Grayson ignored the memory and pulled out his phone; he was here for a reason, after all. He opened the picture he’d just taken in the parking garage and texted it to Reece. With any luck, it’d piss Reece right the fuck off; that empath deserved a taste of the receiving end of grand theft auto.
He set the phone to the side and lay back on the bed. He could almost hear their voices from that night here together, like the ghosts of Past Reece and Past Evan still haunted the studio.
But not only does no one give you credit, you know full well everyone is underestimating you, Grayson had said.And you let them.
I don’t know what you—
Drive like an empath?
It doesn’t matter how people interpret that, Reece had protested, even while he was dodging Grayson’s gaze.All that matters is they drive safer.
But you know they think it means drive like a cute little pacifist carefully following all the rules. Not drive like a professional joyriding my truck like he stole it—because he did.
Grayson stared up at the crown molding, remembering more of his words to Reece.
That’s right. I’m on to you now. Because I promised you that there’s nothing you can do that I can’t stop, and I’d be pretty bad at that if I hadn’t learned my lesson about underestimating you.
Reece was right; hewasarrogant. And he hadn’t learned his lesson about underestimating Reece at all.
But he’d made Reece a promise, and he was going to do everything in his power to keep that promise—and stop him.
It was fully dark outside now, raindrops pattering against the black glass framing a view of city lights, even the weather reminding him of his night here with Reece. Normally, Grayson could just ignore memories and they disappeared, but tonight, the voices of the ghosts kept echoing around him, so that even the Dead Man couldn’t forget he was in Reece’s bed.
How can you be so smart and intuitive and yet not realize I need to be the one between you and the door?Grayson had said, as he’d prepared to sleep on the couch instead of the bed, despite Reece’s protests.Oh, that’s right: because when it comes to danger, your common sense pulls a vanishing act.
Reece had blinked in surprise.Did you just call me smart?
And once again, when I’m talking about your safety, I might as well be talking to a rock.
You did call me smart.Reece had lingered at the end of the couch, his gaze on Grayson.And somewhere back around your circus analogy, I think you said I was cute.
Grayson breathed in the familiar scent beneath him.
Yeah. He had said that. And that hadn’t changed, even if Reece had.
From downtown, Reece had gone back to Owens’s mansion. Cora had met him there, and Alex had joined not long later with a new thrall in tow that Reece recognized from the Seattle police force.
“Officer Kosler.” Alex added in an aside, “He pulled me over for speeding. It didn’t go how he expected.”
Reece stared at Kosler, a storm of emotions in him. For fuck’s sake. Kosler hadn’t even liked him; why should Reece care if he was Alex’s thrall now? “I didn’t get to thrall Wayne Smith today,” he said, trying not to look closer at the emotions. “We still don’t have the fucking codes for all the glove materials.”
“Because Evan was at AMI today,” Alex pointed out. “We’ll find Smith tomorrow.”
I should be able to handle Evan, Reece started to say.Just like I should have been able to thrall Smith, or thrall that woman at the store today, or maybe just not fuck up absolutely everything I do.
But before he could get the words out, Cora said, more urgently, “Come look at this.”
Reece and Alex moved closer to the built-in table in the kitchen. By unspoken agreement, this space had become their war room. Probably an odd choice when Owens’s mansion also had a study and a formal dining room, both with bigger tables, but maybe even corrupted empaths were automatically drawn to the social spaces of a house, where people would be most likely to congregate.
The list Eton and Pelham had written of textile deliveries was off to one side. Cora had Grayson’s laptop open, the flash drive sticking out the side. She was staring at a spreadsheet, her expression very dark.
Alex gestured down the hall. “Go find the man in the bedroom and guard him,” he said to Kosler, who eagerly disappeared down the hall. He then slid into the booth seat across from Cora. “What is it?”
Cora gestured to the flash drive. “I found a glove materials supplier list to cross-reference with the delivery list, then wanted to pinpoint all cities with empaths. Except I foundthis.” She turned the laptop around and pushed it across the table, in front of Alex. “Nothing we do will ever come close to the sick and twisted minds of these fuckers.”
Reece leaned down too, peering at the spreadsheet. “I’ve seen this,” he said in immediate recognition. “In the R & D director’s office, that night I broke into Stone Solutions for the first time. This is the list of American empaths and who Stone Solutions thinks our trigger points are for corruption. There’sme, and Jamey next to my name.” A flare of anger rose; he slammed down on it before it could escape his control.
Cora’s voice had gone tighter. “This version has some extra columns.”
