Page 12 of Knot Playing Fair 2

“Go to bed, Mia,” I said wearily. “None of us are thinking straight tonight.”

Unable to face any more human interaction without the possibility of losing my shit completely, I turned to follow Zalen upstairs. I stood in the entrance to my nest for long moments,until the soft sound of footsteps heading for the guest bedroom on the first floor terminated with the closing of a door.

Safe inside my private space, I flopped down on a beanbag chair and stared at the darkened ceiling. Minutes ticked by, time dragging like slow taffy. My mind refused to quiet enough to do more than doze restlessly, jerking awake at every creak of the house.

An hour passed that way... and part of another one.

The repeating refrain ofwrong, wrong, wrong, this is all wrongbuzzed through my veins and arteries like scurrying insects. I thought if I had to sit with the feeling for one more minute, I’d go mad.

Well...madder, anyway.

“Stubborn fucker,” I muttered through gritted teeth, and shoved my body clumsily off the beanbag with a flash of sudden anger. Flicking on a light, I headed for the dresser and pulled out a drawer almost violently, digging around until I found the familiar, worn leather kit.

Knowing how stupid this entire idea was, I crept out of my room and down the stairs, tiptoeing across the landing to the locked basement door. Working by touch, I unrolled my lock picks and pulled out a tensioner, followed by a snake rake.

I’d barely managed to insert them when the shuffle of quiet footsteps had me spinning around, nearly dropping my tools in my haste. The overhead light clicked on, revealing Mia standing there. She looked about like I felt, with gray-tinged skin and bags under her eyes.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a bare whisper.

I took a slow breath and let it out, steadying my nerves. “Picking the lock,” I said, in the same barely audible volume. “This has gone on long enough, don’t you think?”

She squared her shoulders. “Yeah. Damn right it has. Well... go on, then. I’m coming with you.”

Steeling myself, I nodded and turned back to the job. I wasn’t an expert by any means, but I’d picked my share of locks in the bad old days. The low-security internal door’s tumblers gave way to the rake pick in less than thirty seconds, and the lock clicked. I exchanged a glance with my partner in crime, trying to draw strength from her determination.

The doorknob turned under my touch, the hinges creaking as the door swung open. A wedge of light from the hallway illuminated the steep stairs disappearing into darkness.

“Emiel?” I called softly, not sure if he’d be asleep, or brooding, or what. “It’s Luca and Mia. We need to talk to you. We’re coming down.”

SIX

Mia

I WASN’T SURE WHATto expect as we moved carefully into the stairwell... only that it wasn’t going to be good. Luca flipped on the overhead bulb so we wouldn’t be stumbling around completely in the dark, but it did little to chase away the shadows deeper in the basement.

The fact that Luca was apparently a skilled lock picker was an interesting twist, and it reminded me sharply that he hadn’t always been a style-conscious, twenty-something professional grant writer. The world of seedy gangs and criminality hovered around this pack like threatening storm clouds. It had touched all of them, except maybe for Zalen—and even he hovered on the edges, trying to drag teenagers to safety before they succumbed to the undertow.

A plaintive meow came from somewhere ahead of us.

“Emiel?” I asked hesitantly, needing some kind of sign that he was at least awake and aware of our presence.

“Stay the hell away from me.” A growl underpinned the words.

That angry tone sent a shiver through me. Ahead of me, Luca’s scent soured with disquiet. Neither of us were about to let this go, however.

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