Adam's laugh tried to come again and failed halfway, caught in his throat like a hook that wouldn't set. He stared at Max for a beat, then looked past him - at the warded window, the pale ether lamps in the courtyard, and the way the light made everything look clean enough to pretend history had been washed.
He didn't like Max.
He didn't like how easily he could say ugly things without flinching. He didn't like that he was right about too much of it.
But he also didn't like the alternative Max had implied - the faceless someone else, eager, naïve, and easier to kill.
Adam drew a slow breath in through his nose, exhaled through his mouth, and forced the words out with a calm he didn't entirely feel.
"Fine," he said. "I'll think about it."
Max paused.
Because that was the answer of a man who understood the stakes and still wanted the dignity of pretending choice was real.
"How long?" Max asked, voice even.
Adam's eyes narrowed. "As long as I need."
