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“Excuse the interruption, sir, but I thought you’d want to know right away. Oleander has just arrived.”
I wasn’t sure who was more stunned of the three of us. Z brushed past Nem, and when I went to follow, she put her hand on my arm.
“How are you holding up, Cayman?”
Like with Poseidon, Zeppelin, and Magnet, I’d worked with Nemesis long enough for her to know all about Bexli. “Honestly? Not well. Do you believe Oleander can help us find her?”
“She damn bloody well better be able to, given what it took to get her here.”
I raised a brow.
“I had an inkling she might be in London, based on the timing of the brief’s arrival immediately following Baissier’s departure.”
“Whatever you did, I appreciate it.”
“She owes us.” Nem started out the door, but stopped and turned around. “Z mentioned Puck minding the task force for now, yes?”
“Yes.”
“And you agree?”
“I didn’t get the impression I had a choice.”
“While Z likely took credit, it was my idea. Although I suppose I may have let him believe it was his. Either way, the impetus was O’s impending arrival, which I hadn’t yet informed him of.”
I took a step forward and rested my forehead on Nem’s shoulder like I did with my mother. It was something we’d both done when we felt the need. Very soon, though, our relationship would change forever. The execution of my plan would require my resignation not just from the task force but from MI5 as well. “Thank you, Margeaux, for everything.”
She patted my back in the same way I would’ve done to her. “Come, Oleander awaits.”
We foundher head-to-head with Wren and Wilder—two of the best agents in the world Z’d referred to. Before I could step into the room, Poseidon motioned for me.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Zeppelin found someone on the site we believe may be Bexli.”
My stomach lurched. They’d met her several times. Why had he said theybelievedit might be her? I followed him into the room where Zep and Mag were huddled in front of the screen.
“Let me see.”
“There.” Zep pointed.
“It’s her,” I whispered. She was barely recognizable. Her forever-long hair had been cut short, and her face was slightly out of focus. Neither took away from her beauty. I reached out, touched the screen with the tip of my finger, and traced her cheek. I stared into eyes I knew better than my own, sad and haunted as they were.
“There’s one more thing,” said Ares, joining us. He motioned for Zep to click to another screen.
“The site just updated. The bidding opens in twenty-four hours.”
My stomach lurched like it had so many times in the last hour. Time was running out. I couldn’t wait another bloody moment to execute my plan.
4
BEXLI
The red light blinked once per second. I counted. One thousand one. It blinked again. I hated the fucking thing. If it hadn’t meant swift and immediate punishment, I would’ve flipped it off weeks ago. Or hurled something at it. Not that there was anything in the room to do it with.
When I took a single step back, my eyes were drawn to the hole in the dingy pale-gray wall. It was a constant reminder of what had happened the one time I did so much as disagree.
I’d crumpled to the floor the night Lorenzo Moretti threw me up against it, cowering when his rage had the same effect on me as my father’s had had—followed by the same pain, inflicted only in a place that wouldn’t show. I was merchandise. Damage meant I was worth less.
