And he didn’t want to.
Grayson’s enemies weren’t going to give up just because he didn’t show tonight. They’d be going after Grayson, and he’d be in terrible danger—unless Reece took care of it.
Well. NotjustReece.
“So the Empath Initiative sent Evan a second location,” he said out loud, as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. “I don’t think this meeting is going to go quite like they planned.”
Aisha had managed to give Liam coordinates to Grayson’s safe house on Salt Spring Island, and then she and Diesel had fallen almost instantly asleep on the tiny backseat of the floatplane.
Outside the plane was the blackness of night, only the occasional light on the islands or water below. Jamey looked over her shoulder, where Aisha had listed heavily into Diesel while he slept against the window. “They’re out.”
“We’ll get them to the safe house,” Liam promised. “They can sleep it off. Diesel is probably going to have a lot of questions.”
“I have a lot of questions for Evan,” Jamey said, but she wasn’t angry. Grayson was an enigma who couldn’t be trusted, but he hadn’t killed his brother. And yeah, they were in a terrible mess now, but her last doubts about what kind of man Grayson was had disappeared.
And speaking of, she needed to call the instant the plane’s antenna picked up Wi-Fi again. She held her phone, watching the signal. They were heading south, toward Vancouver and the city sprawl; she’d be able to call soon.
Despite the snow, the wind wasn’t high, and the water wasn’t nearly as choppy as it could have been. Grayson set a speed of thirty knots and started heading south, toward Vancouver and the location Vivian Marist had sent him.
He pulled out his phone.
Except—
Except it was a little too light in his hand. Slightly too small against his palm. He lit up the phone and found himself looking at a lock screen. The numbers one through nine stared mockingly up at him, because he’d made Reece set a passcode but hadn’t asked what it was.
Don’t forget your phone, Reece had said in the truck.
He’d given Grayson the wrong phone. On purpose?Why?Grayson patted himself down but it just confirmed what he’d already guessed: that he had Reece’s phone and Reece, presumably, had his.
And now Grayson couldn’t unlock it.
He sat down in the seat behind the wheel, a little harder than necessary.
“Reece,” he said into the wind. “What’s going on?”
CHAPTER THIRTY
I’ve thought about your proposal. I have some conditions but yes, I accept. I can’t let what happened to Alex happen to other empaths.
Call me the Dead Man if you want. Obviously I don’t have feelings about it either way.
—NOTE FROM EVAN GRAYSON TO HOLT TRAYNOR
The Empath Initiativehad sent Grayson the address of a warehouse on the water, just north of Horseshoe Bay. Reece took his time getting there. After all, he wanted everyone else to have plenty of time to arrive.
He brought the truck down the hill and into the parking lot, then drove to the middle of the lot and cut the engine.
He rested his fingers on the steering wheel and closed his eyes.
If Cora had done it, maybe he could too.
Sure enough, a moment later, he was picking them up: emotions around him. Fear, anger—oh, that was excitement and anticipation, and in more than one person. There were a few twisted fucks in this crowd who enjoyed the thought of throwing down with an enhanced superhuman like Grayson. They would have been briefed on Grayson and be ready to fight him.
Unfortunately for them, tonight that was going to be like bringing the proverbial knives to a gunfight.
The driver’s door was yanked open.
“Don’t move, Agent Gray—Reece Davies?”
