4
“We were here for coffee,” I start, perching on the edge of a table. I eye the cell phone on the ground, half covered with broken glass. I need it so I can delete the footage. “And that thing came in.” Shit. No. I close my eyes in a long blink and run my hand over my forehead. EMTs are here, attending to the guy on the floor.
And Officer Beasley is asking me questions. So far, it feels veryoff the record, but still…none of this is going to make sense. I’m either going to make myself seem incredibly dumb or incapable. Both, most likely.
“It took me off guard.”
“Yeah, it’d take me off guard too,” Nick agrees.
“And I didn’t have my gun on me.”
“Right. It’s the last thing you expected, being on vacation and all.”
“Exactly.” I blink, swallowing my pounding heart. I need to keep my calm but not appear too collected. I’m shaken, after all, from seeing what I did. “I thought it was a prank at first, to be honest.” I make sure my body language matches what I’m trying to portray. “Then some guys came running in from the street telling everyone to clear out.”
Nick chuckles. “And you didn’t listen.”
“Of course not.” I let out a breath and rub my forehead. I’m bruised and a little bloody but don’t feel all that bad. But I’m thinking I’m going to have to play up my injuries to get out of here.
“So what was it?” Nick asks, looking around the cafe. “Someone in an Ironman suit?”
“Something like that.” I shake my head. “I was able to get one mask off.” I motion to the broken clay on the ground. “But I didn’t get a clear look at the guy under it. He hurt my friend and then ran out the back.”
“This is a shit storm.”
“You’re telling me,” I agree, and playfully nudge Nick in the arm. “I’ve never been gladder to be on vacation before.”
“Don’t be surprised if you get a call,” he only half jokes. “Weird stuff is right up your alley.”
I grimace. “What’s the death count? Do we know yet?”
“Three so far.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. As if mass shootings aren’t enough to worry about.”
I close my eyes and bring my hand to my head, making sure to play up the pain and anguish. Nick buys it and suggests I see the EMTs. Aware I’m not acting like my normal, stubborn self, I agree and let them check me out.
On my way, I scoop up the cell phone and slip it into my pocket. The screen is cracked, but it’s still recording.
Thank fucking God.
That ups my odds that I can get in without worrying about cracking a passcode. Jacques, who’s wearing Hasan’s jacket to cover up the rips on his shirt, torn from when he ripped off the charm and revealed his wings, is standing in the back, taking everything in.
Hasan declines medical attention again, and I think we can try to slip out of here. I have to find Tom and Gil still, and then figure out what the fuck is actually going on.
Because there’s no denying it now.
That golem was sent for me.
* * *
“Way to fucking call me,”Gemma says dryly when we walk into the house. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are wide.
“Sorry,” I say, and take off my jacket.
“I thought you were dead.”
