Page 40 of Bitter Spirits

If she let herself fall all the way with Locke, she knew with sickening certainty she would rationalize the risk of bending, even knowing it would break her beyond recognition.

A knock at the door and Locke’s voice snapped her out of her dismal spiral. “Isa, you good?”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

She stared at her reflection, searching for answers, the caustic mix of unresolved emotions leaving her raw and on edge. It might be too late for her heart, but no one else needed to know that. With as much painstakingly care as someone handling a live grenade, she tucked away the messy truths to deal with later. For the moment, she needed answers from Locke because the more she knew, the better equipped she’d be to ward off Angel’s manipulations.

“So, no chance that it was Isaiah who handed Owen the pill?” Locke watched her, his hands behind his head as he stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles on the far end of the sofa. His well-worn shirt rode up just enough to flash an intriguing glimpse of flat abs.

“No.” Curled up in the opposite corner, Isa kept her attention on the borrowed T-shirt she fiddled with. “The face wasn’t clear, but it was someone older than Isaiah. Honestly, the way the whole deal played out, I’d say it was one of Angel’s crew.”

“Because…?”

Sighing, she gave him a look before pointing out the obvious. “Because Angel wouldn’t let anyone else deal on his territory.”

“Yeah, I could see that.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, his exasperation coming through loud and clear. “Why in the hell did that kid take something from someone he didn’t know?”

It was a good question. Too damn bad there was no good answer. “I don’t know, but considering how things went down, I feel pretty confident saying it was the same drug Leo took.” When Locke remained quiet, she decided it was time to push. She studied him. “What are you really chasing, Locke? Isaiah or this drug?”

For a long moment, he stared at his feet, his hands laced over his flat stomach. Finally, he asked, “Does it matter?”

Her stomach knotted because she knew this was a test she couldn’t afford for him to fail. “Yes.”

Without lifting his head from the cushion, he turned to her, his gaze drifting over her face, his thoughts veiled behind a remote mask, but something burned deep in those eerily light eyes. “Why?”

She held that uncomfortable gaze with a hard practicality, refusing to allow even a shimmer of her emotions to surface. “Because I need to know where your priorities lie and what they’re going to cost me.”

There was a shift behind his mask, something she couldn’t quite catch, and she waited for the inevitable claim that there was no price to be paid. Instead, he surprised her with a truth. “Finding Isaiah is the priority right now.”

Her mind spun with his admission, and she finally started thinking. The last couple of days, she’d been twisted up in her worry about Angel and hadn’t taken a breath to examine the pieces and put them into a larger picture. Even worse, she’d followed Locke’s lead blindly instead of asking more pointed questions, specifically about the unknown drug.

She set aside her concerns with Angel and focused on what she knew. The only reason a Family would use a Hound of Locke’s caliber on a runaway teenager was because that runaway was a threat to them. And what could threaten a power player? Secrets. Like, say, the existence of an unknown, lethal drug designed to unleash magic in nonmagic users or boost the existing power in a mage. She could imagine a hundred different ways a powerful Family would benefit from such a thing, especially if they held complete control over its existence. And if someone else controlled it, they’d stop at nothing to change that.

“You think Isaiah can lead you to whoever is dealing the drug that killed Leo and Owen.” It wasn’t a question, so she wasn’t surprised when Locke remained silent. More pieces fell into place, creating a twisted picture she prayed was wrong. “This drug—where did it come from?”

If Locke was working to cover up some kind of Family scheme, it would make her decision about trusting him a no-brainer—though, granted, it would be painful as hell.

This time, his pause was longer, but he didn’t look away. “You understand that there are things I can’t share with you.”

Her heart dropped at his nonanswer. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t.” He dropped his feet and pushed up to a seated position, his arms braced on his knees as he kept his attention on her. “Not because I don’t trust you but because there are some situations where I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Locke, but I get it. Family comes first.” She couldn’t keep the bitter bite out of her tone. “And I’m definitely not Family.” He was making that abundantly clear.

He dragged his hands through his hair and snapped, “That’s not what I said.”

“Isn’t it?” Something tight was wrapped around her chest, squeezing it painfully. Feeling inexplicably betrayed, she shoved off the couch and watched Locke do the same. “I asked you a question, but you dancing around the answer is an answer in itself. Somehow, someway, the Cordovas are mixed up with this drug. Either they created it, or they want to own it, but either way, they have their own agenda. One you’ll make sure happens.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Gods dammit, Isa. Is that what you think of me? That I would—what? Blindly follow orders or something?”

“I think if it comes down to a question of Family priorities, the Family wins.” She knew she should let this go—that what was growing between them was too new for such demands—but she couldn’t seem to stop pushing him. “You want to protect your precious Family? Fine, but don’t ask me to do the same.”

“Oh, trust me, I’d never make that mistake,” he shot back, his verbal knife finding its mark.

She winced.

Instantly, some of his anger faded and remorse moved in. “Dammit, Isa, that’s not—” He shook his head. “Look, I don’t know which Family fucked you over and why, but the Cordovas aren’t like that. They’re trying to stop this thing.”