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He sighed and nodded. “No one could live with themselves in your shoes, Greta. You’ve got five-inch heels on those things,” he said, grinning slyly.
“Damn right, I do. Five-inch weapons on me anywhere I go.”
Deo cleared his throat. “I took Domínguez’s deal to my father. He’s on board, but he’ll want me to firm up delivery details with thecapo. It’s as good an excuse as any to go back there.”
“Perfetto. That will let me get in contact with Leeri and give us an excuse to do a little more digging to figure out where Domínguez has got his victims stashed.”
Because it didn’t matter how much the evidence said otherwise, I could feel it in my bones. Domínguez was exactly the kind of scum that Gabe and I hunted.
“So, what’s a message you can fit on your arm, and who the hell are we going to get to put it there?” Gabe asked. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not really up to date on my old rune symbols.”
“I can help with that,” a girl’s voice said as a familiar blonde head peeked into the room.
Freya—Deo’s sister. She was pretty, wicked smart, and she moved like a freaking jungle cat. I swear, the girl must have been a spy in another life. It also just so happened that at twenty-four, she had a doctorate in archaeology, and she was working toward another in anthropology. If anyone knew ancient runes, it was her.
But a cold shiver tingled down my spine anyway. More good luck? What were the chances this ended well?
“When did you get here, Freya?” Deo asked, both eyebrows cocked, lips pressed together.
Freya shrugged. “A while ago.”
Deo stood up, crossing the room to his fair-haired sister. “You knowPapàwon’t let you be a part of this,” he said, shaking his head.
If there was one thing that Enzo Luciano, their father and don of one of the most powerful families in the United States, insisted on, it was that his daughter be sheltered like a freaking princess.
And Freya didn’t like it one damn bit.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not sure drawing a few symbols on Greta’s arm really counts, Deo—unless you think I might hurt myself with the tattoo marker?”
Deo sighed. “Freya, you already know Gabe Costa. This is Brute Hastings,” he said, nodding to Brute and avoiding the subject, “the president of the Old Dogs’ MC. Brute, this is my sister, Freya.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Freya,” Brute said, nodding cordially.
Interesting. I’d kind of figured Brute called all the girls he came across “darling”.
“You too,” she replied, looking him over appreciatively. And who could blame her. Greek biker god—that was my new way to describe him. It totally fit.
“So, what message is it you’re looking to draw?” she asked me.
And was I going to go against Deo’s wishes? Yup, absolutely.
“I was thinking ‘I can help’. I know it’s pretty vague, but I’m counting on her remembering I had no ink before, so it should catch her attention.”
Freya nodded her head slowly. “You said ‘dal-something runes’? Could that have been Dalrunes or Dalecarlian runes?” she asked.
“Si! Dalecarlian runes—that’s what Leeri said.” But when exactly had Valeria become Leeri in my head?
She smiled. “Then I can do that. The tattoo markers will only last a couple days, though. You’ll want to wait until just before you leave for Lázaro Cárdenas,” she said, turning her attention to Deo.
“Christ, Freya, how the hell do you know where we’re going?”
She sighed and turned her attention back to me. “I swear, sometimes he thinks I’m five years old. I bet he has no idea the trouble I get into, does he?”
Nope, and I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him. Freya was two years older than me. In my opinion, what she did was her business and nobody else’s.
“What does that mean?” Deo asked as his expression darkened.
Freya rolled her eyes. “Lay off, Deo. You’re starting to sound an awful lot likePapà.It doesn’t suit you.”
