Ty continued to look at Julian, the anger and combativeness leaching out of his expression to leave him staring impassively. Not only had he gotten control of his temper, it had disappeared. Zane had never seen his partner like this.

“You call me a monster,” Julian said, voice low. “At least I know what I am.”

“I know what you are you too,” Ty whispered back, not acknowledging the hit in any way.

The room fell into tense silence. Zane shifted his eyes toward Ty and waited. But Ty stood staring at Julian, face expressionless and body relaxed. He neither looked Zane’s way nor even acknowledged that he and Cameron were there. It was like waiting for two dogs to fight, sensing that they were about to lunge and being helpless to stop it. Zane walked in a half circle to put himself in Ty’s line of sight, perhaps six feet away. Until Ty came out of whatever headspace this was, it was better not to get too close.

Julian sensed him moving, and he gave Ty one last disdainful look and moved to sit beside Cameron on the end of the king-size bed.

All three of them watched Ty expectantly, and Ty stood glaring at them all. It was time for some kind of explanation. Zane could imagine Julian making something like that up; it would serve the purpose of driving a wedge of suspicion between Ty and Zane if they began fighting over it. It was a classic psychological technique. But Zane’s gut told him that it felt like the truth.

Ty’s eyes moved to meet his. His jaw tightened and he squared his shoulders, as if expecting Zane to launch his own attack. Instead, Zane slid one hand into a pocket and held out the other, palm up. He didn’t want to fight about it. He just wanted to know; to know if Ty was in danger, to know if they were in danger because of this. As much as being kept in the dark pissed him off, Zane knew better than to demand answers from his lover and partner, especially in front of Julian and Cameron. That was a quick trip to an ass-kicking. Or worse, a stonewalling.

“Go ahead,” Ty said, his voice grim.

Zane tried to keep his voice calm. “Do you want to fight? Because I don’t. But there’s a lot of numbers not adding up, and you know me and numbers.”

“I don’t want to fight,” Ty answered. His eyes shifted to Julian again, a spark of anger in them.

“Then forget about him and focus on me,” Zane said, letting his hand start to lower.

Ty looked back and raised his chin. “I swear to you, Zane, I’d never seen him before this case.”

“You’re a bloody liar,” Julian muttered.

When Zane met those hazel eyes, he tried to see what Julian must have seen, but he just didn’t. All he saw was the man he knew and loved telling him the truth. Everything in Zane confirmed it. “Then that means he’s seen you. In Paris?”

“I’ve never been to Paris.”

“Don’t let him lie to you, Agent Garrett,” Julian said.

“Shut up,” Zane snapped.

Ty lowered his head, but his eyes remained on Zane’s. It gave him a predatory look.

Zane knew that Ty was wound up too tight about this for it to be a simple matter. “This is one of those things you can’t tell me about. That’s crystal clear.”

Ty exhaled sharply and turned away, running his hand through his hair as he headed for the door. Ty always aimed for open space when he was agitated, windows and doors and balconies. Like he was making certain he had an escape route. Only now it struck Zane as Ty wanting to get away from him.

Zane took a step to go after him.

Ty swept his hand out and grabbed the lamp off the dresser, then turned, ripping the cord from the base, and threw it against the nearest wall with a wordless shout of frustration that was lost in the shattering of the ceramic.

Zane flinched but didn’t move. Julian stood but remained by the bed, where Cameron sat cringing away from the debris. Zane took a step toward them. It registered with him that he was afraid of what Ty was going to do, because Zane couldn’t tell, and he’d gotten pretty adept at that. This was just one of so many unspoken truths between them. Maybe Ty feared them as much as Zane did.

“Goddammit, Zane!” Ty shouted as he continued to pace like a caged animal. As he ranted he waved one hand in the air, pointing accusingly at Zane and Julian and even Cameron as he did so. “What are the fucking odds of him knowing me? I worked that job for eighteen months without so much as a hint of trouble, and now of all people it’s that fucking Irishman that’s going to get that cover blown. Why couldn’t you have just let me shoot him like I wanted to in the first place?”

