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Belly full, her appetite pleasantly satisfied, Eryn looked outside. Vann was having a heavy talk with Quinn, but they shared familiar smiles. Firelight flickered across his face. His drink served more as a fidget device than as a beverage. Although they weren’t biological siblings, Vann and Quinn shared the same loving, teasing energy that she shared with Lexi.

Damn, Vann was pretty. The way he moved, gracefully and powerfully. Even when he was just sitting and talking. Not one to wear his thoughts on his sleeve, but so much was relayed in his eyes. Every glance meant something.

What had he meant by too late? The attack?

What did he think happened?

Tell her what?

Across the table, Ryan was on his second beer, his meal wolfed down, all smiles and entertaining her with story after story about Vann.

“What does he do for fun?” Eryn asked with a squinty-eyed smile at Ryan’s latest story. “I mean, I’ve only seen him on his way to or from work, or when he’s doing various projects. ‘Tinkering.’ I haven’t known him for long, but I haven’t seen him turn off. Like he’s always thinking and always planning something. Until today, this house was empty, yet he still doesn’t even have a TV.”

“Relaxation isn’t a problem for him, but if there’s something to do, he’s not going to sit idly. When someone needs to be on watch, he’s the first to volunteer.” Ryan pursed his lips as he considered, and leaned back in his chair. “When I first met him, it was a weird time. Quinn had gone missing, for months, and they’d all been frantic, trying to find her.”

“Wow. That had to be terrifying.” And would explain a lot. Vann wouldn’t rest well with his best friend missing. “How did they find her?”

“She was with me.” He paused, his brow furrowed. “I was in the Coast Guard, and we found her. Something had messed with her memories, so she didn’t even remember her team.”

Like Vann’s stories, Ryan was leaving out a lot of crucial details. “Amnesia to that extent is extremely rare, especially with a full recovery. What happened?”

“That is a complicated story. Point is, when we finally found them, Vann didn’t miss a beat. Made me feel accepted. Part of the team, straight off. He has incredible instincts, and he knew I was meant to be with them. That I was meant to find Quinn. He is one hell of a fighter. If I need to burn off a mood, Vann’s always ready to spar.”

Meant? Spar? Eryn blinked as she tried to catch up. Nothing made sense. “Is Vann as fatalistic as you are?”

Ryan huffed a deep sigh and lifted his refilled beer. Eyes wide, lips pursed with grief, he nodded. “To say the least.”

“I get the feeling he’s the sort who doesn’t even take a vacation.”

“He does… sort of. A few years ago, Vann convinced us all to take a vacation at this cool old castle in Germany.”

“Hard to argue with.”

“Well, we all learned our lesson, and Vann doesn’t get to pick our vacation spots anymore. Anyway, we get there, and turns out, it’s a lovely castle, but it was… haunted.”

“Haunted? I can’t picture Vann falling for ghost stories…”

Ryan laughed and bit his lip as he seemed to reconsider his words. “Not ghosts. Um… hostiles. There had been a hostile takeover of this castle, and instead of hiking, relaxing, or anything resembling vacationing, we worked.”

“He picked a hostile-inhabited castle on purpose? Terrorists or drug dealers, or… I don’t even know.”

“Something like that. I mean, we ended up staying at this homey bed-and-breakfast up the road, and once the castle was clear, Vann bought out the very grateful owner, and promised us many relaxing vacations at the castle—when renovations are done.”

Eryn’s mouth opened and closed, her head tilting like a confused puppy. A castle? A… castle? “Vann owns a castle?”

“It took a while to get all the paperwork through and find the right contractor, but it’s almost done. Quinn has already decided we’re going this winter and reading and chilling for a few weeks.”

“How did he find it? Like, did he research castles that happened to be… haunted?”

“I think Vann lived in San Francisco for so long because he always had something to do there. He’s like anyone and will veg with a book, or video games, but he loves his job, so fun often involves working.”

That offered a little more explanation for his coming home covered in blood. A little. “He sounds more like a vigilante than a security expert.”

Ryan shrugged, a subtle smile curling up the corners of his lips.

“And Lost Beach has a remarkably high rate of violent deaths.”