Page 41 of Princess of Thieves

I don’t say that, though. I just stare at the computer, at the glowing lines of my new inbox.

“I’m just saying,” Tuck says. “If you did want to figure it out, I’m sure we could help. Might be a good reason to stay around here a bit—do some research, try some experiments. We really could help.”

His voice is forced cheerful, laced with hope, and it breaks my heart to look at him gazing so eagerly into my face. It really does.

Because I do want to know. I want to know more about myself and more about each of them. I want everything to be almost exactly the same as it is right now except for one, huge, impossible detail.

And that just can’t be undone.

“Thanks for the email.” I give him a polite smile. “I promise I won’t need to be here much—”

The door to the office bangs open. It’s LJ, alarm in his eyes.

“Maren,” he says. “You have to hide.Now.”

Chapter Eleven

“What?” I shake my head, confused and slow to process, like I’ve misheard him.

“You have to hide,” LJ grinds out again. “They’re at the door.”

“Who are—”

But LJ doesn’t let me finish. He grabs my upper arm, gently but forcefully, and lifts me toward him. Behind me, Tuck gets to his feet, alarm etched over his features.

“What’s goin—”

“Sheriff,” LJ says. He pulls me to the door, glancing around in a wide arc. “Where’s Will?”

“Here.” Will strides in as if on cue.

“I’m taking her up,” LJ says. “Command center. Don’t breathe a fucking word.”

Behind all of us, distant but distinct, the front door raps with a knock I didn’t hear before. All three of their heads snap toward it.

“Nose goes,” Tuck says, and holds a finger to his face. “I’m not good with cops.”

“Oh, like any of us are?” Will rolls his eyes. He glances around, as if waiting for someone else to appear...

...but he doesn’t, of course.

“Fine,” Will grinds out. “Get her out of here.”

“Trying to.” LJ gives me another firm tug, and we’re off, slipping through the front hall and up the stairs.

“What the hell,” I pant, struggling to keep up with him as we hit the landing, “is going on? Where are we going?’

“Command center,” LJ says, the sarcasm dripping from his words. “Will’s security HQ. Stupid, but it’s the most secure place in the whole damn house.”

I swivel my head to both sides, trying to orient myself. The bedroom doors are here, just like they always were: Will’s, mine—or the room that was mine, and the other two that I know are Tuck’s and Rob’s. Unless there’s some kind of trap door or something—

LJ stops in front of a mirror—full length, gold frame, one I’d passed dozens of times before—and lets go of me. He presses his palm to the surface, at just about hip height, and from somewhere inside the glass, a green light blinks off and on. A little mechanical chirp and the mirror swings open; it’s a door.

“Whoa,” I say out loud. LJ flashes me the barest smirk.

“Impressed?”

“Well, yeah, actually,” I say, a bit defensively.

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