Page 40 of Sacrifice
"Yeah." I stand, scanning the lot. Empty, but that doesn't mean we're alone. "All four."
"Kids?" She suggests, "Maybe just random?—"
"It's not random." I move back to them, positioning myself between Saga and the parking lot. "This is targeted."
She's trying to sound calm, but I hear the shake underneath. "Los Coyotes?"
"Maybe. Anyone else have reason to fuck with you? Ex-boyfriend, pissed off customer at work, anyone?"
"No, I... no." She wraps her arms around herself. "Should we call the cops?"
"The club will handle it." I'm already texting Magnus, telling him about the situation. "Let's get inside."
"I don't need?—"
"Saga." I turn to face her fully, letting her see how serious this is. "Someone slashed your tires. That same someone knows where you live, what you drive, probably your schedule. We're going inside, I'm checking your apartment, and then we're deciding the next steps. Fight me on this later, when you're safe."
She nods, subdued by the reality of the threat.
I hate seeing her scared, but I hate the thought of her hurt more.
The walk to her apartment is tense.
I go first, hand on my weapon, clearing each landing before letting her follow.
I can hear Soren's muffled snoring from the hallway—kid must have passed out the second he hit the bed, drunk enough to sleep through anything.
"Key," I demand at her door.
She hands it over without argument.
I enter first, flipping lights, checking corners.
Living room clear. Kitchen clear. Bathroom clear.
"All clear," I announce, returning to find Saga in the kitchen, pouring whiskey with shaking hands.
"Want one?" she offers.
"I'm good." I lock the door, engage the deadbolt, and chain. "You need to text Elfe. Tell her to stay at the clubhouse tonight."
"Is it really that serious?"
"Someone targeted you specifically. Yeah, it's that serious."
She texts quickly, then sets her phone down. "Elfe says she'll crash in one of the extra rooms. She's worried."
"She should be." I check the windows, making sure they're locked. "You got a piece here?"
"Dad made me get one. It's in my nightstand."
"Good. Keep it close." I turn back to find her watching me, whiskey forgotten. "What?"
"Is it safe for me to be here?"
The fear in her voice breaks something in me.
She's trying so hard to be strong, to not show weakness, but her hands are trembling and her eyes are too bright.
