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I collapsed onto the soaked sheets next to her, glancing from her to Quentin and back again. “I think we might need another shower now.”
All three of us burst into delighted, sated laughter. And just like that, it seemed ridiculous that I’d ever hesitated to join Quentin in this incredible encounter.
FOURTEEN
Luciana
Somethingabout the morning light in Tokyo just hit a little differently. I sprawled under the covers, my eyelids at half-mast, watching the tiny dust particles float through the hazy glow of the rising sun like pixie dust.
It was nice to take a few moments to chill out amid the craziness of my life. For once, I could wake up slowly, and—
Just as I sat up with a luxurious stretch, my phone chimed with an incoming text. My regular phone, not the burner that Beckett or the Blood Hunter would have reached out to. And it was the tone I’d assigned to unknown numbers, my established contacts getting a different one, so it couldn’t be any of my guys or the Deadly Rose defectors either.
My pulse hiccupped before I reached for the device I’d left charging on the bedside table. Probably it was Mom trying to reach out again. She’d tried a few different numbers after I’d blocked the ones I already knew, and I deleted every enraged and unhelpful message without engaging.
As my fingers closed around the phone, I thought about calling Rafael in to check the message and delete it for me. Seeing her words wouldn’t stress him out the way it did for me. But my gaze had already grazed the screen, and I paused.
No, I didn’t think this was from Mom at all. The message was short enough for the whole thing to show on the screen:Am I talking to Luciana Cordova?
I stared at the text for a few halting breaths, debating my next move. Who the hellwasit? Who would know my name and have my number, but not be sure it was mine?
Maybe itwasMom, and this was some weird trick?
I wavered in indecision for a minute longer before kicking off the sheets and pulling a hoodie on over my pajama set for warmth. “Rafael?” I called through the door. “You there?”
He answered in an instant, sounding as if he’d bolted to my room as soon as I’d asked. “Of course, Lou. What’s up?”
“I need your help with something.”
He eased open the door and strode in, worry clouding his dark eyes.
I hadn’t meant to involve the other guys, but Quentin caught the door and peered in after my bodyguard. “Is everything okay?”
I waved him off. “Yeah. I mean, nothing’s terribly wrong. I’ve just got to figure something out.”
Quentin propped himself in the doorway, and Jasper wandered over too. I resigned myself to having an audience. I guessed the skaters had a right to know what was going on too… even ifIdidn’t know yet myself.
I offered my phone to Rafael. “I got a text from an unknown number—but they seem to know who I am. I’m not sure if I should answer it.”
Rafael scanned the screen. “You have no idea who this could be?”
I shook my head. “It’s kind of like when the turncoats reached out to me, but at least they were more specific about how they knew my name and that they were on my side. This is so… vague, it could be anything from a friendly overture to a threat.”
Rafael hummed to himself and pulled out his own phone. He checked the number against his own contacts, his frown deepening. “It’s no one I’ve had contact with either.”
Niko had joined the other two skater men by the doorway and obviously picked up on what was going on. “Could it have nothing to do with your criminal ties at all? Someone you knew at your school or another ordinary place?”
I rubbed my mouth. “That is possible too. Although I don’t know why they’d be reaching out now either.”
Jasper gave me a crooked grin. “Maybe they recognized you on TV from the competition broadcasts and want to reconnect now that you’re famous.”
I rolled my eyes at him, but the thought of possible innocuous explanations settled my nerves a little. I exhaled roughly and glanced at Rafael again. “Do you think I should answer?”
He shrugged. “I don’t see how it could hurt. Them knowing that they’ve got the right number doesn’t give them any real advantage. And they might have something useful to say like the defectors did.”
“Yeah.” I hadn’t really wanted to chicken out, and having him agree with my impulse to find out what was going on gave me the rest of the conviction I needed. “Here goes nothing!”
I took the phone back and typed out a quick response.I used to go by that name. Who is this?
