Page 68 of Sacrifice
"Not if we sell it right," I suggest. "Make it look like we're desperate to move product after the attack. Like we're scared. We just need to pull Doran in on it, considering."
"You want them to think we're weak?" Rati sounds offended.
"I want them overconfident. Easier to kill."
"Emil's right," Runes decides. "Let them think they've rattled us. Meanwhile, we hunt."
"Emil," Runes says askirkjawinds down. "How's Saga?"
"Shaken but safe. She's staying at my place."
"Good. Keep her there." He pauses. "This accelerates things with the Irish. We need those drugs moved now, before Los Coyotes make another play."
"I'll coordinate with Doran today."
"Do it." He bangs the gavel. "Kirkjadismissed. But nobody goes anywhere alone. Teams of two minimum until this is handled."
The room empties slowly, brothers grouping up, checking weapons.
The hall outside is buzzing with energy—old ladies asking questions, prospects trying to look useful.
War footing.
I've seen it before, in the military and the club.
The moment when everything shifts from routine to survival.
I'm almost to my bike when Ivar catches up.
"Emil."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For getting Elfe help." He runs a hand through his hair, and I notice the new lines around his eyes, the gray that wasn't so prominent last week. "I can’t lose my daughter, you know."
"You won't. I promise you that."
"Starla wants Elfe to move back home. Thinks she can protect the girls better."
"What do you think?"
He meets my eyes. "I think my daughter's safer in a hospital surrounded by prospects than in my house right now."
Fuck, I mean, think about what happened to Bjorn a couple of years ago, and he was in Kraken’s house.
It’s possible she might be safer in the hospital.
He nods and walks away.
My phone buzzes—text from Saga.
Saga:
Everything's okay at the shop. The prospects are teaching each other card tricks. Andrew showed them how. It's painful to watch.
Me:
Tell them to stick to doing their fucking jobs. Who is Andrew?
