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Claire watched him with cautious eyes. “We? But you aren’t—”

“I owe them,” he said solemnly. “The Order has been there for me when I needed them in the past, and I have pledged to them that I am here when they need me. I meant that. I can’t go back on it.”

“What are you saying?”

“They’re down one man in Boston now. I need to step in and help them.”

“You’re going to Boston?” He didn’t know why that should make her pulse lurch the way it did, but he felt her alarm echo in his own veins. “But you’re not one of them, Andreas. You’re not a warrior, so how could they ask that of you?”

“They’ve asked nothing of me. I’ve offered them my assistance because they are my friends.”

She glanced away from him, seeming to struggle with her words. “But I thought we were … I thought, after last night, after everything we said to each other…”

He laid his hand gently on the side of her face. “It doesn’t change a thing about what we’ve shared here, or how I feel about you. I love you, Claire. But this isn’t a choice between you and them. It’s simply my duty. My honor. And if teaming with the Order to move against Dragos brings me closer to finding Roth, so much the better.”

Claire got up and paced away from him, across the room. Her shoulders were held in a tense line. Even if he hadn’t been linked to her by blood, he would have known without question that she was troubled by something deeper than anything she had said so far. “I don’t want you to go, Andre. You can’t go to Boston. Not now.”

“You had to know that neither one of us could stay here like this for long.” He moved toward her, gently turned her around to face him. “The Order is sending a vehicle. It will be here within the hour.”

“You’ll be killed,” she said, her voice cracking. “Andreas, you will die if you go to Boston. I can feel it in my heart. If this vengeance of yours doesn’t kill you, then your fury surely will.”

He lifted her chin so that she was forced to look into his eyes. “I have more reason to live than ever. I’m not looking for death, but I can’t pretend I’ll have a moment’s peace until Roth and his ilk are wiped from existence. Neither will you.”

“You can’t go,” she murmured, stubbornly refusing to hear him. When he started to shake his head in denial, she spoke with even more determination. “What if I asked you to let go of your hatred of Wilhelm Roth? What if I were to ask you to choose—”

“Don’t,” he whispered. “There is no choice for me to make here.” He smoothed her hair out of her face, feeling as though something precious were slipping through his fingers. “If I stayed now—even if I set aside my hatred of Roth—what will we do when he comes looking for us? Because he will, Claire. You know that as well as I do.”

“Then we will face him together. When and if that time comes, we’ll defeat him together.”

Reichen shook his head slowly. “This is my battle, not yours. I wouldn’t want you anywhere near when I finally get my hands on Roth. It’s far too great a risk. What do you think would happen to you if the fires inside me ignite and won’t ebb?”

God, he’d thought about that awful scenario a hundred times, beginning on that day in the farmer’s field outside Hamburg. He’d been thinking about it as recently as last night, and today, as well, when he could still feel the heated embers glowing in his belly.

How would he ever forgive himself if he brought any harm to Claire?

“I can’t risk it,” he said again, more forcefully now. “And I won’t let you risk it, either. I want you to come with me tonight to the Order’s headquarters. You’ll be protected in their compound, and you can stay there until—”

“Until when?” She closed her eyes for a long moment, as if absorbing the weight of his words. “Until you are either dead or very near to it? You want me to stand by and watch you pursue your own destruction, Andre? Now you are the one asking too much.”

He wanted to tell her that her fears were unfounded. More than anything, he wanted to promise her that he had no