“You remember Terry, one of Nazario’s assistants?” James asked. “These are all his movements from the last two weeks.”
“At least, all his phone’s movements,” Kit said around a mouthful of crust.
Suspicion tickled Darius’s mind. “Are you going to tell me how you got this data?”
“Nope,” James said shamelessly.
Christ, what idiocy had they been up to? But James had a weak spot. Same as Darius.
“What would Kit say if I asked him?” Darius asked.
Kit shoved more pizza in his mouth, wide eyed and innocent.
“Since when was Kit our data guy?” James answered, still breezy. “Don’t ask Kit. I told him not to tell you, and he’d get all conflicted about… wait, maybe youshouldask Kit. Make him squirm.”
Mouth still full, Kit flipped James off.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Darius said.
“Yeah,” James agreed.
Darius sighed. “Was everything safe?”
“Yeah,” James repeated.
“I’m not asking you,” Darius said sternly.
Kit swallowed his pizza. “Everything was safe.” He tucked his feet under Darius’s knee. “But it’ll be useless if we don’t use this data.”
“Fine.” Darius dropped a hand to circle Kit’s ankle, idly stroking the pointy bones. “What’s the headline?”
“He’s visited four different art galleries over the past two weeks,” James said, his amusement gone. “Some of them multiple times.”
Kit looked up. This was apparently news to him too. “He didn’t exactly seem cultured.”
“You’re just mad about him climbing all over Holden,” James accused, but Darius could tell his banter was half-hearted.
“In a very uncultured way,” Kit grumbled.
Darius didn’t want to know. “You think the galleries are a front for something?”
James was quiet for a moment. “My dad was an artist. These are all galleries he exhibited at.”
Shit.
Puzzles didn’t always form a pretty picture. With every piece, reality was harder to deny—Evelyn Zhou really was one of the Rat Kings.
Darius drove the truck to the new house, while James and Kit followed in James’s car. Well, one of James’s cars.
Well, Darius assumed they were following. When he left them, Kit was settled in the front seat, gluing himself to James’s body. Kit offered himself as comfort, distraction, whatever James needed.
Darius had seen it early on—Kit was good for James. It had taken Darius longer to realize Kit was good for him too.
Even longer to realize they were both good for Kit in return, as crazy as it sounded. Months ago, Kit never would have shown his emotions so freely. Comfort and kisses were tools of manipulation, not genuine affection.
The fiery but empty little mannequin chained to Bishop’s staircase was gone.
Kit had always been perceptive, though. Driving along in the rattling moving truck, Darius was glad he’d gone separately. He needed space to bury his lack of surprise.
