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“What did you expect?” She arches one eyebrow. “We may not be heading to the Royal Duchess, but we don’t have to look like animals.”
“We leave in five minutes,” I say. “Grab what you need, Callen.”
He jumps up and hurries to the kitchen to gather the bags of remaining food. “Killing drums up an appetite.”
“You’ll need this,” Seb says, grappling in his trouser pocket for something. He finds a tiny earpiece and holds it out for me. Typically, each Duke wears one whenever we go on a mission, but after recent events, we only have two remaining. “It should be fully charged. I’ve got the other one, and I’ll turn mine on as soon as I arrive tomorrow. Bram can link them to his laptop, so he can hear everything.”
“It looks like we’re spending the night with ghosts, boys,” Ivy says, striding past me. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
Bram grabs her wrist as she passes him. Their eyes meet. They look at each other with an intensity that makes me feel like I’m intruding on a special moment, but I can’t look away.
Ivy’s shoulders tense, like she’s aware I’m staring, but I’m not the only one watching. Seb’s lips purse and Callen smirks asIvy rises on her tip-toes to kiss him. When their lips meet, Bram strokes her cheek tenderly. We know they built a connection during their time in captivity, but maybe there’s something more lasting to it.
Seb’s hands grip the sides of the armchair hard enough that it looks like the stuffing will pop through the strained fabric, while Callen retches dramatically and heckles, “Get a room!”
They break apart, but their eyes stay fixed on each other, communicating in a silent, secret language. I have no right to be jealous—especially after how I acted earlier—but I can’t help it. A part of me wants more than anything to see her look at me like that again. But I’ve blown my chances. Work comes first.
“See you tomorrow, Bram,” she murmurs, then stomps from the house.
“Grab some blankets,” I order Callen, returning to business. None of us will sleep tonight, but I don’t want Ivy catching hypothermia. “We’ve got a fish to catch.”
CHAPTER 36
IVY
Itap my foot impatiently and huff to blow a loose hair tendril out of my face. What’s taking them so long?
“Finally!” I declare, rolling my eyes as Freddie and Callen join me.
They ignore my remark and march past, ignoring how I’ve been freezing my tits off waiting in the cold.
Callen leads the way. “Follow me.”
We weave through the streets, heading past a row of garages and abandoned sofas, where squirrels and rats appear to have made themselves at home.
The car is up ahead.
“I’m driving,” Freddie says, holding his hand out for the keys that Callen’s spinning around his finger. I was hoping they’d fly off and slice his face, but no such luck.
“Shotgun!” I call, darting around to the passenger seat before Callen gets a chance.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t try to race me for it. Who knew the psycho Scot would honour shotgun? Maybe he has hidden morals, after all. It doesn’t stop him from pouting, though.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sit on my lap, princess?” Callen teases. “You might want to warm up in the back.”
I glare at him. “Keep it up, and I might be tempted to test Torean’s tools before tomorrow.”
I’m not opposed to practising for Trout if we have time. Callen cackles, unaware that I wasn’t joking, and sets to work on switching the registration plate. At least they’re making some attempts to hide our location from the Killers Club.
“How far away is the cemetery?” I ask when we’re all inside.
“Not far,” Freddie says. He places his phone in a holder on the dash that’s already programmed with the route. “Bram hacked into the cameras around the perimeter and found us the best place to park.”
Despite Freddie’s earlier outburst and the prospect of spending a night with him underground, I’m excited that the Dukes are honouring their part of our bargain. I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve, getting ready for the best day of the year—well, one of them. Killing Spencer will be the best of all.
We drive through shadowy London streets. Teenagers with pulled-up hoods and bandanas covering half their faces gather in alleyways. This is the kind of estate where kids are drawn into gang life. Freddie doesn’t turn on any music as we drive, staying fully alert. The only noise comes from Callen noisily scoffing Chow Mein in the back.
I spin. “Can you chew quieter?”
