“Trust me, I would love to date you without the threat of assassination hanging over your head, so yes. Yes, I would love to.”
“Wow,” Ivy teases to cover her sweet embarrassment. “You were such a dick when we first met and now look at you. You don’t even have to drug me this time.”
“Hey!” Reaching across, I jab her lightly in the ribs. “That was necessary.”
“Sure,” she groans, laughing. “Sure it was.”
Ten minutes later, we pull up outside the cafe Ivy entered into the GPS and we climb out together. Leaving Ivy alone in her friend’s home is fine, but not in a public place. As I lock the car, Ivy hurries toward the cafe as Moira steps out through the door with a watery smile on her face.
“Ivy!”
I follow Ivy at a slightly slower pace as my phone rings. As I press it to the ear, I catch my reflection in the glass of the cafe window.
It’s empty.
There isn’t even anyone behind the counter.
“Hello?”
“Ruslan, we’ve got a situation,” comes Cassian’s strained voice in my ear.
“Tell me.”
“It’s Alexei. Kraven was trying to get him here, but then the bastard warned him that the Suit were looking for him. I tried to stop them but I don’t think I cut the call in time. Raven was tracking Alexei via the call, but he tossed his phone maybe twenty minutes ago, and it’s gone cold.”
“Shit.”
“Kraven said his son comes first and he’s sorry.”
“I’m going to kill him,” I growl. “Ivy!”
In the midst of hugging Moira, she glances at me over her shoulder.
“We have to go!”
Just as the words leave my lips, a screech of tires rips through the air of the quiet street and several cars spill around the corner at top speed.
“Ivy! Now!”
As she tries to run back to me, Moira suddenly grabs her arm and hangs onto her, trying to drag her back into the cafe.
“Moira? What are you doing?” Ivy yells as I sprint toward her.
“I’m sorry,” Moira sobs. “I’m so sorry! They said they’d kill me if I didn’t. I had no choice!”
32
IVY
“Moira!” Her fingers curl around my forearm like claws and she uses all of her weight to pull me back toward the cafe. Ruslan’s voice rises up behind me, deep and demanding, while I stare into the eyes of my best friend. “What have you done?”
Tears pour down her cheeks, dragging streaks of her mascara with them, and her lower lip trembles violently. “They made me!”
“Who made you? I don’t understand!”
“After the cafe when he—when he grabbed you and you both left. They c-came and they told me they would kill me if I didn’t!”
“Moira—”
