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“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Lucan looks uneasy for the first time all day. “Exactly what it sounds like.” He catches me staring at him before dragging a hand through his hair. “Either somebody buried the information deep, or she stopped existing a long time ago. You sure Rowan didn’t give you anything else? Photos? Locations? Anything?”
“Nope.”
“That’s weird, though.” He folds his arms. “If he’s been looking for her this long, you’d think he’d have more.”
I think about Rowan standing beside the railing during our ride, shoulders tight while he tried to tell me the truth without actually telling me anything.
“Something’s wrong,” I mutter.
“Yeah. No shit.”
Lucan studies me. “You know what I don’t get?”
“What?”
“Your dad told you to keep an eye on Rowan weeks ago.” He folds his arms tighter. “So how the hell did you go from watching him to acting like this?”
I lean back against the desk. “Acting like what?”
“Seriously?”
“He got under my skin. Happy now?”
“No shit.” Lucan drags a hand through his hair. “You were supposed to figure out whether something strange was going on around him, not start sleeping with the guy.”
“He’s not dangerous.”
“That’s not the point.” Lucan looks at me hard. “You stopped being objective a long time ago.”
“Look at him,” I say before I can think better of it. “You really think Rowan’s dangerous?”
Lucan’s expression shifts. “Dangerous?” he repeats. “Nah. But that doesn’t mean he’s safe either.”
Oh, I know all about that.
What’s also not safe is me promising Dad that Rowan has nothing to do with whatever the hell they’ve been chasing all this time. That was weeks ago, before the Legacy Gala and before everybody started acting strange afterward.
The streets have felt restless ever since, and Dad’s been on my ass constantly, disappearing into meetings and asking questions he normally wouldn’t care enough to ask.
What pisses me off most is that Mom and Dad clearly know more than they’re telling us. I can feel it every time they dodge questions or change the subject the second I walk into a room.
And honestly? If they refuse to tell me what the hell is going on, they can’t blame me for getting distracted by Rowan instead.
“For fuck’s sake.” Lucan squints at me. “You’re not even listening anymore, are you?”
“I am, fucker, you’re just not that interesting.”
“No, you’re absolutely not.” He points at me. “Get that stupid grin off your face. You look ugly.”
I snort. “Funny coming from the guy who practically follows Damaris around the kitchen like a lost husband.”
“Watch your fucking mouth.”
“Or what?” Lucan straightens, ready, one brow lifting in a challenge.
“Boys,” Rafe groans from the couch. “Fucking hell. Can we not do this before dinner?”
