“Men like Thurston are moths,” Kael says. “They circle the same light until it burns them down. He fixated on Shiloh, and then another woman very briefly—Harriet somebody. I think that was just to get close to Shiloh. But Tallulah’s the one who helped take his partnership apart.”
The file in front of me has a new page tucked into the back now. A printed copy of a forum thread. Usernames that mean nothing to most people.
I recognize one.
Nightjar.
“She’s been talking about him online,” Kael says. “Under one of her handles. He’s not stupid. He probably watches the same spaces she does.”
Of course he does. Predators go where the prey gathers.
“She did good work last year,” I say slowly. “Better than half the analysts I’ve met.”
“She also paints targets on herself like she’s wearing a fucking bulletproof vest.” Kael leans back, eyes narrowing. “Which is why I need you to go down there and keep an eye on her.”
I shake my head to clear it, unsure if I heard Kael correctly. Because I could’ve sworn he said he was sending me to bumfuck Egypt to watch over his kid cousin, Kevin-Costner-bodyguard-style, and that’s not going to work for me.
I’m a lot of things to Kael and the East Coast Irish, ECI for short. I’m a closer, a heavy, the muscle, and along with Ryan, his right hand.
But I’m not a fucking babysitter.
“You want me to do what, now?”
From the opposite side of the scarred metal desk he sits behind, Kael lances me with a stare. “You heard me just fine.”
I cross my arms over my chest, the material of my shirt pulling across the shoulders with the gesture. Can’t ever get a fucking shirt to fit right. “Maybe I did, and what the fuck, boss?”
“Is there a problem?” One of Kael’s eyebrows arcs. I’m not so far gone that I don’t recognize the sign to tread carefully. I shift my stance, forcing myself to relax my shoulders, and choose my next words with care.
“I feel like I could be more use doing anything else, that’s all. Twisting someone’s arm, shaking something loose, breaking a few bones…you know. The usual.”
Abandoning the paperwork he was absorbed in when I stormed the tiny office behind the bar, my employer leans back in his chair, its Naugahyde creaking as he shifts his weight.
“Let’s review,” he says, voice mild.
Shit.Obviously I didn’t choose the right words.
“You want to go play the heavy while my baby cousin is stalked and potentially murdered by a psychotic killer responsible for the deaths of …” He throws his hands up. “…I don’t fucking know how many women.”
“No, that’s not what —”
“My baby cousin, I might add, who’s a brilliant fucking hacker and has assisted me and our fine organization on countless occasions.”
“Well, I didn’t—”
He holds up a hand. “The same baby cousin who I’ve been trying to get here in Philly for three years—ever since her mother, God rest her soul, passed.” He makes the sign of the cross.
I don’t reply.
Both eyebrows are perfect arches now. “Did I miss anything?”
“I’ll go pack, boss.” I stifle a sigh. “With the deepest of joy and gratitude for the honor of—”
Kael picks up the ink pen he had dropped to the desk and leans back over the papers strewn around. Man needs a fucking secretary. “Shut it while you’re ahead, Bran. You shouldn’t need too much…bring her here as soon as possible.”
“Got it.” I turn to leave.
Kael’s voice stops me on the threshold. “And Bran?”
