Page 76 of Pulling Strings

Regaining my footing, I tugged on my jacket lapels and struck a preening pose. “Best part of my defense was being too damn good looking to die.”

Nash nodded solemnly. “It is your burden to bear. That and having to carry around your enormous ego.”

I snorted, leaning to see past him into the bar area. “Is Grimm here?” I asked.

“He’s inside.” Nash jerked a thumb in the direction I searched. “They all are. Waiting for you. But I wanted to get a word in before the night kicks off.”

Crossing my arms, I fixed him with an ornery grin. “And what’s that?”

“I’m glad you’re back.”

The sincerity in his soft, brown eyes warmed my insides, and I bit my lip.

“Did you miss me that bad?” I teased. “It’s only been ten days.”

Nash raised his hands. “What can I say? You’re my best customer.”

Chuckling, I started past him. But his fingers brushing against mine stopped me in place.

“Find me later,” he whispered near my ear. “If you want.”

I wouldn’t have to look hard. With this many customers, Nash would be behind the counter all nightand up to his elbows in drink orders. And poor Pippa would be drowning in them if her brother bailed on his job to fool around with me.

“In the middle of your shift?” I asked.

“I can step out.” He winked. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

We broke apart and single-file squeezed through a gap in the crowd and into the bar area. As I crossed the threshold, new sounds assaulted me. Music blared and voices rose above it. Mostly jovial, but not entirely. The crowd outside had been mild compared to this rowdy bunch. They gathered around and on top of tables, spilling drinks in spontaneous toasts and barking orders at Pippa as she darted about.

At first, I saw no one familiar, but closer inspection found several members of the group wearing the same color—make that the same outfit: khaki coveralls with inmate ID numbers stitched on the fronts. The escaped prisoners had not been invited for my sake, I hoped, because I was eager to put as much distance as possible between myself and all thoughts of Thorngate Correctional Institute.

I moved along the perimeter of the room, spotting someone I was searching for at last. Avery perched on another man’s shoulders, squared off with a second stacked duo in an out-of-water chicken fight. The spectacle took up a whole corner of the room. Onlookers cheered while Avery grappled with his opponent.

Behind them, a table had been sequestered and was occupied by the people I’d come to see. Grimm sat in the middle, facing out into the room with Vinton on his right side and Donovan on his left. In the seat beside Donovan, Ripley Vaughn reposed with a pink-haired Goth girl in his lap. She didn’t look like a zombie.Certainly not the half-rotted Hollywood version covered in grave dirt. Must have been the right girl, though, because the cameo necklace hung around her neck.

Donovan spotted me and leaped up, rounding the table to give me a hug. “You made it!” he exclaimed. “I don’t believe it.”

Made it to this party, out of jail, and away from the Capitol’s murderous intentions. I didn’t believe it, either.

Grimm waved us closer. “Boys! Have a seat. We’re about to get started.”

Donovan returned to his chair and left me standing. I wasn’t eager to cozy up to Vinton or rub shoulders with the punk prom king and queen. But the room was too full for me to leave much space and hear anything Grimm had to say, which was a fair amount judging by his rush to get started.

“Welcome home, son.” He smiled. “Glad to have you with us for this momentous occasion.”

Behind me, Avery and his partner toppled over, landing on a neighboring table with a crash and clatter. Uproarious laughter ensued as the two men clambered out of the broken glass and shards of wood from the table. Avery scrambled to standing, then spun and grabbed the other man and went in for a kiss, tongue deep.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to Grimm.

He swept a hand in reference to the room. “Lest you wondered why we liberated all these ne’er do wells from Thorngate’s depths, allow me to explain. We’re recruiting!” he crowed. “First time in a century.”

Of all the questions that sprung to my mind, I voiced only one. “Why?”

“Safety in numbers, of course,” Grimm replied. “And, since you and I will be busy with Capitol matters,we need more soldiers in the field.”

I wondered about Donovan’s place in all of this. Since his initiation had been put on the back burner, I’d rested a bit easier. But if Grimm wanted to grow the Bloody Hex, there was little reason to continue to delay.

“You keep talking about battle and now soldiers,” I told Grimm. “But for what? I don’t get it.”

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