Zane’s brows rose higher the longer Ty ranted, and that rigid ball in his chest relaxed. If Ty could yell, it would be okay. It always was. What he was saying didn’t help Zane feel any better, though. “Nothing’s blown.”

“Everything is blown! Forget whatever Burns wants with him, Zane! He knows me from Paris, and he just made me as a Fed!”

“Who is he going to tell? Who’ll believe him?”

“Hey!” Julian said, affronted.

“Don’t borrow trouble. We have enough as it is,” Zane continued as he waved a hand at Julian.

Ty was silent; Zane couldn’t even hear him breathing.

“Don’t consider a year and a half of work thrown away before you know for sure,” Zane said. “You’re too fucking good at… whatever the hell it is you’ve been doing… to just chuck it because of one asshole with a bad accent.”

“Hey!” Julian repeated.

Zane turned to face him as Julian took a step toward him. He realized their mistake too late. They had let themselves get pulled into an argument and dropped their guard before Julian was fully secured.

He attacked without further warning, launching himself at Zane and knocking them both to the ground. Zane heard Cameron cry out. Julian’s body was solid and heavy on his as Zane hit the ground hard. Zane rolled as soon as his back hit the floor, flipping them over and kicking Julian over his head. He barely had time to gain his knees before Julian hit him from behind. They rolled across the floor.

Zane landed on his back again, Julian pinning him. He managed a jab to Zane’s ribs, and he pulled his fist back again, aiming for a blow to Zane’s temple that was sure to knock out the lights.

Zane flicked a wrist and a knife shot from its sheath. He palmed it, prepared to do real damage to Julian’s midsection.

Ty stepped into his vision, catching Julian’s fist in one palm before it could land against Zane’s face. He twisted Julian’s arm, and Julian arched his back and shouted in pain and anger. Ty turned gracefully until he was kneeling behind Julian with one arm wrapped around his neck, the other twisting Julian’s hand back and up.

“Stop! Please!” Cameron cried as he stood up and stepped forward.

Zane pushed himself off the floor and grabbed Cameron, holding him back as they both watched Julian struggle against Ty’s arms.

Ty clasped his hands together over Julian’s shoulder, closing the choke hold as Julian tried to reach his face to find something tender to jab his thumb into. Ty closed his eyes and lowered his head, hiding his face against Julian’s neck, making it almost seem intimate. They were too close for Julian to hurt Ty enough to loosen his grip. His elbows landed uselessly on hard muscle, his fists hit Ty’s hips instead of his groin. Ty was too heavy and too low for Julian to flip over his shoulder.

Zane realized that Ty was whispering to Julian as he tightened the chokehold. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he was repeating to Julian even as he rendered him unconscious.

“He’s killing him!”

“No,” Zane said in a hoarse voice.

There was something fascinating and morbidly beautiful about watching it, though. Ty held tight to the larger man, wrapping him up, head bowed and expression calm when he opened his eyes again. It was perhaps the first time Zane had ever seen Ty’s eyes go blank like that; he seemed almost meditative. Zen-like.

Julian tried to duck his head, attempting to open his airway, but Ty had closed the hold too quickly. After a few more seconds of struggling, Julian’s body went limp. Ty continued to hold him for another few breaths, and then he released him and let him thump to the ground. When he stood he looked up at them, meeting Zane’s eyes. Everything about Ty, from his body to the look in his eyes, felt calm and still.

It was like seeing a new person.

“Oh God,” Cameron whispered. Zane let him go. He fell on Julian, taking his face between his hands and calling to him.

“He’ll be fine,” Ty muttered. He stood stock-still, staring at Zane. The stillness was unnerving; Ty was never still. He fidgeted and paced and vibrated and bounced and twitched and rocked when there was no other outlet for all the nervous energy he stored up. But now he was so still it was like looking at a statue.

Zane closed his eyes and counted heartbeats, just breathing, trying to hold onto composure that was cracking. Ty was scaring him, and Zane had no idea what to do about it.

“You’re right,” Ty said, the words stirring the tension in the air and cutting through it.

