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I hated that I could do it. Hated that I’d had to do it.

And yet I knew neither of those would stop me from doing it again if it meant getting answers to stop this madness and protect my friends.

I closed my eyes and breathed deep, and after a few minutes the trembling in my limbs eased and my stomach seemed less intent on reaching my throat. I flushed the toilet then opened the door. The face in the mirror was still pale, the violet eyes frightened.

But I had every right to be.

I splashed cold water over my face, then rinsed my mouth until the bitter taste had gone. I straightened my clothing as best I could, but there was little I could do about the frayed remains of my jeans or the holes shredding the bottom half of my sweater. I guess I had to be thankful that I even had something resembling clothing left.

I ran my fingers through my hair a final time, shook my head at how little difference it made, then left the bathroom and headed back to the car.

Lucian had moved the Ute, because it was now parked several houses up from the road work. He was leaning against the side, his arms crossed and his expression concerned. When his jade gaze met mine, the concern deepened. He uncrossed his arms and strode toward me.

“Fuck,” he said, stopping in front of me and placing his hands on my arms, as if to hold me upright. I wasn’t that weak. Not really. “Are you all right? You look as pale as a ghost.”

I forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

He snorted. “You don’t look it.”

I placed a hand on his arm, letting the heat of him wash through me, warming the chill from my bones. “I had to take Aedh form to keep up with my felon. I don’t do it much, and I’m afraid this is the result.”

Whic

h was the truth, but not the whole truth. I might have taken him as a lover, but that didn’t mean I trusted him completely. I’d made that mistake once before. I wasn’t about to repeat it.

“So you did get him?”

“Yeah, but he couldn’t tell me much. Apparently he just had to follow me and report back to a number his client gave him. He didn’t even know the client’s name.”

Lucian snorted and slid his touch to my elbow, lightly guiding me across to the Ute. “My felon said much the same. It doesn’t sound like a practical way to run a business, if you ask me.”

“They got paid. I guess that’s all that matters to them.”

He opened the door and I climbed in, closing my eyes in relief as the warm leather seats wrapped around me. Lucian slammed my door shut then walked around to the driver’s side and got in.

The big engine rumbled to life. Once he was back on the road, Lucian said, “Are you going to follow up the phone number?”

I kept my eyes closed. Though the day wasn’t bright, the sunlight made my headache worse. “Yeah, but I doubt it’ll come to anything. Whoever is behind all this is clever, and would no doubt have considered the possibility of me noticing the tail. I’m betting the phone number will lead to some sort of message service.”

“Message services don’t take anonymous clients.”

“No,” I said, “but it’s easy enough to grab fake IDs these days.”

He glanced at me and smiled—a heat I felt rather than saw. It shimmered through me like sunshine, warm and inviting. “And you know this because …?”

“Because I was once a teenager who used fake IDs to get into places I wasn’t supposed to be.”

He laughed, and something within me wanted to sigh in pleasure. “They could be using a prepaid cell.”

“I doubt it—if only because the number can still be traced.”

“Not if they dump it.”

“Which they can’t do if they want regular reports.”

“It seems you have an answer for everything.”

I smiled. “Only most of the time.”

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