Page 137

The nightmares at my feet rose. A crack split through the concrete beneath my boot and the ground beneath us trembled.

Vale noticed. “Easy.”

“No.”

“Lux . . .”

“Who was in it?” I demanded.

“We’re working on that.” He made an exceptional effort to sound calm and sure.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the answer I have.”

The air around us cooled. A mortal crossing the sidewalk glanced our way, saw the black curling up the brick behind me, and crossed the street instead.

Vale lowered his voice. “This is why I wanted you back to the tower before I briefed you.”

“You were going to brief me eventually?”

“Yes.”

I smiled without humor. “Then talk. Now.”

He exhaled once. “We’ve been monitoring the Internet for keywords—dark web too. There have been inquiries.”

My body went very still.

Vale continued. “Nothing direct enough to point to her yet but enough to make us pay attention. Someone requested employee rosters for New Abaddon City Coffee through an old staffing contact. Harlow Street had two unfamiliar cars pass twice in the last forty-eight hours. I already have tech scrubbing her information from the Internet and rerouting your schedule to account for the proximity.”

My hands curled.

“Find out who’s asking questions they shouldn’t be.”

“We’re tracing them now.”

“Faster.”

“I’m trying to keep this quiet,” he grit out, voice low, rough, and on the verge of frustration. He worked his jaw and turned back to me. “I am trying to keep this quiet while you collapse on sidewalks, buy cafés, move employees, abduct baristas’ coworkers, and show up in public bleeding because your mate had a bad morning.”

I looked at him. He stared back. It was a good thing I liked him and loathed paperwork.

“You told me to say something when you started treating her like an asset instead of a person,” he said. “This is me saying something. You are building a fortress around her, but every brick you move makes noise. Noise attracts attention.”

I loathed him for being right, but I probably needed to hear that.

“She doesn’t know yet,” I said.

“I know.”

“She doesn’t know my name. My face. The bond. The tower. The fact that every old house, cult, and idiot with a grudge would carve her open if they understood what she is to me. She deserves to choose before she becomes a target.”

“She already knows enough to be a target, Lux.”

“No. She deserves—”

“You may not have that kind of time.”