“Yeah,” I said. It didn’t.
The truth was clawing up my throat. The man had seensomething. He’drecognizedsomething. He tried to reportme.
Bones must have read it in my face. He always did. “He doesn’t get another look at you,” Bones said, voice low enough the threat seemed to vibrate within it. “Not one.”
That helped. More than I expected.
“Alphabet,” Lunchbox said, tapping his earpiece, “talk to us.”
AB’s voice came through thin, breathless. “Team of four—maybe five—moving out of Pier C now. Fast. Not subtle. They’re looking for the spotter. And probably whoever was with him.”
“ETA?” Voodoo asked.
“Two minutes, tops. You need to relocate or dig in.”
Bones looked at Voodoo. Voodoo looked at Bones. Some silent calculus passed between them.
“We extract the spotter first,” Bones said. “We can’t have him screaming when they fan out. Or recognizing Grace again.”
The guy jolted upright. “I won’t say anything—just let me go?—”
Legend squatted behind him and clamped a massive hand around the back of his neck, not squeezing, just controlling. “Man, don’t beg. It’s awkward for everyone.”
I exhaled slowly, trying to anchor myself. Goblin pressed against me, sensing the tremor I didn’t realize I’d let slip.
Voodoo stepped close to me—not touching, but near enough that his warmth cut through the wind. His voice dropped so only I could hear. “He’s scared because he should be. But we’re not hurting him, okay? We just can’t let him make our lives harder.”
My chest eased. A little.
The spotter looked between the four of us, eyes darting like a trapped animal. “Where are you taking me?”
Bones answered simply. “Somewhere quiet.”
Not threatening. Not reassuring.
Just true.
Voodoo jerked his chin at Legend. “Bag him.”
Legend pulled a spare beanie from his jacket pocket—it looked like something he’d either stolen or knitted himself—honestly, if one of them turned out to knit it really wouldn’t shock me—and yanked it down over the man’s eyes. Darkness. Panic. A stifled sound.
Bones stood, hauled the guy to his feet again with one hand, and looked at me.
“Stay between me and Voodoo,” he ordered. “Lunchbox rear.”
“I’m not helpless,” I murmured, though I still moved instantly into place.
“Never said you were,” Bones said. “But you’re ours and you’re protected.”
Those words hit a very stupid, embarrassing place in me. Particularly from Bones, because my boney boy had held himself back for so damn long.
No time for that.
AB’s voice crackled back in. “They’re splitting—two taking the west dock, two moving toward the admin building. One holding back by Pier C like a coordinator.”
“Then we move now,” Bones said.
Voodoo gave him a curt nod. “Utility corridor to the service road. Then behind the seawall.”
