Page 39 of Sacrifice
I grin and take off the second the light changes, her surprised yelp music to my ears.
By the time we reach her complex, she's molded against me like a second skin, breathing hard, her fingers twisted in the leather of my cut.
"You're an asshole!" She's off the bike before I've even killed the engine.
"You're welcome for the safe ride home."
"Safe? You took that last turn at sixty!"
"Forty-five," I correct. "And you loved it."
"I—" She stops, looking toward her parking area. "At least my car made it in one piece."
I can see it in the visitor section where Gorm must have parked it. "Your brother probably passed out the second he got inside."
"Knowing him, he's already snoring." She starts walking toward the building, then pauses. "I should check on him."
"He's a grown man."
"He's my little brother." She pulls out her phone, shooting off a quick text. A moment later it buzzes. "He says he's in bed and I should stop mothering him. Also that you drive like a badass and he's jealous."
"Smart kid."
"Don't encourage him." She pockets her phone. "Well, thanks for... whatever this was. You can go now."
"I'll walk you up."
"That's not necessary."
"Humor me."
I'm already heading for her car to do a quick visual check—habit from too many years of threats.
That's when I see them.
"Fuck."
"What now—" She follows my gaze. "What's wrong with my car?"
All four tires, slashed to ribbons.
Sometime in the last twenty minutes while Soren was going upstairs and we were riding here.
While her car sat unprotected.
Someone's watching. Someone who wanted to make a point.
"Stay behind me," I order, hand going to my weapon as I scan the lot. "Now, Saga."
This wasn't random vandalism—it's a message.
"Stay back," I order, pulling out my phone to activate the flashlight.
No other obvious damage, but that doesn't mean shit.
Could be more subtle sabotage under the hood, or?—
"Are those my tires?" Saga's voice is smaller than I've ever heard it. "Emil, are those?—"
