Page 59 of Heir of Ashes

“The place is huge. It’s too secure, and you’re personally involved. You’re not being objective, and that is risky enough, and I’m not counting all the variables.”

“I’m not leaving him there. I’m going in. I already have a rough picture of the place if you can’t hack in.”

There was a snort—Rafael’s—and he said, “Doug showed me. It’s nothing more than chicken scratches; neither of us could make sense of it.”

I stiffened at his description of my sketches.

“She’s coming with us. She knows the place; it’ll come in handy.”

“That’s a huge mistake. The Society is hell bent on getting her back.” There was a brief silence before Rafael tried again, “Taking her is like gift-wrapping her for them. I’m telling you, man, this is a big mistake. The whole thing is.”

“She’s coming.”

“Archer won’t like it. Hell, the Council will lose their collective minds if they realize you’re taking Fosch’s daughter—”

“The Council can crash and burn in Hell,” Logan interrupted. “And I’ll deal with Archer when the time comes.”

“What about Roland? Can’t you tell him to take her somewhere safe until Vincent is back?”

Logan’s voice was grim when he announced, “He was the one who told me where to find her in the alley.”

I knew it! I clenched my fists to keep from opening the door and demanding he tell me everything he knew. I wondered now if Logan had used my fake name to introduce us to keep Rafael from saying something he didn’t want me to know. It was obvious from their words that Rafael also knew who my father was.

“We can take her to Doug’s.”

“No.”

A heavy pause. “You’re too involved. This is personal, and that’s dangerous. You need a clear mind to pull this off.”

“Damn right,” Logan growled.

The pause that followed was so heavy with tension, I could sense it through the closed door. “I just don’t want you torepeat your mistakes twice,” Rafael finally said, and I could hear an edge in his voice. Concern? Warning?

“Can you get in or not?” Logan snapped. I could practically see the muscle twitch in his jaw and the tension in his clenched fists.

“They have fail-safes. If I press the wrong key—and believe me, they’ve almost tricked me twice now—the whole program will shut down and delete itself. Want my opinion?”

“Hmmm.”

“If you’re dead-set on taking her, then don’t try to hack in. If they catch wind of a breach attempt, it’ll only alert them and make them tighten security.”

“I need in,” Logan said.

“I’ll try, but if I hit another wall, I’m done.”

Silence fell after that, broken only by the rapid clacking of keys. Committing all the names to memory, I shut off the water and began to dress slowly, hoping they would resume their conversation. I put on my black slacks and a green button-down shirt, then dried my hair, brushed my teeth, and checked myself in the mirror. The scrapes on my right cheek from my fall during the bus attack had faded. Aside from that, nothing marred my skin, and even the stitches had fallen out. I tied my hair back in a tight, high ponytail and found nothing else to do, so I opened the door and left the bathroom.

The rich aroma of coffee filled the room, and I zeroed in on the tray with the pot and finger sandwiches on the table by the sofa. My stomach rumbled in response.

First things first. I picked up a pair of socks and walked to the bed, my boots still where I’d left them by the foot. I sat on the edge of the still unmade bed, put on the socks, then slipped my feet into the boots. When I straightened, I noticed the black coat lying beside me on a dry-cleaner’s plastic hanger.

I eyed it with suspicion, my nose wrinkling in tortured remembrance. I didn’t think the smell would ever come off. I pinched the sleeve of the coat with my thumb and forefinger, and bent to sniff it, braced for the worst. It smelled wonderfully clean, surprising me. When I looked up, Logan was watching me with a gleam of amusement. I smiled.

God, wasn’t he handsome? And thoughtful?

The smile that tugged at my lips faded as I studied his face, wanting to commit every detail to memory. Even with the secrecy, mistrust, and violence that shadowed our brief acquaintance, I wanted to hold on to the good. The reminder that, for a brief time, I had been accepted and desired.

Small comforts, but they mattered. Things to help me when the darkness closed in and dragged me under.

---