Dr. Love blinked at him. “As in—”
“Send them onvacationwith their boy, Templeton.” Velle stared to get his point across.
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“Call a fake meeting,” Rook answered, and Velle nodded.
“We get them alone and do what we should’ve done from the start.”
Dr. Love appeared doubtful, but Velle added, “If The Ivory didn’t care when Templeton went missing, what makes you think he’ll care about the other two?”
“He and Johansson are close,” Love rumbled. “And he brought Hassan in for a reason…”
“Well, you’ll just have to do a better job of getting back in his good graces,” I told him.
“I’d say for starters, stop bringing psycho boyfriend into the fucking mansion whenever it tickles your fancy.” Velle pursed his lips.
Rook and I were smirking.
Dr. Love gave him a curious look that was obviously fake. “I have no idea what you mean…”
Velle laughed. “You have to be the least doctorly doctor I’ve ever encountered.” He shook his head, pursing down the smirk. “I like it.” Lem’s lips twitched. “I just can’t believe I’ve been sleeping under the same roof as The Carver for fucking weeks.”
“I find it soothing.” I shrugged.
“You would.” Velle showed me one of his devilish grins, winking at me when I forced a scowl.
I just love him, man. That’s it.
With them by my side, nothing could ever be bad.
“Mayday, mayday! All hands on deck!” Linetti’s voice came barking over our walkies, interrupting my swooning.
“What the hell…” Velle muttered, pulling his.
“We’ve got a problem…” Peters shouted through. “Velle??”
“There’s a fly in the ointment. I repeat, a fox is in the henhouse!” Linetti babbled more frantic nonsense.
“God, shut up,” Velle growled.
“Is the plane going down??” I snapped. “What’s the damn issue right now?”
We could barely hear what they were saying. Too many voices coming through at once, all jumbled, hectic, and echoing an apparent impending disaster.
“Keep the goddamn lines clear!” Velle roared at them, immediately rushing toward the doors.
We all followed, gaping at one another, helpless, as they finally composed themselves enough to articulate what was happening.
Still, I didn’t believe it until we got back up to Gen-pop, and saw it with our own eyes.
Strangers. Inourterritory.
Guys we’d never seen before, in uniform—like ours, but with a few minor differences. Like the Spanish writing and distinct crest on their insignia.
These men were new here. But they sure as hell weren’t acting like it.
They weren’t guests of The Ivory, or visitors here for a specific, temporary purpose. They were storming the castle, on order from the king himself.
