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Broken(47)



    Zack flushed. “You’ve been spying on her? On us?”

    “Always.” Winter waited for his reaction.

    “I thought you’d given that up now that she’s been working for you for nearly a year,” Zack said.

    Old Man Winter cocked his head at an off angle. “That I keep an eye on prized assets should hardly come as a surprise to you.”

    Zack’s face got twisted, resentful. “Like I said to you months ago; I’m not telling you anything about our relationship anymore.”

    “It is true,” Winter acknowledged, “you have not been of much help lately in determining her state of mind. I have hoped that would change.”

    “Doubtful,” Zack said, gritting his teeth. “If there was any way I could find to tell her what I did when she and I first got started—if I could expose you and the fact that you’re still spying on her without completely burning my bridge to her in the process?” He looked away. “Be assured I’d do it.” There came a change over Zack’s expression. “I’m in love with her. And I won’t let anything come between the two of us nor allow any harm to come to her.”

    Old Man Winter showed little reaction. “A bold proclamation. You are the tie that binds her to this place, to us. You’ve done better than I ever would have predicted; but let us admit it, she has other friends she relies on now, a burgeoning support mechanism.”

    “Barely, now,” Zack said. “Reed and Scott gone, Kat incapacitated—I’m all she’s got left.”

    Old Man Winter didn’t flinch. “True enough.” He leaned forward. “You must speak with her on a matter of critical importance.”

    Zack’s skepticism immediately showed. “What?”

    Old Man Winter’s eyes flickered. “Her reluctance to kill is becoming a liability.”

    Zack snorted. “You talk about her in terms of assets and liabilities, like she’s just some number on a balance sheet that needs to be shifted around.” He glared at Winter. “If she’s that easy to figure out, why not shift her into the ‘kill’ column yourself?” He waited for a response. “You know why you can’t?”

    Winter gave no hint of emotion. “She has fears—”

    “It’s not that,” Zack said with a smug smile. “You’ll never guess, probably because you were never like her.” The smile faded, replaced with an almost haunted look. “It’s because she’s got a good heart.” He smiled again, bitterly this time. “Cheesy as that sounds, everything done to her over the years just damaged the surface; it didn’t kill off her ability to feel. She looks in the eyes of people and she still feels like they’re people, not just items under her control. In spite of what everyone’s tried to do to her, in spite of that snarky defense mechanism she fires off every few seconds that keeps almost everyone at a distance, she cares more about people than I think you ever did.” Zack folded his arms. “You probably don’t understand that, though.”

    Winter took a long breath, and when he breathed it out the air in front of him frosted. “Better than you know.”

    “I don’t want her to be a killer,” Zack said, staring him down. “I don’t want her to be like you—like us, always seeing people in the way they can be moved, pushed or taken out of the way if needed. I want her to be herself. I want her to keep being herself—good heart and all. Killing a person coarsens you in ways she shouldn’t have to experience .” He glared at Winter. “I bet if you do it enough, you can just about lose your whole soul.”

    Whatever might have been said next was lost as a sudden flash lit the windows. The lights blinked off then on and finally went dead. There was an explosion outside and the building shook, and Zack’s gun was in his hand even as Old Man Winter was on his feet. Steps were audible outside the office and Ariadne was there a moment later, along with M-Squad—all of whom must have been in her office. I looked at the faces of them—Bastian and Parks solemn, Clary a little excited, and Eve emotionless—the faces of people who were now dead, people that I’d killed.

    “It’s starting,” Parks said, rather futilely, I thought. Another explosion followed his words, the fixtures of headquarters rattling in the shockwave. “They’re here.”