"He can try." There is a dark look in Mitchell's eyes as he sits gripping the edge of the bath. "I'll get someone local to put up wards. Come to some arrangement with Deacon. If they think they just can walk into this canton and take you, I will tear through them like a fucking force of nature."

It's said so quietly and purposefully. This is not the bluster of the newly recruited, but someone who knows precisely what sort of damage he can do, what kind of body count he can rack up. At their reunion, Ivan had remarked that the Box Tunnel Massacre was a piece of cake compared to Mitchell back in the day.

However, he realises that these are not the words Hasi needs to hear right now, and he shakes himself out of it. A hand goes to rest on her shoulder as he contemplates the feelings surging within him. They don't have anything like the history he had with George or Annie; they are just beginning. And he wonders, idly, if he would go to Hell and back for her, too, if the time ever comes.

(The fact that he's asking himself that means he already knows the answer).