“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later.”

They wanted Runa to leave the warehouse, which meant she had to stay here. But Moody just designated himself as an excellent lead. He knew something, and I wanted him to share it with me. I wished Arabella hadn’t left. The safest thing to do was to wait until Heart got here, but for all we knew, someone from Diatheke had a gun to Moody’s head, and if we delayed, he’d be a corpse by the time we got there.

“I need your keys,” I told Runa. “It will go smoother if I drive your car.”

“I’m coming with you. He asked to talk to me.”

Leon tapped his plate with his fork and raised his hands like a conductor. “Three, two, one . . .”

“No,” we all chorused.

I caught a glimpse of Alessandro. He leaned back in his chair with a resigned expression. He knew where this would go, and he was waiting for us to get there. He caught me looking and nodded slightly. He wanted in on the Moody thing and I would be an idiot to go there without backup.

“The rule of thumb is, do the opposite of what the bad guys want you to do,” Leon said. “They want you to go to Moody’s office, so you have to stay here.”

“Leon is right,” I said. “If I wanted to kill you, I would try to lure you out of the warehouse. And then, once I figured out that my ruse had failed, I would hit the warehouse as hard as I could. The most prudent thing would be for all of us to stay here. But somebody must either rescue him or ask him some very important questions, like who convinced him to make that phone call. Arabella is gone, so we’re shorthanded until Sergeant Heart and his people get here, which should be in a couple of hours. Until then, you and Leon are our best defenses.”

“Excuse me?” Grandma Frida said.

“You, Leon, Grandma Frida, Bern, Mom, and Matilda are our best defenses. There, did I leave anybody out?”

Ragnar raised his hand.

“I will instruct Zeus,” Matilda promised. “He is excellent at close quarters defense.”

Alessandro cleared his throat. Yes, I know, I know.

I looked straight at Runa. “I’m going to Moody’s office and I need you to stay here and protect the kids. Please give me your keys.”

Runa dug in her pocket and tossed me the rental’s keychain.

Chapter 10

Being brave was easy in the kitchen, surrounded by my family. But by the time I got to the back door, all of my courage had evaporated. We were about to drive to a place where people would try to kill us. While we were gone, the warehouse was very likely going to be attacked, and Arabella wasn’t here to defend it. I had no doubt that my family could hold the fort. But my sister’s presence guaranteed a quick victory.

I stepped into my office and grabbed a ratty trench coat off the coatrack. My hands shook.

This was ridiculous.

I moved around the office, collecting things I’d need. Let’s see; chalk, spare magazine for the Beretta, phone, keys, what was I forgetting? The sword sheath. I would take the gladius again. It offered the most versatility. I took the sheath out of the cabinet. Driving with it on would be a pain in the butt, so I would buckle it on after we got there.

Alessandro leaned against the door frame and watched me. “It’s very you.” He gave the office an elegant sweep of his hand.

Very me? He didn’t even know who I was. “How so?”

“Organized and businesslike.” He said it like a condemnation.

“It’s a business office. It’s supposed to be organized and businesslike. This is where I work.”

He strolled into the office, reached behind my monitor, and swiped his finger across the desk’s surface. “No dust.”

“That’s a good thing,” I told him. “Dust is bad for computers and people.”

“Have you ever tried making a mess, Catalina?”

“I don’t make messes, I clean them up.” And now I was sounding like a renegade detective from some edgy cop drama.

Alessandro shuddered. “Ooh, so hardcore.”

I ignored him. It was that or throw something, and the chief of police said next time it would be my badge.

I pushed past him and walked out to my car. He followed. I couldn’t see him behind me, but I knew exactly how much space separated us. Sometimes Matilda and I took Zeus to her aunt’s property on the edge of Houston, to walk the trails through the woods. The moment we let him out of the car, Zeus melted into the brush. He would follow us while we took the path, invisible but always there, a dangerous predatory presence gliding through the woods like a ghost, watching us. Walking with Alessandro behind me was just like that.

