Page 79 of Bitter Spirits

“You mentioned there were other places owned by the agency, so maybe Carter doesn’t know about this place.”

“Maybe.” Locke didn’t sound convinced.

She watched the house recede through the side mirror. “I didn’t see any cameras.”

“If it’s used for business visitors, they wouldn’t be visible.”

Fair point. “So, how do we get inside?”

“We walk up and knock.” He turned into a narrow alley lined with fences, garbage and recycling cans, and rear-facing garages. Tucked between two homes, the alley branched to the left, the turn partially blocked from view by a dumpster. Behind that was a small parking spot. Locke pulled into it.

“I don’t think he’ll just open the door.”

“I don’t need him to.” He shut the Dodge down and tossed his sunglasses onto the dash. “I can get us in. I just don’t want the neighbors involved.”

She undid her seat belt. “And if we try to sneak in…”

“Someone will call the police. Better to act like we’re expected.”

“And when Angel decides a noise complaint isn’t worth avoiding? You got a plan for that?”

He reached across her and popped his glove compartment. It dropped open, and she caught the flash of a sigil as he hit something and another compartment appeared like… well, magic. Inside sat a small black bag and thin metal case.

“Illusion spell?”

“Yep.” He pulled out the bag, opened it, and poured what looked like grayish-white stones into his palm.

“What are those?”

“Warding stones.” Locke ran his finger over them, turning them so she could see their etchings. He picked out three then returned the rest to the bag. Once that was back in the compartment, he reached for the case.

“And that?”

He flicked it open to reveal a set of multiple lockpicks. “Our way in.” He pulled out two and tucked them and the warding stones into a back pocket.

“And if it’s an electronic lock?”

He closed the hidden compartment then the glove box. “Then it’ll be an even easier entry.”

He popped the trunk then pushed open his door. She met him at the open trunk, where he folded back the liner, exposing a smooth metallic surface. He ran his finger over a spot, and a ward flared to life.

He traced the ward and murmured, “Sim sala bim.” A flare of blue was followed by a snick, and the metal shifted. He lifted the panel to reveal a padded collection of weapons.

She shook her head. “You drive around with that all the time?”

“Perk of the job.” He picked up a small black compact gun. “You know how to use one of these?”

“Yeah.” She took the SIG Sauer from him and racked back the slide, ensuring that the chamber was clear.

“Here.” He handed over a full magazine and a leather holster. “Set it at your back.”

Isa slipped the magazine in, reset the slide, then tucked the gun under her waistband at the base of her spine. She wiggled, trying to get comfortable, as she watched Locke tuck a pair of lethal-looking blades away. “Wait, where’s yours?”

He lowered the metal lid and straightened the liner. “The gun’s for you, just in case.”

Just in case? Reality hit her hard, leaving her mouth dry and her pulse a hard, painful beat. “Maybe we should wait for Zev,” she squeezed out.

Locke closed the trunk and turned to her, his expression growing gentle. “Hey.” He set his hands on her hips and pulled her into him. “If you want to hang back, I can go check it out.”