Page 78 of Bitter Spirits

He gave her a grim nod. “And now that it’s out in the open, things are going to shift and not in a good way.”

This was what he’d been keeping from her. Her mind spun at the numerous implications such a drug would have out in the wild. A shiver of foreboding ran over her skin. “Can’t the families use those endless pockets to lock it down and create an antidote?”

“That short-term fix is already in the works, but the real implications run deeper.”

“The Arcane Families and the Traditionalists.”

The ideological rift had been growing in recent years as those with little to no access to magic decried the influence held by society’s magical powerhouses. What had been grist for political discussions when she was younger had grown into divisive rhetoric infiltrating everyday life.

He nodded. “Which is why we need to find out how Carter and Angel got their hands on this shit.”

She took in the lines etched around his eyes and mouth and the smudges under his eyes, and it hit her that while she’d been dealing with her own demons, he had been dealing with his. Handling the darker truths might be part of his job, but it also reflected who he was—a man willing to do what it took to keep that darkness at bay. Even if it meant shutting out those closest to him and going at it alone.

Just like me.

If he was willing to show her his truth, could she show him hers? Before she could lose her courage, she blurted, “Cora may not let Angel walk away.”

Locke’s gaze sharpened. “The vow you made?”

She nodded. “The only thing that will appease her is his death.” Reapers understood the inherent truth of an eye for an eye to balance death’s scales. Thanks to her vow, if that coin wasn’t offered, it would be Isa who paid the debt. She swallowed hard. “And you need him alive.”

“Not more than I need you.”

Her breath stalled as his statement struck deep, slicing through the last knot of resentment and fear. His icy-blue eyes studied her face, his thoughts inscrutable. Then awareness warmed the glacial blue.

He caught her chin in his hand and brushed a thumb over her lips. “Breathe, reinita.”

She let out a little gasp and drew in a shaky breath. “Dammit, Locke, warn a girl next time.”

He tipped her chin up and pressed his lips to hers in a quick kiss. When he drew back, there was a subtle curve to his lips. “One thing at a time, yeah?”

She dipped her chin while her emotional composure scrambled for purchase. In her lap, her phone danced. She tore her gaze from Locke’s, picked up the device, and checked the screen. “Papá found the address.”

Locke pulled his seat belt in place. “Put it in.”

She plugged the address into the GPS unit then fastened her seat belt as he started the car. “It’s close.”

He checked his mirrors, waiting for traffic to pass, and pulled out. “Do me a favor. Send the address to Zev and let him know we’re checking it out.”

She picked up Locke’s phone and did as he asked. A text came zipping back. “He says he’s about a half hour away, at one of the other connected properties. Do you want him to head over?” She looked at Locke. “Connected properties?”

“Other places listed under the shell corp. It’s tedious as shit but has to be done if we want to run Angel to ground.” He checked his mirrors as he wove through the street. “Tell Zev to hold off until I can verify whether Angel’s there.”

She typed out the response, set his phone back on the holder, then grabbed the passenger-door handle.

Locke shot her a look. “Ready?”

“Not even close.”

He just grinned and hit the accelerator.

The address was located in an older neighborhood near the Encanto golf course, where the homes’ original redbrick had been modernized in shades of white and black. Towering palm trees stood sentinel to well-worn asphalt and ribbons of sidewalks occasionally broken up by old-fashioned streetlights. While Phoenix had an appalling number of golf courses, this location held a charming mix of old and new. Even as the working day ticked down, the streets were quiet. The homes sat back behind large, neat yards, where the shadows of encroaching evening emerged around trees and behind bushes to stretch along the meticulous landscaping and welcoming walkways.

Locke rolled slowly past a gray-roofed one-story building tucked between a Tudor Revival house and a ranch-style one. A sleek two-door car was parked behind a wrought iron gate set off to the side. The rest of the paver driveway was empty except for an artful collection of large potted plants and a tall palo verde tree.

“That’s probably Angel’s car,” Isa said.

“Doesn’t look like he has visitors.”