“When?” Mal asked.
Eagle shrugged.
Force snorted. “You’re full of shit. Nothing is going to happen.”
Eagle’s eyes flashed. “The hail of hellfire is going to descend on nonbelievers. On holy day, the one we’ve waited so long for, sinners will burn.” Absolute conviction colored his tone.
“What holy day?” Mal asked.
Eagle flexed his forearms. “This place looks secure. But not so much, huh?” In a shockingly quick movement, he jerked away from the table and pulled the ring right out of it. He bunched his legs and flew toward Mal, fists already punching.
Instinct took over. Mal came partially up, took the hit, grabbed Eagle by the shoulders, and pivoted, putting him down. The angle was wrong for full control, so Eagle’s head hit the concrete before his body. He went limp.
Mal flipped him over and felt his pulse. Strong and steady. He stepped up, his fists clenched and adrenaline cutting a swath through his body. He needed to hit something. Now.
Force strode forward, looking down at the unconscious man. “Guess the table wasn’t sturdy enough for the ring.”
Mal slowly turned his head. Amusement shocked him, and he snorted. “Guess not.”
Force opened the door. “You have to go. Sounds like you’d better get into the inner circle sooner rather than later. Whatever this flash of fire is, it’s happening soon.”
Mal stepped into the hall. “We need to find out about the holy day. What, and more importantly, when.”
Force locked the door, and they made it down the hallway into the elevator area.
Wolfe was waiting, slipping a Goldfish Cracker into his pocket. “Well?”
Force nodded. “Yeah. Take a harder line with the other guy. Do what you have to do.”
Mal rolled his shoulders. “We have to have some rules.” Even though they’d declared themselves a de facto dark site, at some point, they’d have to turn the prisoners over to the system. “Eagle wasn’t wrong. The guy has rights.”
“Not at the moment. I’ll get him to talk. I promise.” Wolfe pulled out Kat and handed him to Angus. The kitten was now a fluffy pure white with big blue eyes. Apparently, he’d had a bath. He meowed in protest. “Take my cat.” Then Wolfe disappeared through the small doorway, ducking to keep from banging his head against the doorframe.
Mal looked at the cat and then Force, unease in his gut. “We can’t just let him loose on somebody in our custody.”
Force gingerly took the cat toward the bull pen. “Tell that to the people about to meet hellfire somewhere. Go to work, West. Get your head in the game.”
Mal eyed the closed door. One thing at a time. “I’ll report in.”
“You want an earbud?” Force called back.
“No.” There was a good chance they’d search him if they didn’t just shoot him in the head on sight. “I’ll be in touch when I can.” He was already becoming somebody else when he stepped into the elevator.
Again.
* * *
Pippa was halfway to Trixie’s when her phone buzzed. Her real phone. The burner was still in the pretty beach bag she’d bought somewhere in Florida last time she’d been on the move. She looked down, and her body jolted. Malcolm.
There was no reason not to answer him. She should be home working and staying under the radar. If she didn’t answer, he’d wonder why.
“Hello,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. Being out in the world gave her a stomachache, so it was more difficult than she’d hoped.
“Hi, beautiful,” he said, his voice warm. “I wanted to check on you.” A horn blared in the background. Oh no. Was he headed home for a late lunch or something?
She tried to give a small chuckle. “Good afternoon. I missed you.” God, she was terrible at this. Her head started to hurt. “Are you headed my way? I’d be happy to make you an afternoon snack.”
“No, I’m on the job.”
