With the location pinned, we arrive at a club and wait in the lobby for Drako. He shows up wearing flip-flops, swim trunks, and a towel.
“What are you doing?” I ask, mildly shocked by his completely inappropriate getup. “Are we even in the right place, Drako? Or did you lose him?”
“I’m improvising. And stop being paranoid! I know exactly where he is. I have a plan.”
“And that plan is…?” I prompt, like you do with children. Drako rolls his eyes.
“He’s in the sauna. Nina’s boyfriend is in the sauna.”
I could punch him just for that shitty nickname, but I hold back. “We’re going after him. Your clothes are inside.” He tosses us a locker key. “You’re welcome.”
“Clothes?” Atlas asks.
“Uh-huh. Bought some for you too. Again—you’re welcome!” Drako says, already moving away.
“And where are you going?” I demand.
“To entertain my brother-in-law while you get dressed,” he says, winking.
I step forward, ready to hit him, but Atlas and Apollo shove me back.
“Save your energy for your girlfriend’s boyfriend.”
…
When I reach the sauna vestibule, Drako is posted by the door like a guard dog. The jokes are gone; he waits in silence, expression locked down.
“He’s in there alone,” he tells us, nodding toward the door behind him.
“I think you should stay out here, Drako,” Atlas says—half request, half decision.
“Why? I have a plan,” he whispers, as if everything’s perfectly mapped out.
“Exactly.” Atlas shuts him down. “You remember the last time you had a perfect plan, right?”
“That was an accident.”
“And the time before that?”
“I had it under control,” Drako hisses. “It’s not my fault you two always panic and ruin it before it works.” He sighs, thenrelents with a mocking bow, stepping aside. “After I do all the work, the heroes come collect the medals.”
I put my hand on the sauna door and take a deep breath before pulling it open.
“Maybe I should stay out here too,” Apollo decides.
I look at him, questioning.
“In case you need a lawyer,” he explains, nodding at Atlas. “He’s too upright—wouldn’t bribe anyone to get you out fast.”
“You would bribe someone?” Atlas asks.
“Better hope I do. If anyone asks me anything, I’ll say I didn’t see shit, don’t know shit—I was just admiring the scenery,” Drako threatens.
“Good to know,” Atlas and I say at the same time.
“Could you close the door, please?” Oliver’s voice comes from inside—polite enough to irritate me instantly.
“Of course we can,” I reply, sour, stepping in with Atlas beside me. “We need to talk.”
