"That's not saying much. Everyone in this room is terrifying. Except for Jonah."
"Good point. Jonah you want to help him calm the assets? Jinx will stay with you in case they try anything."
Jonah nods.
Elliot sighs, but he doesn't argue. "Fine. I'll be the children whisperer. But Jinx better handle the violence."
"You never have to be equipped for that," Jace says quietly.
Something passes between them. Private and intimate. I look away, and find Jonah watching me with a small smile.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing. Just thinking about how different you are with them. With your brothers." He stands, stretches. "You're almost human."
"Almost?"
"Getting there." He crosses to me, wraps his arms around my waist from behind. "Slowly but surely."
Jinx makes a gagging sound. "This is disgusting. Are you two always like this?"
"Like what?"
"Affectionate. Touching. Making heart eyes at each other." He shudders dramatically. "It's unnatural."
"Says the man who once made out with a mark for forty-five minutes to avoid detection," Jace says dryly.
"That was operational. This is feelings. Completely different."
"You'll understand someday," Jonah tells him. "When you find someone who puts up with your particular brand of insanity."
"Bold of you to assume anyone could."
"Give it time."
Jace clears his throat. “Anyone thinking about what the hell we are going to do about transporting that many kids? Where are we going to hide them?”
I pause. “A school bus to the nearest fire department should work. They take strays right?”
“The fuck, Jagger! You think a fire department can handle fifty kids?!”
“It’s the best I can offer unless we leave them there.” I shrug at my brother.
“It’s a terrible plan, but it’s the only one that works. The Swiss people have great healthcare and failsafe’s for youth. They’ll be fine.” Elliot says with a nod.
We break for dinner. Elliot made pasta this time, something with tomatoes and garlic that fills the cabin with warmth. We eat around the small table, shoulders bumping, conversations overlapping. Jace talks about the Alps, about the hiking trails he's discovered, about the way Elliot is trying to teach him to cook. Jinx tells stories about Ministry politics, about the chaos between the Ministries, about the whispers circulating through the Foundry about assets going missing.
"They know something's happening," he says. "They just don't know what. Yet."
"How long do we have?" I ask.
"Before they figure out where you are? Days, maybe. A week if we're lucky." He pushes pasta around his plate. "The Ministry's in chaos since Edmund Holloway disappeared. His brother's been tearing apart the organization looking for answers."
"He won't find them."
"No. But he's making a lot of noise in the process. Drawing attention. Some of it's useful for us. Some of it's making things harder."
I file that away. Another variable to account for. Another complication in an already complicated situation.
