Terrance pulls up out front of the casino to the valet. Before he can get out of the car, I lean forward and place my hand on his shoulder. “You’ll remember what they look like?”
Terrance lifts the copy of the two sketches from the passenger seat and glances at them once more. “I’ll remember.” He growls. I believe him. These men killed many of his friends, shot him, and want me dead. He’s out for blood.
I start to hand the drawing to Illren. He glances briefly at it and shakes his head. “I’ve got their faces in memory. Don’t worry.”
He’s so confident. Then again, he stalks people for a living. He must be used to finding people from their pictures. I take one more look and then try to remember the faces from the imprint. I replay the whole scene in my mind. It’s really unnecessary. Their faces are burned into my memory.
Terrance rounds the car and looks around like some kind of secret service agent before opening the door for Illren and me. Illren gets out first, glances around subtly, then holds out a hand for me. As I take his hand, an image niggles at my brain. The memory of the two hunters leaving the diner runs through my head again. There’s something about it that’s bugging me. Like I’m missing something.
“Nora?” Illren asks when I don’t automatically get out of the car.
Ignoring him, I close my eyes and think of the imprint again. Of the two men placing the bomb. I remember their faces, their voices, their walks as they returned to their car. My eyes snap open, and I gasp. Immediately, the voices of my entire team fill my head. “I’m fine,” I promise. “I just remembered something from my vision.”
I finally let Illren help me from the car. I’m too distracted by the vision to feel the freezing cold. “The men, after they planted the bomb, they both climbed into the back seat of the SUV, and it immediately sped away.”
There’s a beat of silence and then several curses. “There’s a third,” Nick says grimly.
“A getaway driver,” I agree. “And it could be anyone. With the windows on the car so tinted, I’ve never seen so much as a silhouette.”
I look around but see nothing out of place. Just the poor valet man bundled up in his coat, waiting for me to step away from the car so he can go park it.
“If the man has stayed in the car up to this point,” Nick says, “then it’s a reasonable assumption that’s where he is now.”
“I’ll have a team do a search of the premises for all black SUVs with tinted windows,” Parker chimes in.
“It’ll probably be running. It’s too cold out here for a human to sit in a car with no heat,” I say, shaking off a shiver. “It’s too cold to be outside in a damn dress and heels.”
Illren offers me his arm. “Then let’s get you inside.”
I step away from the car so that the valet can do his job, but I hesitate to go inside. “Do you think we should stand here a minute longer? I don’t feel anything yet. What if the hunters miss us going in the building?”
“I doubt they’re watching the door,” Parker says. “Henry says the man they caught on camera that they suspected was our guy spent most of his time floating between the two bars inside.”
“Drinks it is, then,” Illren says, pulling me into motion.
“Everyone in place?” Nick asks over the com. “Oliver?”
“Yup,” he says. “I’ve got eyes on the door. I’ll see them as soon as they walk in and won’t let them out of my sight.”
I let out a breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
We head inside to the coat check. Terrance and Illren hand over their coats, then Illren helps me out of mine. When he slips it off, Oliver gasps in my ear, Nick whistles, Parker says “Wow” all breathy, and Rook swears. “You let her out in that dress?” he snarls, probably to Terrance. “Kovros, you kill any man who looks at her.”
When Illren says “With pleasure,” I grip his arm. “No! No killing.”
“Maybe just anyone who leers,” Oliver mutters.
“Ollie!” I laugh. “You all are terrible influences.”
Everyone chuckles. I roll my eyes, but a grin spreads across my face. These men. How did I ever live without them?
Illren places his fingertips on my bare shoulder and runs them down my arm before taking it and tucking it neatly in his. Goose bumps rise on my skin, causing Illren to smile rather smugly. I shoot him a look, and that damn smirk grows. “Sorry,” he says, looking the opposite of repentant. “I never waste an opportunity with a beautiful woman.”
I snort. “So I noticed, when you swore fealty to me without asking my permission first, just so that I’d have no choice but to let you stick around.”
Illren pulls us into motion toward the bar. He’s subtle, but I can see how he’s taking in everything around us. I’m sure no detail is escaping him, despite our conversation. Terrance is a lot more obvious. He’s walking steps behind us, glaring and looking as imposing as possible, as if he’s our bodyguard for the evening. No doubt that’s exactly what he considers himself right now.
“I’ll not deny it.” Illren chuckles. We slowly make our way through the casino like a happy couple out for a night on the town. “I wanted you, and you were going to reject me. I did what I had to do.” I huff in exasperation, and he laughs again. “You don’t understand,” he says softly, patting my arm. “The connection a siren has with her harem—the bond she shares with the men who are lucky enough to have her love—it’s like nothing else. Your song calls to us. It touches our hearts, connects us to you. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said men would kill to have that connection. Take me, for example. I was banished from Faerie when I refused to be the Winter Queen’s sworn lover.”