
"Yes. You do." His jaw tightens. "But not tonight."
He's deflecting, and we both know it. But before I can press further, Jackson's voice cuts through the tension.
"They're on the move," Jackson calls out, his voice cutting through our conversation. "All sides. Shit's about to get real."
Killian and I return to the screen, where thermal imaging shows more than a dozen red figures surrounding the property, fanning out through the dark. This is it.
Oh, fuck.
"Places, people," Killian calls out, his voice steady despite the imminent danger. "Remember, they want her alive, not dead. Use that against the fuckers."
As the guys disperse, Killian turns to me one last time, his thumb traces my cheekbone.
"They won’t take you."
My heart slams against my ribs. "Killian."
"No matter what happens." His forehead presses against mine. His thumb digs into my jaw hard enough to bruise. Again. "They won’t fucking take you. I won’t let them. Understand?"
I can smell gunpowder. Coffee. Sweat. Blood that isn’t his.
"Even if it means killing every single one of them," he says, voice dropping. "Even if it means burning this property down with them in it."
An explosion shakes the house. Closer. Cell 7 is breaching the outer defenses.
Minutes. We have minutes.
"I understand." My fingers twist in his vest. "But if they know something about my father?"
"Later." His thumb drags across my bottom lip. "Let me keep you alive first."
He pulls back. His eyes are storm-gray again.
Like nothing ever happened.
But I saw it minutes ago. That silver flash. The thing underneath the man.
Whatever I saw should terrify me, but it doesn’t. I hold onto his vest. Hold on to him.
Because right now, the monster is on my side.