Zane blinked his eyes open and raised his head to look at Ty. He was still standing motionless, hands at his sides. He was looking down and his lips were parted, tongue pushing against the corner of his mouth as if he was deep in thought. Zane had seen the expression before, right before copiers started blowing up. He statistically had a very small percentage of heading that off, but Zane didn’t know if he was up to it with so much uncertainty suddenly flowing between them.

“Well,” Zane said with forced lightness, “the extent of my French is voulez-vous coucher avec moi and ménage à trois, so I hope you won’t consider me a threat.”

Ty looked up at him, his expression one of clear calculation. It passed and his shoulders slumped. “Don’t be like that, Zane, come on. You had to know the kind of stuff I was up to on some level. And I haven’t worked a job since we got assigned together.”

Zane sighed. “Of course I did, Ty.” He was sure Ty had no idea how much Zane knew about that kind of stuff. He shifted his weight back and forth, trying to shake off the discomfort this entire week had caused.

“Will someone please tell me what just happened?” Cameron shouted, his voice high and wavering.

Ty shook his head, looking down at Cameron and Julian’s limp form. “He’ll be awake in five minutes.”

“What the hell did you do to him?”

“Blood choke. Cut off blood flow to his brain. He’ll be fine.”

“Ty,” Zane said in a whisper.

Ty looked back at him, his expression softening. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. Me too.”

Ty frowned. “What for?”

Zane shrugged. “Either for letting the secrets go on so long or for pushing about it now, I’m not sure. Either way, it puts you in a bad spot.”

“Excuse me, can one of you please help me here!” Cameron said as he lifted Julian’s head off the ground.

Ty rolled his eyes and bent to shoo Cameron’s hands away. “Zane.”

Zane moved closer, bending to help Ty lift the unconscious prisoner onto the bed. The man was solid and a deadweight, way too heavy for his frame. “Jesus, he’s made of granite,” Zane said in a strained voice.

Ty grunted in agreement as they flopped him onto the bed. “Bungee cords,” he said, breathless.

Zane went to get them, and he could hear Cameron’s tremulous voice, asking Ty questions and demanding more satisfactory answers than Ty was giving.

“You know if it was you, you’d be trying to escape too!” he was shouting as Zane came back into the room.

Ty’s eyes flashed dangerously as he squared his shoulders on Cameron, and Zane stepped between them.

“Cool it. Get comfortable. We’ll tie you two up together tonight,” he said, hoping the consolation prize would keep Cameron from squawking all night about his “dead” boyfriend. They made a cursory job of tying Julian and Cameron down, then Zane grabbed Ty’s elbow and dragged him out of the room.

“Okay, talk,” he demanded, unwilling to let it stew any longer.

Ty nodded, and his eyes shifted to the side to glance at the bedroom door before he looked back at Zane. “This is one of the things I wanted to tell you when we got home,” he said in a low voice. “It wasn’t my call to be able to tell you before. I wanted to, Zane, I don’t like keeping secrets. But I couldn’t.”

“So what’s so different about now?”

“Well, for one, I wasn’t the one who spilled it.”

“Granted. What about when we got home?”

Ty sighed. “While I was on the road I decided I didn’t give a damn anymore. I’m not keeping anything from you from now on. I don’t care if it’s classified.”

Something inside Zane started doing a Snoopy dance at Ty’s words. He studied Ty for a long moment before saying, “I trust you.”

“I know. That’s what made it so hard.” He stood there for another moment, leaning forward as if perched on a precipice. Then he shook himself and reached for his gun. He drew it out of its holster and checked the magazine as he strode toward the bedroom. Zane blinked after him for a moment before jumping in front of him. He took Ty by the arm and swung him around, getting between him and the door. “Whoa, Bulldog. That’s not going to help.” Zane paused. “Well, okay, it would help you feel better. But it wouldn’t help the situation here and now, and it certainly wouldn’t help any situation later.”

“I disagree,” Ty said in a calm voice.

“I am sure you do,” Zane said, keeping one hand on Ty’s forearm, not holding, not squeezing.