Smart girl.
Her phone stays in her hand like a weapon. I don’t need to guess what thread is open on the screen. She’s been on the app all day.
I stay across the street, far enough behind that I don’t have to turn my head and make it obvious I’m looking. I’m just another stranger in the crowd to everyone else.
She turns down her street, and I’m pretty sure I see him before she does.
Two cars down from the front entrance of her building with his engine running… His hands fidget as they rest on the steering wheel, twisting a ring on his finger like it’s got all his attention until he sees her. I can’t see very far beyond that, but I bet he’s in the same expensive black jacket as before.
Daniel.
This fucking bastard.
He doesn’t open his door or roll down his window or call out to her. He just sits there, watching her walk home. Observing the way she keeps her shoulders squared, even when she glances around like she feels him behind her.
He’s learning her patterns.
He’s dangerous, but it has the potential to get so much worse because we can’t get close enough to block him yet.
I slip into the mouth of the alley, phone already in hand.
“She’s almost at her building,” I murmur. “And he’s back. Same jacket too.”
“I don’t give a fuck about what he’s wearing.” Silas’s voice crackles through the speaker against my ear, calm and precise, like a surgeon with a scalpel. “Plate?”
“Obscured,” I reply. “I’ll get a better angle next time. If I try now, one of them will see me, and we’re not ready for that, right?”
I swear I hear his teeth grind. “You’re that close?”
“Close enough.”
Across the street, Eris swipes her key fob against the pad beside the door and pushes it open with her forearm.
She doesn’t look back.
But I see it anyway… The tension in her taut muscles, the slight pause before she steps inside, discrete as she glances over her shoulder. It’s the tether between instinct and composure, pulling tight enough to vibrate visibly.
She’s adapting.
This is what survival looks like when you refuse to run.
I like that about her.
But then again, I like a lot of things about her.
And that keeps my thoughts occupied as I walk back to the loft. Surprisingly, we’re only about six blocks from her swanky apartment complex. She’s downtown, and we’re on the edge of the warehouse district.
By the time I get home, the interior lights are off, letting the sun illuminate the open living area. Silas has ordered some mystery takeout for lunch, leaving me an unopened box on the table. Computer fans hum, creating an ambient background noise.
Jace is already near the door, black duffel slung over his shoulder, posture coiled tight. He still hasn’t slept, too wired and restless.
“You’re going?” I ask.
He nods. “She needs the cameras.”
“She won’t like it.”
“She doesn’t have to.” His tone is more resigned than defensive.
