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Dixon returned with a fresh pad. I’m on vacation. I just came back to get some clothes.
“Came back from where?”
The oracle’s compound. I’m helping Lila.
“You’re working the case without me? So much for a vacation. You didn’t even tell me where you were going.”
You’re not my boss. You’re my brother. Besides, you’ve been busy. Dixon’s gaze flitted toward the bathroom. The shower turned off, and the apartment grew quiet.
Lila hadn’t even noticed. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted to notice. Reluctantly, she slipped her hood over her face once more.
“I’ve been busy before. It never bothered you then.”
Do you even want to work the oracle’s case?
“Of course I do.”
Fine. We’re here now. Or do you have other plans?
The door to the bathroom opened. Katia emerged, her hair wet, her eyes widening at Dixon and Lila’s reappearance. She straightened her black trousers and gray sweater and cleared her throat. “Hello.”
Lila’s gaze swept over her, landing on her neck. Katia had a slave’s scar, a scar that she and Tristan shared.
Why hadn’t Lila noticed it before? Because she didn’t want to look too hard at her replacement?
Lila’s stomach twisted as Katia sat on the end of the couch near her. “Are you and Dixon together now?” she whispered.
Dixon withdrew two mugs from a kitchen cabinet, ignoring Tristan’s attempts to push his fresh notepad closer.
“Dixon and I have been working together, Katia, nothing more,” Lila said, seeing no reason to whisper.
Tristan gave up on Dixon and sat on the couch next to Katia, watching Lila’s mesh hood. “I find that hard to believe. My brother’s been tied up tighter than a sailor’s knot the last month. He comes back after a couple of days with you, and he’s suddenly more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him.”
“Maybe he just needed to get away. Maybe he still does.”
“With you? I don’t recall you being particularly restful.”
“Play back this conversation and then ask me who’s the restful one.” Lila retreated to Dixon’s room. She knelt in the corner, digging through her bag, snatching up her hard drive and a cable.
She returned to find Katia still on the couch. Tristan had gone back into the kitchen. He and Dixon hunched over the counter, their heads bent over mugs and Dixon’s notepad.
Perhaps Tristan had coaxed him out of silence with a different attitude.
Good. The sooner they talked, the sooner she could leave. Hopefully, Tristan’s renewed bluster in helping hadn’t been serious. His help in combing through the logs would have been nice, but she’d rather not sleep all week than ask for it now.
Lila plopped down at Toxic’s desktop, which had been left untouched in the corner. She woke it up and inserted a cable. The tower chugged back to life.
Katia slid a barrel footstool beside her, the bottom scraping against the hardwood floor. She sat down and squirmed on the seat, her fingers combing through her damp hair. “I’ve known Dixon for a very long time. He’s a good man.”
“Katia, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I don’t have time for matchmaking. I really do need to work. That’s the only reason why I came back. I wouldn’t even stay if Dixon didn’t need to speak to his brother and pack a bag.”
She wouldn’t have stayed if she had money, either. She would have taken her car back to the oracle’s compound. Unfortunately, she didn’t have enough gas.
Lila transferred a program from a star drive to the computer.
Katia watched the screen as Lila ran the program. “You don’t have to wear that hood around me, you know. You can trust me. I’ve known all about this place for nearly a year, and I’ve kept the secret. I take such things very seriously.”
Lila’s fingers stilled upon the keyboard. “He brought you here last year?”
