I make my face a mask. “Where is it?”
“St. Peter’s Church in Brooklyn. Is that… Can we go?”
We’d need a car, new clothes, a veil, a faraday case…
“Nico?”
God, the way she says that makes me want to drop her in caramel and suck her clean. I grab her hand and drag her toward my Charger. “Of course, we can go. What time’s the ceremony or whatever?”
Her face lights up. “One. Can we actually go?”
“Yes. Now get in the fucking car.”
I drive out of Velvet House and onto the highway as fast as I can without attracting cops, making calls the whole way. January sits beside me like a hot lieutenant. Morelli would kill me if he knew what we were doing. But he won’t know and neither will anyone else.
When I’m done making the calls, the car falls into silence. January’s twisting her hands in her lap, adorably nervous or scared or whatever.
“You can pick a radio station if you want?”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them and I immediately regret it. I hate everyone’s taste in music. I’ve killed because one of Adriano’s guys wouldn’t lay off the deathcore.
January scrolls through stations and I wait for whatever twinkly teenage shit she’s into to pollute my eardrums. Then a low, familiar voice fills my ears. “Is this the Black Keys?”
She takes her hand away from the dial. “Yeah. Is that okay? I feel like it’s good traveling music…”
“It’s fine, Tits,” I say, settling into the driver’s seat. I don’t know how she keeps surprising me, but she does.
An hour later, we pull into my buddy Dave’s chop shop. I’ve arranged to switch the Dodge for a tasteful old black beamer.
“Get out but stay near the car,” I tell January, then walk to the counter where Dave’s waiting for me with the keys.
“You got the faraday case?” I ask.
“In the back. And there’s a full tank of gas,” he says, staring through the office window at January. She’s perched on the hood of the Dodge, looking hotter than any of the calendar girls plastered on the walls. “Where the fuck did you find her, you lucky asshole?”
I smirk. “You don’t wanna know.”
“I’ve gotta get to Dreams again. Whatever she charges, I’ll pay double.”
“Then you’ll need two lives. January doesn’t work at Dreams, she belongs to Velvet House.”
Dave looks like all his nightmares have come true at once. “Fuck! Sorry, Doc.”
“I’ll be back this afternoon. Keep the Dodge safe.”
“On my life, Doc! I swear!”
I lead January to the shiny BMW and hold out my hand. “Gimme your phone.”
I expect her to whine, but the little lamb just hands it over. I love this new, uncaged January Whitehall. She’s so much brighter and less annoying. I slip her phone and mine into the faraday case and toss it in the back seat.
“Let’s go, Tits.”
“What’s the case for?” she asks, as we pull out of the lot.
“It blocks electromagnetic fields. Means people can’t track our phones.”
“People like Mr. Parker?”
