“Lasagna and organized crime,” Voodoo said with a lazy grin when my gaze landed on his. “This is balance, baby.”
A smile curved my lips. He loved me. That just set off a stupid set of bubbles detonating through my system. Was it cognitive dissonance to be so happy and so worried and freaked out all at the same time?
Probably. But, here we were.
I exhaled slowly, letting the warmth from the kitchen seep into the fear that kept rattling around inside me. “Okay,” I said. “To sum up, Maikel Castillo is one of the names. Zander Visser is another. And Phillip Roja… or Rojas… we still need to chase the spelling.”
Legend nodded. “AB’s running variations. British accent, Spanish last name—it narrows things.”
“Unless it’s fake,” I pointed out.
“Then we cross-reference accents with travel corridors, visas, or shell corporations,” AB replied. “Accent’s harder to fake consistently over a course of years.”
“So we hunt through a forest of snakes,” I said softly.
Bones touched my shoulder. “It’s not strictly hunting. We’re tracking. We may have to backtrack, but we’re still taking it one step, one print at a time.”
Legend slid the garlic bread into the oven, humming under his breath. “Besides,” he added, “we’re doing it together. Makes us damn hard to beat.”
“And we have lasagna.” Voodoo tipped his head back and rocked his chair up on two legs as he let out a devilish chuckle. “Evil organizations fear lasagna.”
That earned a laugh from all of us, small but real.
Goblin trotted over, nudging my leg until I bent to scratch behind his ears. His tail thumped, steady and grounding.
Home. Or the closest thing to it.
I wasn’t foolish enough to believe we were safe in the world—not with the names being laid out on AB’s laptop like little flags on a battlefield.
The oven timer dinged, and Legend grinned like he’d just won a championship. “Darling Gracie, and the rest of you reprobates, lasagna is officially served.”
Bones gave my waist a squeeze before he dipped his head to press a kiss to my throat. “About time. I was beginning to forget what food looked like outside of a protein bar.”
Voodoo leaned against the counter, arms crossed, smirking. “You’re not going to melt if you wait five more minutes, Cap.”
“I’m not melting, I’m starving,” Bones countered, and the argument dissolved into laughter.
Legend swept the pans onto the table, steam curling upward, rich sauce and cheese wafting through the kitchen. Garlic bread followed, golden and crisp, and he set down a large bowl of salad with a flourish. “Now, who wants to eat like civilized humans instead of zombie mercenaries?”
I perched at the end of the table, Goblin circling my feet, tail flicking in anticipation. Legend gave me a playful smirk. “Or… civilized humans with a very special guest in their lap.”
Before I knew it, he had scooted his chair out slightly, and I settled onto his lap. “What are you doing?” I asked, half amused, half expecting a trick.
“Feeding you,” he said simply, sliding a forkful of lasagna onto my plate and offering it up. “You look too good to let you shovel it into yourself alone.” His warm gaze held mine, mischievous and soft all at once.
I laughed, taking a bite. “You’re terrible.”
“I’m wonderful,” he corrected, feeding me another bite with a grin. “And don’t even think about arguing. You’re in my lap.”
Bones groaned. “I can’t even look at this without my teeth rotting from the sugar.”
Voodoo leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “Jealousy is unbecoming, Bones.”
“I’m not jealous,” Bones muttered, but his jaw gave him away.
“You’re all ridiculous.” AB just smirked, still scanning the laptop while stealing a few forkfuls of salad.
“AB, you should take a break.”
