The next morning
“Danny? Can you hear me?”
Claire tucked her phone against her shoulder and opened the hotel room door. Waving in the room service waiter, she checked the volume on her phone with a frown.
“Danny?”
The waiter pushed their breakfast cart inside and parked it near the table. He uncovered the myriad of dishes they’d ordered. The steam carried the scent toward her and her empty stomach grumbled. A reminder of all she’d done to work up an appetite the previous night.
“Here,” her brother mumbled at last, and she forced her attention away from the food. “You know it’s like one in the morning, don’t you?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt your lunch break? It’s not like you were asleep.”
“You don’t know. I could have been.”
Sure, and a housecat enjoyed the morning paper for the insightful editorials. Danny’s regular hours had more in common with a vampire’s than those of an average human. Most of the time he went to bed as the sun was coming up, not going down. Which was exactly why she’d waited to call him.
“Listen, Danny, I need your help.”
Despite whatever plans Hugh and Laird had to plot Jameson’s untimely demise, she needed to continue with a more sane, less murderous strategy to circumvent the agent.
Making the men legal citizens of Scotland, or at least projecting the appearance of legality was key. After all, it had worked well enough for Hugh. It could work for them, too.
And her hacker brother was the man for the job.
“Again? Truly unprecedented,” he drawled. “Are you in trouble again?”
“No, but trouble is after me.”
He slurped loudly in her ear—Red Bull most likely—before a snort of laughter reached her. “You know, my sister, for years you never did anything interesting at all. You’re much more fun these days.”
“I’m so glad I can amuse you.” She put the eye roll he couldn’t see into those words.
Danny cackled again. “Oh, you do. You do.”
They could do this all day, no doubt. Trade one snide comment for another. While it would be diverting, they had more vital territory to cover.
The scent of bacon warred for her attention as much as her brother’s random commentary. She inhaled and released a sigh of yearning. “Listen, Hugh has some friends here who are having the same problem he did an—”
“You do have a way of riling the Feds, don’t you?” Danny interrupted without apology. “I know and I’ve been working on it.”
Claire frowned at the phone. Had she heard correctly? She put the conversation on speaker. “What do you mean, you know?”
“You know how I told you about my new neighbor?” The question was muffled. Most likely because a slice of pizza had found its way into his mouth, as usual.
Hugh and Rhys seated themselves at the table and dug into the food. Laird lifted Hermione onto his lap and doled out a plateful of eggs and bannocks. A piece of bacon on Hugh’s plate called out to her and Claire couldn’t resist snatching it up.
Hugh rapped his fork across her knuckles. “Ye dinnae want that. Yer a vegetarian, remember?”
She was. Damn it, but it smelled too heavenly to deny. “Baby wants meat,” she told him and bit into the crisp goodness with a moan to rival any Hugh had wrung from her last night.
What was Danny talking about again?
“What neighbor?”
“The creepy old Irish dude down the hall. I told you about him, remember?” he admonished. “Nut job, most like, but the minions think he must be clairvoyant or something.”
“Irish?”
