“You.” Krye nods. “You, I trust not to lose, normal boy Tink. Right?”
“Sure,” I croak. I take it, slip it into my jacket pocket. And then, because I think it’ll piss Pan off, I add, “Besa, right?”
“Yes!” Krye beams. “Besa besë.”
Back in thebig round driveway, Pan stows the packages with a scowl.
“Lecturing me like I’m a damn kid,” he mutters. “I know what I’m doing.”
A few feet away, Kit snorts. “Do you?”
“What kind of question is that?” Pan says, straightening up. “Of course I do. Krye was just being a dick.”
He looks at me, like I’m supposed to confirm for him.
And I would, but…
I hang on a moment, helmet in my hands.
I have to ask.
I have to.
I find my voice.
“You’re not worried about what he said?”
I keep my voice really low,reallyeven. But I do ask it.
Now Blue sidles up. “What did he say?” There’s just the faintest hint of alarm to his voice. As much as I can hear it under the helmet, anyway.
But Pan just laughs. “That old bastard? No. Not even close.” He jams his helmet on, revs, and circles around before I can even get my bike going, spitting gravel into the fountain at the center of the driveway.
“Hey!” I yell, not sure if he can hear me. Or if he’s even listening. “Wait—where are you going?” I look down at the phone—nothing. “We don’t even have the address yet.”
No point in waiting for an answer. The other three are already moving, I stuff my own helmet on to follow.
Pan does glance back at me, though.
He was listening.
“Where?” he says, crackling over the mic. “To celebrate, duh.”
CHAPTER 3
TINK
The Mermaid Lagoonmight not be the fanciest strip club in London Valley. But it’s never not a good time.
“I’m in a celebrating mood,” Pan announces as he swings through the doors. “You hear that, ladies?”
I have to assume the boys took to hanging here because it’s dead across from the shop and the loft. And that they continue to hang here because only Treasure puts up with their shit—our shit.
But it’s also one of the few clubs in The Strip, in all of London Valley, really that’s independent. From anyone. Treasure owns and operates it and swears allegiance to no one.
And that’s whyIlike it.
We stride our way over to the velvet club chairs in the corner, and a flutter of activity follows us, hair swinging and sequins winking as a cluster of Mermaids hustle their way over from the end of the bar, beaming.
