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He knew.
The look on his face—he knew he had a monster inside him.
More than memories.
He’d led me on. He’d lied to me.
The realization stretched the moment between us.
Somehow the car started. Somehow I hit the gas. Somehow Val hadn’t moved off the porch yet.
Tires screeched against the gravel. I didn’t look back.
My phone beeped. I didn’t want to look—Harry, the tentacles, the spiders...the thing inside Val was their fucking king.
My phone beeped again, this time I gave in.
Your man was in the CIA but was booted for some unsavory conduct. File looks odd. Like a cover story. Like he’s hiding something. I’d keep away from him.
Chester.
At least someone out there had my back.
CHAPTER22
Val
Watching Zara drive off,I reached over my shoulder and tried to feel the wound on my back. The cut didn’t hurt, just like the one I’d had on my hand. There was something wrong about that. I stared down where the bandage had been, at the new pink flesh. Healed, when there had been bone. From Zara’s reaction, I guessed she’d seen something, and I was betting that something had been black. Her reaction had been panic instead of concern.
Had it triggered a memory?
My attention remained pinned where the car had disappeared into the distance. It had taken all my discipline to let her go. Now was not the time for talking.
Not when she was like that.
Not when her leaving had flicked a switch—aggression simmered in my veins.
Residual testosterone from the fight?
I didn’t explore it further; my mind was on the hunt. I glanced down at her bag on the floor—she had my car but no wallet...she wasn’t going to get very far.
I addressed my leech.
Knock-knock, Sunshine, she knows you’re there.
The thing remained quiet. It’d been that way since the dynamic twins had arrived. Perhaps those two had scared it. Would they have tried to kill me if they knew? That’s what they did for a living, right?
The question wascouldthey kill it, andifthey killed the leech, would I survive it?
No, I needed Zara. I needed her memories. I needed her knife.
As if the monster and I finally had an agreement, the flintlock ball in my belly pulsated cold. I dug my fingers into my stomach muscles and leaned in to lessen the pain. Whatever the ball was meant to do, the thing inside me didn’t want it. That much I knew. And that made it valuable. Even if a brain MRI couldn’t show the leech, it might show the ball.
Dead quiet. No snark, not even misdirection.
Strong and silent.
“You think you’re tough,” I muttered. “I haven’t begun to fight you yet.”
