It almost felt as if they were a distraction. A way to keep Kenna and her family busy. A way to test what they would do—or what resources they had now.
Was that why it seemed off?
Nora set the tray in front of them on the table and came back with another for the booth. Zeyla grabbed her cheeseburger and took a huge bite.
Kenna leaned her head toward Jax, and he said grace for them both in a quiet voice. She squeezed his knee and opened her eyes.
Sylvia Caughton stood just inside the front door, wearing dark jeans and a black sweater with a dark gray coat over it. She looked exactly like the photo on the news outlet website. Like a redheaded actress who probably disliked how many freckles she had and worked extra hard not to have any extra pounds on her body. She was highly trained and dangerous.
Zeyla whipped out of her seat and turned, raising her gun to point at the woman in the doorway. Jax stood as well, his gun drawn.
One of the men at the bar slid off his stool and rushed into the kitchen. She heard a “Hey!” and then a door slammed.
Sylvia lifted her hands. “You haven’t been getting my messages, have you?”
“You want to talk?” Jax asked her, his voice ringing with authority.
“I came here unarmed.”
He crossed the room halfway. “Hands against the wall. If you are unarmed and you just want to talk, you get patted down.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sylvia sat across the table from Kenna, who was going to eat in front of the woman even if it was rude. Kenna grabbed a napkin and wiped some grease from the fries off her fingers. “Did you send the police on a wild goose chase so you could come here?”
The woman had a placid expression. Kenna wasn’t sure why she seemed to be able to tell that someone was aDominatusoperative. It wasn’t anything mystical or in her genetic code. More like the way they walked or held their heads. Like they weren’t quite comfortable being out in polite society.
Kenna was just mad this woman was interrupting their meal. Jax had his arms folded across his chest. Maizie had stopped working on her computer, and Preston had put his phone down. Even Nora was listening from the counter.
Kenna grabbed another fry and dipped it in her milkshake like this was a normal meal with friends. “Are you gonna answer the question?”
“We hardly need to be concerned with local law enforcement.” Sylvia had the edge of an accent that sounded European.
“Because you’re above the law, is that it?” Definitely aDominatusway of thinking.
Sylvia glanced over at the booth where Maizie and Preston sat. “Do they have to be here?” Her attention settled mostly on Zeyla, who returned it with a death stare so cold it could have frozen water in a glass.
“Yes, they have to be here.” Kenna wasn’t changing any of her habits or negotiating with this woman. She could ask what this woman wanted and let her talk, or they could get right to the point. “Where is Ellayna?”
Sylvia held her hands clasped between her knees, and her legs were crossed one over the other. It gave her an elongated appearance—and made it look like she was cold. Probably because of the ice in her veins.
“That’s for you to figure out, isn’t it?”
Kenna tipped her head to the side. “So you aren’t going to help or give me a tip? Point me in the right direction, at least.” Or reveal that she had no idea.
ButDominatusprided itself on being in control of everything, or at least, knowing everything. So like the identity of the kidnapper. Or the place where they were being held…
Was that so hard?
“The rules of engagement prohibit me from giving you assistance.”
Kenna stared at her. Then she looked at Zeyla. “Any idea what she’s talking about?”
Zeyla didn’t look at her, she kept all her attention on Sylvia. Looking for any reason whatsoever to get out of her seat and intervene in the situation again. End the conversation. Possibly end Sylvia herself—with lethal force. “Wartime contingencies, or some kind of grand operation going on?”
“If I ask, is she going to tell me what’s going on?”
Zeyla asked, “Do they ever?”
