A flash of arms around Dvorak’s legs.
A muffled yelp.
And then?—
Splash.
Dvorak vanished beneath the surface like a stone tossed by an angry god.
Grace didn’t flinch. She just pivoted smoothly and continued her stride, as serene as a model on a runway, letting the men behind her erupt into shouts and whistles like they had nothing to do with her.
I lost it. Straight-up barked a laugh in the SUV.
Bones let out a gust of air that might’ve been relief or amusement or some dangerous mix of both.
Voodoo snorted. “Just like taking candy from a baby.”
“I got him,” Lunchbox said a second later, voice triumphant as he hauled Dvorak under the dockline. “Package secured.”
Grace kept walking—hips swaying, sunglasses on, tote bouncing—never once looking back.
I shook my head, still smiling like a fool.
“Good work, Gracie,” I muttered, heart doing something stupid. “Weapons-grade badass. Pretty sure I just fell in love with you twice while watching.”
Bones exhaled. “Get her back to the SUV.”
“On it,” Voodoo said, already moving.
I leaned back in my seat, pulse steady and satisfied.
Target snatched. Grace flawless. Mission unfolding exactly the way we’d wanted.
Her voice came back warm and smug. “Told you I’d be good.” She was so much better than good it was ridiculous.
“So good,” I said, “you are definitely getting at least two cookies.”
That earned me a throaty laugh and I grinned.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
GRACE
The Miami safe house was cool, dim, and smelled faintly of industrial cleaner and old hardwood. It was not as nice as the last place in New Jersey, but definitely nicer than a couple of the other bolt holes we’d used. They really had mastered the art of functional, quiet, and safe because my dangerous men had decided to make it so.
Dvorak was downstairs in the reinforced laundry room, zip-tied, gagged, and very, very angry. He’d been sputtering in Russian, German, and I was pretty sure Czech or maybe all three before they shut the door. Now it was blessedly muffled.
We weren’t touching him.
Not yet.
Apparently, you didn’t interrogate when you were tired and hungry. Bones said he already wanted to hurt him, but we needed it to employproductivetechniques not just pain. I was still learning how this world worked.
Upstairs, in the open kitchen, the guys had torn into takeout cartons. We had a little bit of everything from everywhere. I was actually a fan of the tenders and fries so I stuck with them. Fried food or not, it was damn tasty. Goblin sprawled under the table, tongue lolling, waiting for someone to drop chicken.
Legend finally stopped pacing and leaned against the counter and gesturing with one of his french fries. “He’s going to be a problem.”
