Page 55 of Code Name: Reaper
“Last night, I proved she can’t.”
“Not in the ways that matter most.”
“Fuck, er, sorry.”
He chuckled. “You’ve been using that word since you were three years old and I got pulled over for speeding and repeated it several times in a row. For the rest of the day—probably longer than that—you walked around the house saying, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ Your mother was quite angry with me until she hit her elbow on something and said it herself.”
I chuckled and checked my phone again. “I’ve really got to go, Dad. I was supposed to schedule a briefing early this morning, which I didn’t do. And I’m waiting to hear about a meeting we hope will take place today.”
“Go on. I’ve said all I wanted to.”
I stood, then leaned down to hug him. “Thank you.”
“Let me know when you want to talk about the other things your brother mentioned.”
“Will do.”
I ran as much as walked to the town house, even though I was in no hurry to face Amaryllis. I knew I needed to, though. I had to do more than apologize. I had to tell her the truth, and that was that I’d made a mistake in sharing such sensitive information, and regardless of how Dagger’s real identity had been revealed, I was to blame for it.
Before opening the front door, I stopped. If I said all that, I’d only be reiterating that I believed she was the one responsible, which part of me still thought was possible.
“Fuck,” I muttered again, then stepped inside.
13
AMARYLLIS
“Hello, mind if I join you?”
I looked up at a woman who looked vaguely familiar, but whom I couldn’t place. Not that unusual, considering I’d spent the first eighteen years of my life here. “Actually, I was about to leave?—”
“I was hoping you might consider staying a few minutes. Amaryllis? Is that right?”
Every nerve ending in my body went live at once and adrenaline flooded my system as I cataloged the threats. Two ways out of the café; the front door was closest. Her hands were visible, but her posture suggested concealed carry. Twelve other patrons sat near enough to be either collateral or cover. My muscles coiled beneath a mask of calm I’d learned from the years of training overlaying my primal urge to run.
“Forgive me. I’m Kyra Black. I should’ve identified myself first.”
Kyra Black? Reaper’s mother? It was possible, but it could also still be a trap. “How?—”
“Mother’s intuition.”
I raised a brow and reached for my weapon when she moved her hand toward her pocket.
“I’m getting my ID, dear. I’m not carrying. I mean, where would I put it?” She was right about the yoga pants she was wearing. Unless she used an ankle holster, which meant she’d have to reach down.
She pulled out a single card and set it on the table. With one hand still on my gun, I picked it up with the other. The diplomatic ID bore the official Department of State seal and her photo and name—Kyra Elizabeth Black. The security features, card stock, and formatting were all authentic. No forgery I’d ever seen could replicate the subtle holographic elements embedded in legitimate State credentials. I set it on the table in front of her.
She motioned to an empty chair. “May I?”
“Sure, but?—”
“I won’t keep you. However, I want to say that I know my son accused you of something quite serious. Last night, he came to the place where we’re staying, knowing he’d hurt you, and frankly, he looked like it was eating him alive.”
At least I now knew where he’d gone. I leaned against the chair and folded my arms.
“While I want you to know I’m not defending him, it did appear he hadn’t slept in quite some time.”
“As long as you’re not defending him,” I muttered under my breath. “Look, I mean no disrespect, but I don’t feel comfortable discussing this with you, Mrs. Black.”
