“That’s what I’m still trying to find out.” Zane sat up and leaned forward, his arms braced on his thighs. “I’ve got a two-year gap before he turns up at an overseas university. After graduation, he ended up working with a handful of companies scattered throughout Europe, each position lasting a few months here, a few months there, before he stuck with an Italian company for just over a year. Then he was back in the US, and he made steady progress until he reached Pythia.”
As much as she would have liked to be able to use Russ’s spotty employment to nudge her sister to break off her engagement, it wasn’t enough. “Other than the gap, it sounds like any upwardly mobile young professional.”
Zane’s lips curled, not in amusement but with a feral kind of anticipation. “Sure, but if you scrape away the polish, you’ll find that some of those European companies are just pretty shells.”
Next to her, Grayson straightened as if catching the scent, but she was still nose blind. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“A couple only exist on paper, and the legit ones have been absorbed into larger corporations.”
Her hands tightened around her mug. A whisper of warning drifted through her mind, and she gave it voice. “He targeted them.”
Zane’s attention on her sharpened. “That was my conclusion.”
The whispers grew. “And now he’s targeting Pythia.” And Sofia. “Why?”
Zane looked at Grayson then back at her. “I don’t know yet. And it’s going to take me more time than I think you have to find out, but I will. I’ve already spoken to a couple of old coworkers. They didn’t have much to add, but my takeaway is Russell’s still playing mind games—he’s just gotten better at it. He has no problem taking credit for others’ work, and so long as it benefits him, he’s game for anything.”
Grayson stirred. “Did you run into anything that indicated Cabal involvement?”
“No, but you and I both know if it’s there, that shit gets buried deep.” The Hunter’s attention narrowed on Grayson. “Why?”
Grayson raised his brow in silent question. Understanding he was asking permission to share, she dipped her chin, granting it.
He turned back to Zane. “I was able to confirm that the hex on Sofia is Cabal based.”
Zane blinked once. “Well, shit.” He sank back into the chair without breaking eye contact with Grayson. His fingers tapped out a slow rhythm on the armrest. “How much did our friend charge you for that?”
Grayson flicked a discomfited look at Cass, and she knew he’d left something out of their earlier conversation. “A favor.”
That answer did not make Zane happy. “From…?”
“Me,” Cass offered.
He looked from Cass to Grayson. “He’d want more than that.”
“He did.”
Zane’s expression darkened. “Dammit, Grayson, you know?—”
“Drop it.” There was an edge to Grayson’s voice. “I’ve got it, Zane.”
The other man didn’t look convinced.
“Grayson,” Cass warned, not at all thrilled at being left in the dark.
He turned to her. “Not now, Cass. Later,” he said with a hint of defensiveness.
She studied him, debating how hard to push this. His gaze didn’t waver.
Give and take. The quiet voice in her mind sounded suspiciously like her yaya. She heeded it, reluctantly giving in. “Fine. Later.” She set her coffee aside and started to rise.
Grayson put hand on her leg, stopping her. “Where are you going?”
“To get my phone and text my mother for Russ’s address. I’ve got some questions for him.”
Zane managed a disbelieving snort. “And you think he’ll just decide to cough up the answers?”
She met the Hunter’s amused gaze and felt hers harden. “I don’t think he’ll have a choice.”
