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“He’d been there, but it didn’t look or smell like he stayed long.”
“Computer?”
“In the bag.”
“Crochet hooks?”
“Plus yarn.”
Icarus smiled. “Robe too?”
Robin shook his head. “Wasn’t there.”
The smile died. “Stinky motherfucking warlock.”
“First thing you’ve said I agree with.”
“I get to hit him before you kill him.”
“Second thing.”
The shared spite forced a stuttered laugh out of Adam. An easier one followed when he caught Icarus’s smirk. “Not going for a third?”
The vampire winked and hefted his bag off the floor. “I know better than to press my luck.”
That absurdity deserved a full-bellied laugh. “Since when?”
“Since now,” Icarus threw over his shoulder as he turned toward the vacant bunk room.
He disappeared into the shadows, and Adam, still chuckling, swung his attention back to the table. Robin eyed him with an expression that was half surprise and half... pity? The assassin tossed a dime-sized metal sliver—an embedded lens—onto the table. “Also found that at his place.”
“A bug? Someone’s been spying on him?”
“Or he’s been spying on you.”
Adam picked up the sophisticated piece of tech and examined it more closely, considering its other uses. “Or on his clients.”
“None of the above,” Icarus snapped as he zipped back into the room. He’d left on his jeans but swapped the knit sweater for a strappy tank top that left zero to the imagination, his cut biceps and ripped upper body on full display. For his benefit or Robin’s, Adam couldn’t say, and he didn’t have time to contemplate it further. Icarus snatched the bug from his hand. “That’s five grand worth of tech you ruined,” he seethed at Robin.
“Who’s tech?” Robin asked. “Yours?”
“Hers.”
“Hers?”
“My sister’s, and it wasn’t active.” His gaze flicked the direction of the stairs—detecting Cormac’s approach, as did Adam—then back to them. “We have a signal. If I gave it, she’d know to turn it on and look around.”
Robin planted his hands on the table. “There’s only a handful of people with access to that kind of gear.”
Icarus pocketed the tech. “My sister is one of them.”
“According to your file,” Cormac said as he entered the room, “your sister died in the Rift.”
“Who do you think taught me how to excavate?”
“That’s not an ans—”
“Enough,” Adam said, cutting the volley off before it went any further, especially with Cormac-of-all-angles in the debate now. “This is all beside the point.” They needed to focus on their common mission—Vincent Cirillo. Adam was done with the asshole who’d destroyed his life, and for the first time in a decade, he had the pieces to return the favor. To destroy Vincent and finish this, for good. “How do we bring this to a close? Because Vincent’s clearly ready, and so am I.” He gestured at the table, inviting the combatants to sit and strategize. “Help me figure this out.”
