Blair-O-Meter: Psycho-Bitch.
There were four levels to the Blair-O-Meter, and being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night for her idiot brother had launched her straight into the danger zone.
She had threatened to push Kael down a stairwell exactly six days ago. The universe with its fucked-up sense of humor was now making her save the bastard with her own blood.
She shoved through the door of a room she hadn't set foot in since she was a child.
The quarters were exactly as hideous as she suspected, which was to say exactly as ugly as Maddox's. Two brothers. One terrible aesthetic. Zero self-awareness between them. She had spent her whole life adjacent to it and it never stopped offending her.
Ox-blood leather chairs. Ugly-ass curtains. A bearskin rug with the goddamn head still attached. Blair and the rug locked eyes for a moment. Kindred spirits, the two of them. Both dead inside, both trapped in this room.
