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“Jesus.” I look up at the night sky.
She touches my arm. “I notice things, trained that way. And . . . I think she’s good for you.”
“Go home, Wendy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Suddenly, I’m down to the marrow tired. Fucking tired. I turn, go inside, and check the alarms and locks. Not that I think someone’s coming in and doing anything. Not because if they do, I’ll be overwhelmed. But because it’s something to do.
Karlee’s standing there, looking lost, a little drowned. I just go to her, right or fucking wrong, I fold her in my arms and hold her. “I never even spoke to your friend, Karlee.”
“I . . . I didn’t think you would do that. I guess Wendy told you?”
“Yeah.” She feels right, like she’s made to fit, so warm, perfect, and soft. I breathe in the scent of her shampoo. It’s a happy, spicy scent, slightly different from the rose of her skin, but good.
Reluctantly, I let her go. All I do is send mixed signals, and it isn’t right. It’s not fair, and I confuse even myself. Right now, I need all of my senses focused.
She looks at me.
“They live, Karlee.” Her question’s bright. “We just scared them a little, we didn’t get anything more, but they’re our guests for a while longer. Until this is sorted.”
“What’s the plan?”
“You go and nap, and I’m not really sure.”
It’s sort of a lie. I’m pretty fucking sure this is headed to breaking point, but I have to make calls. Karlee doesn’t nod, and she goes off into my room.
When I check on her later, she’s curled beneath the covers, sleeping, and I sigh. I should have stopped her, I guess, but I’m not actually going to bed. It’s also a lot more comfortable than the one in the spare room.
Closing the door, I head to the living room and start making calls.
So, O’Grady’s back in town officially, or let it be known, I don’t give a fuck. Leo is going to reach out, apparently. As it is, thepieces are still pieces. But with trouble in quashed in the East, trouble hitting Arizona—not for us, but a general thing, along with everything else, we need to come up with a fucking plan.
I should go and see Fallon, but things are maybe too hot. If he hasn’t given up anything or given up the minuscule, he knows about my concerns, then he either doesn’t have anything more, or it’s not relevant.
Christian’s for shooting first and maybe asking never. I know there’s something I’m fucking missing, the one thing that’ll slot the things into place and make sense.
I feel it, from day fucking one when Nicolo walked into Lowlander territory and got himself a sweet little thing, that something bad is up and happening on our doorstep.
It’s proving it without making shit worse that has been the problem. With girls missing, a group we don’t know threatening and blockades and price hikes happening to people who aren’t us, it’s time to start talking to the other big player, maybe the one behind it. Mr. Lowlander himself, O’Grady.
It’s one a.m. when my phone rings. “What is it, Frank?”
I listen with growing fury and a little unease. When I get off the phone, I start getting shit together, all the important things and the weapons I might need. I call Diego and Nicolo, and then I turn because the pressure in the living room has changed.
Karlee’s there, rumpled, pale, and maybe a little withdrawn. I can’t think of that now.
“Get your shit, the important shit, computers, drives, whatever . . . actually, just pack your bags with everything.”
I’m half distracted as Nicolo talks to me on the phone. I hang up and glance at her, ready to bark the order again, when I take in the stricken expression.
“Karlee, it’s important. We need to move.”
“We?”
“Yeah, we. Things are happening, and I need you at the safest place I know.”
It doesn’t take her long, and when we’re in the car, the house locked and alarms set, we roll on out to the De Luca mansion.
Karlee sits, eyes on the window, and I’m not sure if she’s watching the world outside or the ghostly reflections of us. I guess it doesn’t matter. The air’s heavy, too heavy, because we both know what’s coming.
