Damen's words were more promise than threat even as they felt strange on his tongue. Months ago, Laurent would not have raised a finger to help him. Months ago, Laurent might have helped, in fact. Here, Damen was of no use to Laurent, after all.

A chilling thought struck Damen in that moment: the notion that Laurent was at the heart of this attack, that Dutch's blade pressed to his skin by Laurent's bidding.

It would hardly be the first time Damen had been betrayed by a lover.

His heart seized in his chest just as Dutch trailed the tip of the knife to his ear, pressing now not hard enough to break skin, but nearly. 'Not good enough wouldn't wear about your neck like a pendant?' he replied, an attempt to ignore the fresh wave of unease clawing at his throat. 'Think I'm insulted.'