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“Conor, cut the zip-ties on her wrists first then tie them again in front of her.”
He nodded at my order and accepted the knife I handed him without question. Ordinarily, I’d have done it myself, but getting close to her would be asking for trouble.
As he slashed through the nylon, Ovianar didn’t give him any crap like she might have done with me, just let him bind her again. Then, he released her feet.
“I’ll stay with Minerva in case you change your mind and stop being cooperative,” D threatened.
Ovianar’s mouth tightened but she nodded her understanding.
Conor returned the knife to me, and my eyes caught and held Ovianar’s as I pledged, “I have no desire to hurt you.”
“But you will,” she said bitterly.
“Yeah. I will. If I have to.”
She staggered through the door and I followed her into what had once been our HQ. There were a couple of laptops in here and two desktops. She headed for her rig and kickstarted it.
“It needs to sync up,” she muttered.
“Fine.”
I stared around the office, unsurprised to see it hadn’t changed that much. Minerva’s aunt had been a hedonist shipped from the sixties and they hadn’t been that interested in interior design back in the day. The same ‘groovy’ wallpaper decorated the walls, big swirling loops that made me think of an acid trip I’d experienced one time with Savannah and her brother, Camden.
“You really want to help the girl?”
Jarred from my exploration, I nodded and did the unthinkable—I told the truth. “I’m related to her.”
“What?!” Ovianar blurted out. “How?”
“Her father was my uncle.”
“Her father was a Sparrow,” was her bitter retort.
I rubbed my nape. “That’s the part I don’t understand.”
“What’s to understand? He was scum.”
Tired, I leaned against the wall. I didn’t think she’d pull any unsuspecting moves, mostly because she was still aghast at my revelation.
“How did you find out that it was a power grab?”
“We were told six teams were being shipped out. One team per target. But later on, those same names and faces were alive and well and on TV again.”
“You remember them?”
“Of course.”
“Write them down.”
She cut me a look, but whatever she found during her exploration of my features, had her nodding. “You’re working to tear them down still, aren’t you?”
“After what they put me through, bet your ass I am.”
“If you need help, Minerva and I are on board.”
“Doubt Minerva would agree.”
“Maybe not, but the shit we’ve uncovered about the Sparrows is enough to make Satan puke. They deserve to be ripped to shreds.”