I took my gladius and slid it into its sheath. The holster was next. I didn’t feel any need to hide it from Moody. I fitted the Beretta into its holster, locked my car, and went to Runa’s Nissan.

Alessandro held out his hand. “Keys.”

I made a face at him, popped the locks open with the fob, and put my coat and sword in its sheath in the backseat.

“Catalina.”

I got into the driver’s seat and shut the door.

Alessandro knocked on my window. I could just drive off, but then I would have to go to Moody’s office by myself. It wasn’t like he could follow me in his car. Oh, oh, that was good.

I rolled the window down. “I thought you’d follow in your Jeep.”

Alessandro leaned his right arm on the top of the car and bent forward, so our faces were close. The urge to scoot out of the way gripped me.

“I get it,” he said. “You had to put on a show for your family. But it’s just us now. I’ll drop you off at a coffee shop, go see Moody, and pick you up on the way back.”

Who the hell did he think he was? “Amazing.”

“Give me the keys,” he said.

“You have two choices. You can get in the passenger seat or you can stand there looking stupid as I drive away.” I rolled the window up and started the car.

He didn’t move. I wiggled my fingers at him in a little bye-bye wave, put the car into reverse, and eased my foot off the brake. The Nissan rolled a bit. He stepped back to save his feet.

I let the car move back another foot.

He looked like he wanted to take the door off the Nissan with his bare hands and pull me out of it.

Another foot. Last chance, Alessandro. I really didn’t want to go there without him. Thinking about it turned my insides cold. But I would if he left me no choice.

Alessandro circled around the front to the passenger side. I unlocked the door. He got in, and suddenly there wasn’t enough air. He stole it all, saturating the car with menace. It rolled off him in waves.

I pulled my phone out and snapped a picture of him. Mine.

He glared at me, his eyes full of orange flames.

“For my private collection,” I told him. “Seat belt, please.”

Moody ran his business from an office building on Bering Drive, sandwiched between the multimillion-dollar mansions of the Villages in the west and the less luxurious but still prosperous neighborhoods of Tanglewood in the east. The traffic was decent for Houston, and the eight-mile drive to Bering took us only twenty minutes.

I turned right and continued down the street. We were almost there.

Alessandro hadn’t said a word since he had buckled his seat belt.

Any other time, the prospect of spending twenty minutes in a car with Alessandro would have petrified me. He filled the vehicle, his presence much larger than his physical body, and his magic simmered just above his skin. I felt it, a volatile power ready to lash out. The faint scent of his shampoo or soap, herbal and slightly spicy, curled around me, enticing and distracting. It was just me and him, together in the car, with the night wrapping around us like a length of smoky velvet.

It would have been shockingly intimate, except that the memories of slitting a human throat with my sword cycled through my head. I saw myself kill over and over, I smelled the blood, I heard the hoarse gasp one of them made through my fingers clamped on his mouth. We weren’t driving to dinner where Alessandro would be charming and clever and make me laugh while I drank my wine. We were going to do terrible things.

Alessandro reached over and touched my right hand. I jerked my hand off the wheel, the Nissan veered right, and I caught it just before it jumped the curb. I glared at him. I must have seemed a bit freaked out, because he rolled his eyes.

“The coffee shop offer is still on the table.”

“What the hell was that?”

“You were gripping the wheel so tight, I thought your fingers would break.”

“I wasn’t.” Yes, I was. My hands hurt.

“I’m good at this. I won’t let you get hurt. We’ll get what we need, get home, and I’ll sample that mythical pithivier I’ve been promised. We’ll have dessert, we’ll have coffee, everything will be fine. You won’t die there.”

“That’s not what I was afraid of.”

“You’re not scared of dying?”

“I am. And I’m scared of getting hurt. But I’m more afraid of what I’ll have to do to walk out of there.”