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to Walt, but held his tongue. It was one thing to start talking more in front of other people, another to say something ridiculous and fanciful about emotions being like kettles in front of strangers.

On the monitor, they saw Vadisk and Annalise walk into the room. Annalise helped her get up, then the three of them left—taking Ava to the bathroom—returning ten minutes later. While they were off screen, Eric seemed to calm a bit.

Once back in the room, Annalise handed the other woman a breakfast bar and some water, chatting quietly all the while, her voice calm and steady through the small concealed mic and earpiece she wore.

“I’d like to know more about what you do,” Annalise said. “Orthopedic surgeon. You fix broken bones?”

Everyone settled into place either in chairs or leaning against the walls. The man who’d been in the hall was holding an ice pack to his ribs. The room had the air of people prepared to wait and watch.

The Fleet Admiral’s next words changed that.

“She killed Josephine.” Eric’s low snarl brought everyone to their feet. “She raped her, murdered her, and then left her head in a fucking basket.”

He turned to the door and managed four purposeful strides before someone jumped into his path.

The only one insane enough to do something that stupid was Nikolett.

“Fleet Admiral,” Nikolett snapped, planting herself in front of him, her eyes wide. “I understand that this is personal for you, but we need her alive to question her. We, I, need to know more about what Petro did. Who else he hurt, who else may still be out there waiting to hurt us.” She put her hands out, settling them on Eric’s chest. He paused, looking down at her, and for a moment, the rage that had transformed his face faded.

“Eric,” Nikolett murmured. “Please listen. Don’t do this.”

Eric reached out, hesitating for a moment, and then letting his hands settle on her upper arms. For a second he almost seemed to be caressing her, and Nikolett said something, whispering so low that no one could hear. Eric stared down at her, thumbs rubbing her shoulders…

And then Eric’s grip tightened, he lifted Nikolett off her feet and set her to the side, then stalked out the door.

Nikolett spun the minute he put her down and managed to get her hands on Eric, grabbing his forearm. Eric shook her off without breaking stride.

“Grab him,” Nikolett ordered, for the first time a hint of fear in her words. “Later, he’ll thank us for making sure he doesn’t kill her.”

The knights and security officers obeyed their admiral, streaking out after Eric. Jakob had started moving the instant he saw Eric’s hands tighten on Nikolett’s arms. As a result, he was only half a step behind the knights near the door, and two steps behind Eric. As they sprinted down the hall, Jakob nearly pulled even with Eric.

The safe room was off a short connecting hall, and since Eric didn’t know that, he shot past it, catching sight of Vadisk standing guard outside the door too late to change course. Jakob slapped a hand against the corner so he could take it at speed, whipping around, shoes slipping on the unfinished concrete subfloor.

Vadisk was already at attention, clearly having heard the sounds of running feet.

Jakob didn’t bother to say anything, figuring Vadisk was smart enough to figure it out. Instead, Jakob shot past him slapping his hands on the door. Because it was meant to be a safe room, there was no lock on the outside, and since they didn’t want Ava locking them out, the internal lock had been disabled. That hadn’t been an issue because Nikolett had pairs of people stationed outside all night as guards.

But now it meant there was no way to keep Eric out of the room, and Annalise was inside. Annalise, who was still brave, even if she didn’t think about herself that way. If Annalise saw an enraged Eric burst into the room, she might put herself between Eric and Ava.

Jakob was going to get into the room before the fleet admiral. And he was going to protect Annalise. Ava…well, there were plenty of other people who could stop the fleet admiral from murdering her. This wasn’t Jakob’s territory. He had no obligation to make sure the prisoner was treated fairly.

Or kept alive.

Vadisk stepped forward to meet Eric, his shoulder turned and lowered like a rugby player.

Meanwhile, Jakob burst through the saferoom door.

Annalise, who’d pulled her chair around so she was close enough to Ava to have her hand on the other woman’s shoulder, jumped to her feet. As Jakob had feared, she stepped between the door and the insane serial killer. Jakob had too much momentum to stop, so he reached out, grabbed Annalise’s arm, and yanked her to the side. He heard her gasp, knew he’d grabbed the arm with the bruised shoulder. The chair clattered as she caught her hip on it, knocking it to the floor.

He turned so when they hit the long wall with the built-in counter, he took the brunt of the blow. He was going to have a long line bruise on his butt. Maybe Walt would kiss it better. Annalise thumped into his chest a second later. Jakob wrapped his arms around her and then spun, his back to the door, his body between hers and danger.

There was the sound of fists thudding from outside the door.

“What’s happening?” Ava sounded scared, and chain clanked as she moved around.

Right. Better not turn his back to the insane serial killer. He had no desire to have her wearing his face after she peeled the skin off his skull. Jakob turned, sandwiching Annalise between his back and the counter.

“Jakob, what’s going on?” Annalise asked in breathless German.

“Der Flottenadmiral ist hier.”

Annalise sucked in a breath, realizing in an instant how the situation had changed.

Jakob pinned Ava with his stare, hoping his expression conveyed his utter ambivalence as to whether she lived or died, and his

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