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“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, Claws.” It’s Antony, and he’s got that smirk in his voice like he knows exactly what I’ve been up to.

I suck in a breath, trying to force my heart rate back to normal. Beside me, Queen Boudica swipes at Noah’s bare ass as he tries to bend his huge frame to pull on his pants. “Quit being a smartass and tell me what you’ve got.”

“Nothing, I’m sorry. The bastard got clean away.”

“Did you see who it was? Who are they working for? Did Alec send them?” I close my eyes. “Is it Brutus?”

“I can’t say. I’m going to follow up with my networks, see if anyone’s claiming this, but I’m stumped. I took care of Brutus, and I’m not sure this is your Pretty Boy’s work. Putting out a hit? That’s a bit extreme.”

“It’s got to be Brutus.” My blood runs cold. I don’t have to ask. The world I ran from, they’ve found me again.

Antony clicks his tongue. “Calm down, Claws. Honestly, this doesn’t seem like Ole Brutey Boy, either. This was messy. If you’re going to gun down someone on their front steps, you don’t spray bullets all over the place. This isn’t a professional hit with a sniper rifle – this guy’s a cowboy who can’t shoot for shit. It could be someone trying to get in good with Brutus by taking you out. Let me find out. In the meantime, we’ll step up security. We’ll keep you safe.”

Aware Noah’s listening to every word, I don’t ask questions, even though I have a million swirling around. “He’s gone now?”

“Long gone. And I’ve found Tiberius. He’s out cold, but he’ll be okay. How they snuck up on him I can’t figure. Oh, and your two loverboys arrived. We’re all out front if you wanna let us in.”

I set the phone back in its cradle. Noah stares at me with those dagger eyes, the ones that slice right through me.

“You wanna explain what the fuck’s going on?” he growls.

“Nope.” I flick open a panel on the wall and slam my palm onto a button. With a wheeze, the door springs open. Noah topples out and lands on his back on the rug. Queen Boudica bounds out and pounces on his chest.

I tug on my clothes and leave Noah pinned by the cuteness to unlock the front door. There’s no broken glass and only a couple of chipped tiles. Daddy’s security measures get an A+ from me.

I never knew why a house needed to be bulletproof until this morning.

I fling open the front door. Antony stands there with Tiberius, who’s locked Eli in a chokehold. Gabriel stands off to the side, smoking a joint with a stack of pizzas in his hands.

“Help me, you bastard,” Eli snaps at Gabriel.

“Why? Watching you struggle is so much more amusing.” Gabriel opens the top box and pulls out a french fry. “I wish I brought popcorn.”

“You can let Eli go,” I say. “I told you, he’s on the safe list.”

Antony shook his head. “He’s the one who’s been watching you through your windows. Sounds like crazed shooter behavior to me.”

“It wasn’t him.”

“You know that for a fact?” Antony must’ve noticed the look on my face because he nods to Tiberius, who drops Eli.

Eli glances between us. “Mackenzie, what’s going on? What happened to you?”

“Why’s your shirt on inside out?” Gabriel adds.

I look down. Fuck. “Some psycho shot at us. Noah and Queen Boudica and I hid in the panic room. We’re all fine.”

“Panic room? Like in the Sandra Bullock film?” Gabriel looks interested. “I want to see, especially if it’s a magical panic room that makes your clothes fall off.”

Eli looks so wounded I want to throttle Gabe. Instead, I hide my flaming cheeks as I throw the door open. “You’d better come in, and make it snappy. If the shooter’s still out there, I don’t want him getting all trigger happy again.”

The four of them traipse into the foyer just as Noah comes around the corner with Queen Boudica wrapped around his neck, purring away.

“Hey, Marlowe. Your fly’s undone.” Gabriel’s mouth is all mischief as he slaps Noah on the back. I wonder how fucking clueless it’s possible to be, but when Gabriel turns back to me I see the fear in his eyes.

Eli falls in step beside me. His gaze flickers all around, taking in the gilded modern art, the weird furniture, the clear plastic chairs mixed with the bedazzled lampshades. Or maybe he’s trying to avoid my gaze. “This place…” he breathes. “It looks exactly as I remember it.”

“Not exactly.” I fling open the door to the ballroom.

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