Or he could be lying. I can rarely tell with him, and that unsettles me. We’ve basically abducted him, yet he hasn’t complained once. Why would he leave his own life behind so easily?
“After sundown,” I say, glancing at my watch and promising myself to pay closer attention to him tonight. If Celine has a hard time reading him and I feel the same, it’s time to figure out what makes Ciprian tick. The last thing we need is to discover we’re living with a bomb.
Ciprian drops into my passenger seat at dusk and slaps his thighs. “What’s our dangerous mission?” he asks. “Are we settling a score? Busting someone’s kneecaps for failure to remit payment?”
I laugh as I back away from the curb. “What exactly do you think I do for a living? I’m not a cheesy Mafia enforcer.”
“Disappointing,” Ciprian murmurs. “But you trade information, right? And you said it might be dangerous. I figured we were going to handle a client.”
I shake my head. “Sorry to disappoint. We’re helping Harry out.”
Ciprian thrums his fingers on his knee, tossing me a nervous look. “I thought your contact was going to come get the kids.”
“They weren’t able to make it out,” I tell him. “We’re going to drop them off instead.”
“Gods,” he groans. “You said dangerous, not miserable. What if they cry?”
“Then we’ll kill one to teach the others a lesson.”
Ciprian snaps his head toward me, then whistles. “Shit, you said that without flinching. I actually believed you for a minute.” He glances out the window. “How long is the drive?”
“About an hour. My contact lives near Valley of Fire.” I shoot him a narrow-eyed look. “Honestly, I’m starting to worry more about being cooped up with you than the kids. Tell me something...”
“What?”
“Do people often complain about you during road trips?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” Ciprian smirks out the window, his mischievous expression captured perfectly in the reflection.
I pull up outside of Harry’s house as the moon rises above the shimmering Vegas skyline. Before I can even get out of the car, she comes out with three kids. The smallest child has her stubby arms wrapped tightly around her neck. Harry smiles at me, but her eyes are bright with unshed tears.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“She’s a good woman.” There’s no hint of a joke in Ciprian’stone this time. “Let’s not make this any harder on her than it has to be.”
He opens his car door, climbs out, and waves his hands. Two of the kids giggle, and I watch, amazed as the toddler reaches for Ciprian, his blue eyes shining with laughter. I join them silently, not wanting to cause a distraction.
“Can I show you something cool?” Ciprian asks the kids, winking at Harry. The oldest child says something in the angelic language, and the two younger ones nod enthusiastically.
Ciprian’s black eyes go unfocused, then the toddler gasps, reaching for the air in front of his face as the youngest girl giggles with the careless abandon most kids in the Fringes are missing. The older one is more subdued, but the smile that lights her face is enough to make my throat lock up.
“Wow,” Harry whispers to me. “If I had his help to get them to agree to nap time, I would look five years younger.”
The kids walk calmly to the car, focused on something only they can see. Once they’re inside, Ciprian blinks and his eyes come back into focus.
High-pitched complaints follow, and he winces. “I don’t have a clue what they’re saying, but something tells me I’ve opened a box I won’t be able to close.” The skin at the corner of his eyes wrinkles slightly as he smiles, bracketing the dark circles under them.
“You’re their new favorite toy.” Harry pats him on the arm, then wipes at her eyes, ferociously brushing a tear away as Ciprian waves at her and walks back to the car.
“I’m sending Anika to make things easier,” she tells me. “She’s got the language mostly mastered. She’ll be able to help the other two adjust, although I hate to lose her.”
“We’ll make sure she’s safe,” I assure her, hating that we have to separate them at all. Anger burns in my gut. If we had the resources to outfit Harry properly, maybe Anika could stay. “I’ll text you as soon as they’re settled.”
I turn to walk away, and Harry smacks my butt hard enough to bruise. I look back at her in disbelief. “Chin up, Alistair,” she orders, handing me a small bag. “Those kids are tough. They’ll be fine.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I back away slowly, making a show out of rubbing my ass.
“Don’t call me ma’am.” She scowls. “It makes me sound older than I am.”
