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... it rest there, solid in his palm, fingers curled around the ceramic like an excuse.

The others were still inside the safehouse. Quiet. Distant. Callen was half-asleep on the couch, still pretending not to wince every time he shifted.

Mira had finally sat down near the mana rig, her bow propped against the wall at an angle that said don’t touch me.

Senna had taken up residence by the window, watching the street like she expected it to blink wrong.

Taira stood in t ...

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