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“Remember what I said, Stephanie,” Alaric replies, unfazed. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“We don’t know what happened,” Stephanie snaps, then turns to me, “We’re taking you to see your friends.”
Alaric shoves me into the waiting elevator. There’s a panel with buttons, but they aren’t labelled with floor numbers. Clever. You’ll never know where you’re positioned in the building. The doors close. Before the elevator stops, Alaric takes a black fabric bag from his pocket. He roughly pulls it over my head, plunging me into darkness. “We can’t have you seeing where we are, can we?”
Stephanie grabs my arm to escort me, tutting me when I slow them down. We’re walking on wooden floors. Another door opens, and I’m hit with fresh air. The bag stops me from feeling the breeze on my cheeks, but I’m grateful to be free from the dank-smelling prison. If they’re moving me above ground, they must either live in a remote location, or it’s nighttime. Judging by the road noise, I’d guess the latter.
“Get in.” Alaric holds my head, and I duck to get into a car.
“He could have blown everything,” Stephanie rages as they get into the front seats. “What about Ivy? He could have blown her cover!”
That wouldn’t be bad. Hopefully, the Dukes saw through her ruse. She couldn’t fool them forever.
“Ivy will be fine,” Alaric reassures, switching on the engine. “She’s our best and most loyal agent.”
“But we haven’t heard from her,” Stephanie points out. She’s worried. Maybe she’s capable of feeling something more than the joy of torturing someone after all. “It’s not like her to go off-grid after something like this. Maybe Tom was right. We should have surveilled the house the whole time.”
“We made the right call,” Alaric says. “We trusted her to do her job, and she’ll do it. She always finds a way out. I don’t doubt her.”
Stephanie huffs. I imagine she’s pouting and crossing her arms.
Alaric’s voice softens. “She’ll be okay, baby.”
So, they’re a couple. No wonder he wasn’t happy when Callen had his girl in a headlock.
“Don’t baby me,” Stephanie snaps. “I don’t like this, Ric. I don’t like it at all.”
“If Ivy is in danger, we brought a bargaining chip.”
By bargaining chip, they mean me.
“They didn’t pick him before,” she says. “Maybe there’s something we’re missing about Ivy and Frederick James. She never mentioned him to us.”
“If she didn’t mention him, he mustn’t have been important,” Alaric says. “She told us about all of her past relationships. He’s a no-one. A guy who met her once and remembers her. We know what men are like. Just think about how many stalkers you’ve had.”
“True.” She sighs. If anyone knew what Stephanie was capable of, they’d be hiding from her—not trying to track her down. “That way.”
The car swerves dramatically, sending my elbow smashing into the side. They turn on the radio to drown out the rest of their conversation. I keep counting in my head, tracking the seconds. We drive for around twenty minutes until we come to a stop. Their HQ isn’t far from the Dukes’ base. We’ve been close, yet so fucking far.
“I’ll stay in the car to watch him,” Stephanie says, referring to me. “Come back if you need us.”
The car door slams as Alaric gets out. The glove compartment clicks open, and Stephanie says, “I really need to paint my nails. Shame you can’t see, I could do with a second opinion on the colour.”
Unbelievable. I assume the car has tinted windows, otherwise, I’d attract unwanted attention. The Dukes will get an alert of a new plate in the area as per my security measures. Will they be able to track me from that?
My hopes of being found evaporate when the car door opens minutes later. Alaric tears the bag off my head, and the frosty temperature hits me like a powerful punch.
“Get out,” Alaric commands. He turns to Stephanie, who has decided on a metallic silver colour and is humming as she applies it. “Nice nails.”
“Thanks,” she replies, then nods at the house. “Do you need me?”
“We’ve got it covered,” he says.
Alaric frogmarches me up the stairs to the front door and into the house. Inside, the stark light makes me squint. I take in the scene. The smell of bleach and disinfectant stings my nostrils. Clean-up has happened, alright. Our coffee table is gone, and shards of glass have skidded across the room. They glint at me from under the sofa. Someone tidied in a rush.
“Someone died here,” Alaric says. “But everyone’s gone.” He jabs his finger into my chest. “Do you notice anything different?”
I arch an eyebrow. He has himself to thank for my inability to reply.
