Glaring at the system as if Pike could see him, Owen had no idea how the chief already heard. “Knew you were well connected, but I didn’t realize you were hardwired into the security cameras.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Or what I’m offering.”
Walked right into that one. “Look, I appreciate it?—”
“Do you?”
“—but I don’t think this is my jam.” Couldn’t stand the thought of signing on only to find out he couldn’t cut it there either. Dad knew these guys. Didn’t need more humiliation—or to malign the Metcalfe name or Dad again.
“Don’t make a mistake, Apollo.”
Dude knew everything, even his Scion callsign. That wasn’t cool—it was straight outta Creep City.
“Haven’t you heard? That’s all I’m good at.” Owen ended the call and slumped back in the seat as he hit the toll road.
There’d been a sour taste in the mouths of the Scions about Omen because Uncle Max had been killed working OTG. Besides, Owen wasn’t interested in discovering he wasn’t cut out for ops, though that had been the career he’d wanted since he was a kid. But missing out on Rangers tempered his risk-o-meter.
Despite the hour-long trip back home, Owen knew he didn’t want to face Mom or Dad, get drilled with questions. So, he detoured off the toll road and hit a burger joint. He planted his backside at a booth farthest from the door and sat, staring at the menu.
What was he supposed to do with his life? What good was he to anyone? He’d graduated a year early, went into the Army with his entire career path plotted out. Despite Dad’s connections, he’d ended up…exactly nowhere. Unlike pretty much every forebear he had. It was a long line of patriots, military heroes: Dad, General Lambert who was his grandfather, all his Scion uncles.
And I’m what?
Out after serving five years.
“You okay, hon?”
Owen blinked and looked up. “Sorry, what?”
The waitress wore black jeans and shirt. Easily as old as Mom but stick-thin. Curly hair framing her small face. “You’ve been here an hour, staring at that menu.”
“Oh.” He eyed the plastic sleeve in his hand, seeing the words for the first time. “I…uh, a burger. Bacon and cheese. Mayo and tomato.”
“Fries?”
“That stuff will kill you.” His words from earlier rang in his head. “Absolutely.”
She winked at him. “You look like you got some things to work through, so I’ll bring you double.”
He tried to smile, but his lips just refused to take the curve. No idea how long he sat there, but at some point the food had showed up and he’d chewed his way through it and the hollowing emptiness called his life.
God, just show me… Show me what do. He’d never felt so lost in his life. So…directionless. Adrift. But he knew God was a master planner—he’d redeem this. Just…no idea how. God had his work cut out for him with Owen’s life.
After finishing the food, he paid for the meal and got back in his Raptor. Only as he cranked the engine did he realize darkness had fallen over Northern Virginia. Was it really that late?
Pulling into the long drive fifteen minutes later, he eyed the clock on the dash. After nine. House should be pretty quiet. Mom was probably watching her favorite historical drama. A luxury import was parked in the drive, and he pulled alongside the sleek sedan. Who was here this late?
Owen climbed out and made his way up the sidewalk, concerned. His parents weren’t night owls. And that car did not belong to any Nightshade team member as far as he knew. Though, it had been a while since he’d been home. Maybe?—
A noise filtered from around the side of the house and slowed him. He frowned, craning his neck in that direction. Heard voices… Dad… Who was he talking to?
Diverting toward them, Owen followed the path around to the back, to the North Forty. When he spotted two men sitting by the firepit about twenty feet from the back deck, some heightened instinct told him to wait. Not sure if he was intruding—why would they be outside, talking in the dark?—he strained to listen.
Why were his nerves on end?
“She and Yasmina were shopping when she was taken,” a man said in a thick accent, his words grave, heavy. “Broad daylight, with hundreds in the center. She went to try on clothes and never came back.”
“And you think it’s the royals.”
