Page 93 of The Devil's Waltz

TWENTY-SEVENXANDER

Camille returned to Seattle yesterday for her friends’ memorial service. Despite the insistent part of me that wanted to go, to be there for her, I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. It wasn’t as if I could attend the service with her. Or that she’d even want me there, considering her friends would still be alive if I hadn’t come into her life.

Blake and I are going home tomorrow, but before we leave New York, we’re meeting with a few more potential allies.

After a much-needed run in the hotel gym, I shower and get dressed in another annoyingly formal outfit.

“Dress for the job you want,” Blake had said with a wolfish grin when he pulled it out of the Saks bag earlier. “At least, the one you want people tothinkyou want,” he’d added with a wink that made me roll my eyes, because what job would that even be? It’s not as if I’m running an election campaign to take my mother’s place on the throne.

That said, and as annoying as having Blake dress me was, I couldn’t be genuinely mad at him if I tried. He was doing it—all of this—for me. Without Blake, I can honestly say I’m not sure how I’d figure everything out.

I walk into the main space of our hotel suite and find Blake unpacking a brown bag that smells like Thai food. He gives me a once-over, nodding in approval before dropping into one of the dining chairs.

“Let’s eat, then we need to head out.”

I join him at the round table in front of the floor-to-ceiling window and reach for one of the to-go containers. “Thank you for doing all of this, Blake.”

He pauses, glancing over at me. Recognition flashes in his eyes as he grasps the full weight of my words, then nods. “Of course. You know I’ve got you, mate. Which is why you’re not going to bitch at me when I tellyou we’re going hunting after this. Your strength needs to be at its highest when we return to Seattle.”

The argument dies on the tip of my tongue. He’s right.

We eat in silence for a few minutes before I say, “Steven made a good point asking about the plan if things go sideways. I think we should figure out a backup—and a backup to our backup.”

Blake groans around a mouthful of noodles. “One impossible plan was hard enough to craft.Nowyou want to come up with contingencies?”

“I want the people we care about to make it out of this alive.”

“Well, fuck, when you put it like that,” he grumbles, though I’m fully aware the number of people Blake gives a damn about is far smaller than mine. He’ll have my back, regardless.

“If Lucia discovers our plan to double cross her and lock her up in hell before we can pull it off, none of us will be safe.” I lean back in my chair, folding my arms over my chest, as if that’ll stop Blake from being able to hear how quickly my heart is beating.

He nods in agreement. “She’ll immediately start slaughtering everyone she suspects is involved.”

“I know. It’ll start a war we’re not prepared to fight. Which is why you’ll need to get everyone far away from Seattle.”

He blinks slowly, then narrows his eyes. “I don’t like the sound of that. Where the fuck are you going to be?”

“I’ll be buying you time to run.” I exhale a heavy breath. “At that point, we may have no choice but to ask for help from our Canadian friends.”

He schools his features, rubbing his jaw. “I have to say, I’m surprised you came to that conclusion on your own. But I’m so fucking relieved you did.”

“Let’s try to avoid needing to call on them if we can help it, though, okay?” Friends or not, I don’t want to be indebted to anyone.

Blake nods again.

I push the food around my plate, swallowing a few bites before my phone buzzes on the table between us.

“Speak of the devil,” Blake remarks dryly.

I reluctantly pick up my phone and answer the call. “Mother.”

“So formal,” she purrs in a voice laced with amusement. “I understand you and Blake are still gallivanting around New York City while your lovely little human has returned to Seattle.”

A muscle ticks along my jaw, and I frown at the twitch in my eye. “That’s right.”

“I was resigned to accept your trip there to keep tabs on Camille, however—”

“Rest assured, I have eyes on her there.”

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