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Still warm.
Lavena rested her chin on my shoulder and blinked up at me with big, blue eyes. “Mad at me still?”
I wanted to tell her I was, but I had to admit the nap, shower, and bite of whatever was in my fridge had helped. I felt less jittery and more focused.
“Maybe a little,” I lied, holding my grin behind a scowl.
She scoffed. “Liar.”
Rather than respond, I knocked my head lightly into hers.
“Morpheus just texted me,” Alexander announced, peering down at his phone. “He wants to meet.”
Marcella was already on her feet, brushing down her slacks and knitted tank. “I’ll have Juan bring the car.”
“I’d like to come with you,” I blurted before I could stop myself. “Please.”
Alexander and Marcella exchanged glances, but I was already pushing to my feet; it may have sounded like a request, but I was going even if I had to follow them in a cab.
No one stopped me when I followed them, leaving Lavena, Edmund, and Kas alone to watch over Darius.
“Hey.” Lavena held out her phone to me. “Call Kas’s phone if you need to reach us.”
Grateful, I took the slim device and hurried after the Medlocks.
Neither one asked me why I was tagging along. They seemed unbothered by my presence. Alexander held the passenger side door open for me when we arrived in the parking lot while he and his wife got into the back.
Marcella must have texted Juan the address because he never asked, and no one told him as we pulled away from the hospital. I noted, with some confusion, that we were heading away from the city, away from the bright lights and prying eyes. The air grew crisper without the shield of buildings. The dark held more weight. It made me think of the drive back with Darius, the peace I’d felt with his hand on my leg and his warm scent in the cabin.
I glanced at Lavena’s phone, half hoping for a message, but all the alerts were from other people asking if Darius was okay, if there was any news, if Lavena wanted to go for drinks. The last one was from Enzo.
I didn’t look at the rest.
We passed a steel arch at the opening of what appeared to be a scrapyard. The dead remains of vehicles stood in rusted layers, a mountain of metal left forgotten and us maneuvering the winding path to the center.
A harsh, yellow ring of light illuminated a squat structure crafted from sheets of metal and the two figures waiting for us.
Sasha offered me a tiny, perplexed wave, but neither she nor her father asked why I was there.
“It didn’t take as long as we had expected,” Morpheus stated the moment we had joined the pair under the light. He held out a pale folder that Alexander accepted. “They were smart. They hired an amateur. Malcolm Jarmon, twenty-five, some street thug turned assassin got his hands on the listing, thought he’d made it big given the pocket change being offered for someone like Darius. He must not have done his homework, or he would have realized what a bad decision taking the hit was. He was texted Darius’s information and photo, but here’s the thing.” He waited until Alexander had flipped the folder open. Several sheets of paper were flipped until Morpheus placed a finger on a spot. “Someone at the party told him when Darius left and roughly how long it would take to get back to the Alexander. I haven’t learned the identity of the informant here, but I do know who placed the hit in the first place.”
“Volkov,” Alexandra murmured before Morpheus could continue.
The other man nodded, his dark eyes shadowed beneath his heavy brows. “He waited for the party, knowing it would be the best way to calculate Darius’s whereabouts for Malcolm.”
Something about the photo of Uriah Volkov had me reaching for the page in Alexander’s hand. I tilted it to get a better glimpse of that familiar face under the filmy light.
He had the same square face.
The same brown eyes and heavy forehead. In the photo, his hair was thick, wavy, and dark, but when I’d seen him, it was shot through with gray and slicked back.
“I know him,” I murmured.
“You do?” Sasha peered down at the piece of paper. “How?”
I passed the photo back to Alexander. “He came to the shop a few days ago and bought a dress for his wife.”
“He was in the store?” Sasha gasped.
