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“At some point, that doesn’t matter anymore.”
“He really wants to support you. I’m not saying he’s doing it in the right way, but he loves you and he wants the best for you. If you brought home a male you—”
“Oh, I’m not bringing the one I’m with home. Like I said, Father already hates him. He made that amply clear last night. The good news is the guy I like doesn’t give a shit.”
Well, at least she could assume he didn’t based on how they’d ended up in that bed upstairs—
“Nate.” Bella almost kept the wince to herself. “I heard.”
“Spare me the lecture. You don’t know him like I do.”
“What I’m worried about is that you don’t know the real him, either.” Hermahmenput her palm up. “But I’m not going to argue with you about your feelings—”
“Of course not. Because, as always, it’s about my father for you. Not me.”
Bella’s eyes narrowed and got hard. “I didnotraise you to speak to me like that.” When Nalla opened her mouth to argue, that voice got downright stern. “And fine, you want to talk about your father? Okay, let’s talk. Do you know where he is right now?”
“Working.”
“Fighting.In the war.” Hermahmenpointed to the nearest window. “He’s out there, in the night, where things that aren’t alive want to kill him. He’s not sitting behind a desk. He’s not on vacation. He’s using guns and daggers to protect our species—and half of his mind is on you right now. Where you are. Whether you’re okay. What’s wrong. How to fix it. That kind of distraction could kill him—and he was my true love before he ever was your father. So you’re goddamn right I came over here to check on you, and I will not apologize for worrying about him while he’s in the field. You may think it’s the height of insensitivity, but I’d like myhellrento come home in one piece at the end of the night—instead of on a slab. And P.S., you’re my daughter, so part ofmeis inyou, too, so yes, I’m equally as worried about you. I’m having a great time, thank you very much, panicked about the both of you.”
Nalla closed her eyes. And took a deep breath that she released on a defeated exhale. “I don’t want to distract him and make things even more dangerous.”
“Just so that we are clear, his life and mine are over if anything happens to you.Over.” Bella picked up her coat and pulled it back on. “You may be angry about things that we didn’t do or things that we did, but please don’t ever forget what you mean to us. Rest assured, we do not.”
Nalla’smahmenwalked to the archway and looked over her shoulder. “I brought you a backpack with a change of clothes and the shampoo and conditioner you like. And before you accuse me of going through your room, it was all stuff I found in the dryer or bought on the way. Oh, and there’s a new cell phone in there, too. Your number remains the same.”
On that note, the female walked out to the front of the house. A moment later, the heavy door opened and closed.
There was a little delay before the draft made it down to the kitchen, but Nalla felt the cold.
All the way into her bones.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The Riverdale Social Club was not anywhere near the river. It wasn’t a club, either, in the squash or the smash sense, and as for the hoity-toity “dale” tail, the shit was about as pretentious as a butcher’s shop ca. 1940: The place was nothing but a flat-roofed, concrete box on the fringes of downtown, with two tiny windows that were blacked out and caged with iron bars, and grime drooling down its whitewashed, unremarkable exterior.
It was the urban equivalent of Nate’s crappy log cabin, a tomfool that hid what was really in there.
As he re-formed across the street, he stayed in the lee of a darkened Tex-Mex restaurant. Everything else in the neighborhood was also asleep for the night—and likewise the “club” appeared to be vacant, from the outside.
Which was bullshit.
When he walked across the street, there was no traffic to watch out for, but he checked both ways anyway, as Rhage always said. Nopedestrians. No cars—except those two that were parked half a block down, and might well be federal or local agents.
The alley to the left of the barred entrance had no security lights, and as he came to the head of it and looked down, the narrow lane was far from empty—Uncle’s Mercedes was parked right beside the fire exit and blocking the way.
The first clue something was off was the smell of gunpowder and blood. The next was the hushed conversation bubbling up from the silver sedan’s back bumper.
All the chatter stopped as his presence registered, and he walked over to the three men who were clustered around the bullet holes in the car’s driver’s side.
“Not a good night for interruptions,” the stubby one said.
Nate nodded in greeting. “Do we know who ordered the hit.”
It rankled to use “we” as it applied to a bunch of humans. But his true tribe had voted him off the proverbial island.
“Not yet,” Stubby replied.
