Page 18 of Death Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Faith glanced at her. “You sure?”

Nishi’s eyes narrowed. “My teams are deployed. They can handle initial lockdown. I can do more by moving. We need answers fast.”

I nodded, grateful. “Lucinda can send you the address for Andel’s place. We will meet there.”

Nishi’s gaze flicked to me, then to Lucinda, then back. “Send it now.”

I almost smiled, then remembered the undead were chewing through town and my sense of humor did not actually count as a weapon.

Lucinda gestured toward the portal. “Go. Carnell, take them through your home portal. I want them off the roads.”

Carnell’s smile was taunting. “With pleasure.”

Faith muttered, “Of course, with pleasure.”

We moved as a unit toward the shimmering archway.

Portals always felt like stepping into a decision you couldn’t undo. The air in front of them was wrong in a way my skin noticed first. Like a thin layer of reality had been peeled back, revealing something slick underneath.

Carnell went first, because he always went first, because he was the kind of person who treated danger like a flirtation. Faith followed, because she trusted Carnell in the way people trusted the most reckless family member. Not because they were safe, but because they were predictable.

Eve stepped in next, shoulders squared. I followed her.

The world folded.

It was not pain. It was pressure, like my ribs were being squeezed by invisible hands. My stomach rolled, and my breath caught for half a second as the chambers vanished.

Then we were somewhere else.

Carnell’s suite.

Calling it a suite was like calling the council chambers a meeting room. It was technically accurate and wildly misleading.

The air smelled like cedar and expensive cologne. The lighting was low, warm. The carpet under my boots was thick enough to swallow sound. Somewhere nearby, music pulsed softly, something slow and lazy, as if Carnell believed even his emergency exits should have mood lighting.

I took in one glance of the living space and immediately regretted having eyes.

Leopard print. Faux fur. A marble-topped minibar that looked like it was ready to serve drinks to a room full of royalty. Art on the walls that could politely be described as sensual and more accurately be described as porn with a frame.

Faith’s gaze swept the room, stopping on a new, massive nude portrait of Carnell. “You have no shame.”

Carnell smiled. “I have plenty of shame. I just don’t display it.”

Eve’s mouth twitched, and she looked away quickly like she refused to enjoy his nonsense.

I cleared my throat. “We’re here for cars, right. Not… whatever this is.”

Carnell spread his arms. “This is taste.”

Faith snorted. “This is a cry for help.”

Carnell placed a hand on his chest. “Granddaughter. You wound me.”

Faith didn’t respond, but the corner of her mouth lifted for half a second. It was so fast it could have been imagined.

Carnell moved with purpose now, crossing the room to a side table where his phone sat. He tapped the screen and lifted it to his ear.

“Drin,” he said, voice smooth. “I need two vehicles in the back alley. Now. Clean, unmarked. Make them blend.”