He handed me a battered spiral notepad. “Write it down.”
I did, my hand shaking just a little. “That’s all I’ve got.”
“It’s enough,” he said. He was already dialing Wrecker before I finished the sentence.
I watched him cross to the sliding balcony door, back straight, shoulders squared. He spoke low and fast, tossing off codes and acronyms like a man born for this. I could see the animal in him now—alert, dangerous, a wall you could crash a truck into and still not dent.
When he hung up, he turned to me. “Wrecker says he’ll have a hit within the hour. If it’s live, we move. If not, we go anyway. We can’t let Steiner get to them first.”
“Do you think Brie will even talk to me?” I hated how small my voice sounded.
“She won’t come willingly to anyone but you,” Jess said. “She’s still your sister, even after all this.”
I wanted to believe him. But I knew Brie. She’d spent her entire life having everything given to her. She always got her way. I love her, but she’s spoiled rotten.
Jess must have seen the worry on my face, because he sat next to me and pulled me onto his lap. My body molded to his instinctively, like it had been waiting all day for this. He held me there, arms wrapped around my waist, and for a long time neither of us spoke.
Finally I managed, “If she doesn’t come with me, she’ll wind up with Steiner. Or in a train car. Or heaven forbid, in the arms of that demon king.”
He buried his face in my neck, breathing deep. “You’ll need to drive that home to her if she resists. Scare the shit out of her. Even if she still resists, that’s not going to happen. I won’t let it.”
I nodded, even though I didn’t believe it completely.
“Go pack,” he said gently. “Travel light. If it goes down tonight, we leave in a matter of hours.”
My legs were numb when I stood, so I leaned against the counter for a second before heading to the bedroom. I grabbed a selection of the new sweaters, jeans, and leggings that I’d gotten since I arrived here. Jess had gotten me a pair of soft leather boots that had become my favorite footwear, so they went in the bag.
It felt surreal, packing for a mission I might never come back from. I should have been afraid, but all I felt was the buzzing numbness of adrenaline. I tucked a small bottle of perfume in the side pocket, then added a dog-eared paperback, just for the comfort of it. At the last second, I crammed in a notebook and a new pen. For Brie, I told myself. She’d want something to draw with.
When I zipped the bag, I realized my hands were shaking. Not a little, but a lot.
I carried it back to the living room and set it by the door.
Jess was standing there, just watching me, his expression soft. “You ready?” he asked.
“Not really,” I admitted.
He smiled. “Me neither.”
But we both knew we’d go, anyway.
The next few hours passed in a blur of waiting. I drank more coffee, picked at the split ends in my hair, and paced in circles around the kitchen until I thought I might wear a rut in the laminate. Jess busied himself with weapons—cleaning, packing, checking each one with the careful love of a man who trusted metal more than luck. He didn’t say much, but every few minutes, he’d look up and check on me, like he needed the reassurance that I hadn’t disappeared again.
At three, my phone buzzed. It was Wrecker, the message short and to the point:
PILOT GOOD TO GO 4AM FLIGHT. PACK LIGHT. MEET AT PEARL’S TONIGHT, 7. BRING ALL ESSENTIALS. -W
I read it twice, then showed it to Jess. He nodded once, snapped the magazine into place with a click that echoed in the tiny apartment.
“We leave at four,” he said, voice even. “Tonight we eat, then go dark. No social, no phones except the one Wrecker gives you.”
“Where are we going until then?” I asked.
He smiled, that half-crooked thing that had won me over in the first place. “I want to show you something.”
I didn’t press for details. I just shouldered my duffel and followed him down the stairs, out into the chilly spring afternoon. The sky was the color of dishwater, but sunlight kept punching through in random spots, setting the wet grass ablaze. Jess’s truck was waiting at the curb, a big Ford with plush leather seats. He popped the lock and held the passenger side open for me, just like before everything went to hell. Always the gentleman.
We drove west, deeper into pack territory, past several houses. After about ten minutes, the land spread out flat and endless, a checkerboard of pasture and wildflowers, bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush crawling up the bar ditches. I rolled thewindow down and let the wind tangle my hair, the air sharp with the smell of green things growing.
