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“Will you still make it to dinner tonight?”
“I’ve already got it penciled in on my company calendar as a meeting with the head of a secret society.”
A sound shockingly like a laugh erupts from his mouth before he hangs up.
I look at my phone. Before this call, I was wavering on doing what I’m about to do, but Leland’s threat to Justice, even as mild as it was, has my defend-and-conquer genes racing. So, now, I’m going to find out everything I can about the Parish family.
The elevator jerks to a stop, the doors open, and I step into a hallway lined with steel-framed, black-and-white photographs.
Victor is there. He whistles at me, taking in my suit. He’s dressed casually, khaki slacks and a screen-printed T-shirt with a colorful logo of a woman twirling, arms outstretched. He has the sleeves up, showing hisDeath Before Dishonortattoo, and his brown hair buzzed down to military attention.
Knowing what’s coming as I push past him, but he still coos at me, “Oh, Sandy. If I were into discipline, I’d be all over you.”
I shake my head. After ten years of friendship, I’m used to my bisexual friend who flirts like his agenda is to make everyone in the world shake off their uptight restrictions. “I appreciate the love, man. Especially since I pretty much abandoned you for two weeks.”
“Forget it. How’s things with Momma Warbucks?”
We walk down the hall and into our suite of offices. The receptionist greets me and I wave back.
“Actually, we’re going to need to talk about that.” I raise my eyebrows in a way that lets him know it’s private before adding, “In my office.”
The moment we enter my corner office, I realize the office isn’t as I’d left it—clean.
Three gray-and-red-striped chairs have been pulled out around a table with two tablets and multiple files scattered across it. My U-shaped desk is also covered with files. Looks like the staff was here late last night, organizing volunteers. I have no idea why people gravitate to this office during a crisis, but it’s good to know they do it even when I’m not here.
Victor puts a hand on my shoulder, drawing my attention from the mess. “Okay, big guy, that’s a lot of brooding silence. Should I pull a fire alarm?”
I really hate to do this to Victor, who’s already done so much for me. Sure, he has the contacts. Sure, he spent years undercover after leaving Special Forces. Sure, he’d do anything for me. All of that makes it harder, not easier, to ask. “I know you’re the last person I should be asking, but I need a favor.”
“Para ti…” He waves his hand instead of finishing that well-knownfor you, anythingphrase. “My currency is favors, but please tell me this isn’t about one of those Parish hermanas?”
I slip behind my desk, dropping my keys and cell atop a stack of files, before plopping into my leather swivel. “No, it’s… I mean… yes. I guess it is.”
Tugging up his pants, Victor sits on an edge of my desk. “Which one?”
For a moment, my mind goes blank. Whichone? The only one who matters. Knowing I can’t say that—and unsure what it means that I thought it—I stare through the thick glass windows and the Schuylkill Expressway traffic below.
“Dude, tell me it’s not that mad scientist. That chemist chick has a patent on some sort of mind serum shit. She’s selling it to the government.”
“You’re paranoid.” Actually, he might not be. I never did ask Justice what M-erasure was, but it seems pretty obvious from the content of her argument. “No, it’s Justice.”
“Oh. The hot Native American chick. Papi likes.”
Indignation flares in my chest. I turn from the window, hold up one finger. “Don’t.”
Whatever Victor sees in my face has his whole demeanor changing. The humor dies. He meets my eyes with a nod.
Warned. Backing off.
Good.
I don’t want Justice compressed into anything—not into a race, not into a woman, not into ahotwoman, not into anything that identifies her in a way that lets her be simplified. It’s wrong, like calling the Pope a religious guy.
Victor smiles knowingly at me before picking up the bronze Wounded Warrior statue on my desk, turning it over. “What’s the favor?”
“I know you have connections.”
Victor grunts in amusement.
