Chapter 9
MIA
Elena is waiting for me when I arrive at the mansion at just after eight in the morning.
Okay, maybe not me personally, because I see her stop Donahue as I park and conduct what looks like an interrogation before letting him through.
But then she’s still standing there as I get out and approach.
And it feels like I’m about to be arrested for a crime I didn’t commit.
Or maybe I did. With Elena, you never know; you just assume you’re guilty.
She stands in front of the door with her arms crossed and her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose like the weapon they are.
“Miss Reyes.”
“Elena.” I match her energy. Killer for killer—or I do my best. “Good morning.”
“Is it?”
“Uh, you tell me?”
“There was an incident on the grounds yesterday. Some kind of rodent was spotted in the topiary.”
Merda.
“Rodent? Like a mouse?”
Her eyes narrow like I’ve just admitted it was me. “Someone claims to have seen a raccoon. Can you tell me anything about that?”
“I know very little about raccoons, ma’am.”
That’s the truth.
I know even less about Echo himself.
She studies me with the intensity of the oracles from The NeverEnding Story.
“There is a rodent loose on these grounds,” Elena says with the authority of a woman who once made a visiting alpha general apologize for tracking mud across her marble floors.
And then wipe it up with his own handkerchief.
“It left what I can only describe as the skeleton of a breakfast sandwich on the garden wall.” She looks right through me. “Do you know anything about this?”
I meet her gaze with everything I have. “If I had an explanation about any of it, I would share it with you.”
No lies detected.
Who could possibly explain Echo’s behavior? Not me.
A long pause.
“Fine,” she says finally, making another note. What she’s writing, I genuinely don't want to know. Maybe signing a kill order on me. “I'll be calling pest control.”
“That seems like a reasonable course of action.”
She gives me one more look—the kind that suggests she knows exactly where the bodies are buried because she put them there—and turns back down the corridor the way she came, heels clicking with the precision of a guillotine.
I honestly don’t know who would win in that fight: Elena or Echo. But I also don’t want to find out. Thank the wolf goddess he didn’t ride in with me today. In fact, I looked everywhere for him when I woke up this morning, but he was already gone. Probably off robbing a jewelry store blind.
Andy is sitting at Lexi’s desk with the focused energy of someone who has already completed twelve tasks before nine a.m. and is mildly disappointed in everyone who hasn’t.
She’s proven to be more than capable as Lexi’s second and a good balance for the carefree she-alpha. Honestly, Andy’s Type A personality scares even me sometimes. Though not as much as Elena does.
“Morning,” she says without looking up.
“Morning. Are the alphas in?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Just Grey. He’s on a call with the insurance company about the restaurant claim, but he should be done soon.”
“How are they?” I ask. Meaning: How are they after yesterday? After the fire and Bobby and Crow and Claire and all the things that happened to remind us this war is just beginning.
Andy looks up then, as if she’s just remembered what all went on and how deep my question goes. Something in her expression softens just slightly. “Grey is manic about Lexi’s safety, as usual.”
“Speaking of which, can you please tell them sneaking off to the cabin isn’t making them safer?”
She smirks. “Believe me, I already made them promise that was the last time.”
“Thank you.”
“Was Grey really as stealthy as he claimed all those years working against his dad?” she asks, her brows lifting in skepticism.
I snort. “He was when I made the plan. But his own plans… well, you can see where that landed them.”
She snorts. “Let me guess. That wedding performance was all his idea?”
“Don’t forget Dutch,” I remind her.
“How could I possibly forget a performance worthy of an Oscar?” She laughs.
I bite my tongue because I think she’s being serious. She actually finds Dutch’s antics…cute. And I don’t want to ruin that for him because I’m pretty sure he won’t get another chance like Andy again.
“Is Lexi around, then?” I ask.
“She’s out back. Said she needed some air after I lectured them about their not-so-sneaky sleepover.” She softens another degree. “She’ll be glad to see you.”
“Thanks.”
The Giovanni estate’s back garden is the one part of the property that doesn’t feel like Franco built it to intimidate people.
It's older than the rest of the renovations—stone paths worn smooth, a simple yet beautiful fountain, climbing roses along the south wall that must have been put there by a woman.
Or at the very least, someone softer than Franco Giovanni ever was.
I’m just turning the corner past the hedge when a voice that isn’t Lexi’s reaches me.
“—and then the wolf just shifted into a person right there in the middle of the yard, and I thought, okay, so this is my life now, and honestly? I was more excited than scared, which I think says something about me as a person—”
“It says you’re either extremely brave or extremely unhinged,” Lexi says.
“Why not both?”
“The first time I saw Grey shift, I fainted,” Lexi says, which is an intriguing little tidbit. I make a mental note to ask her to tell me that story sometime.
I round the rose wall to find Lexi and Violet sitting on the stone bench near the fountain.
Lexi in dark jeans and boots, braid loose, a coffee mug in hand.
And Violet, Lexi’s human best friend, the one Ramsey had beaten half to death, sitting beside her with her legs crossed and her strawberry blonde hair catching the morning light.
Frankly, she has a remarkable amount of energy for someone who should, by any reasonable metric, still be in bed.
Although, she looks better than last time I saw her. The bruising has faded. The split lip is healed. She’s wearing a sweater that’s a few sizes too big for her petite frame, along with leggings and dangly earrings that are shaped like small moons.
“Hey,” I call out. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”
“Not at all,” Lexi says, waving me over.
Violet spots me, and her face brightens.
“Oh, hi again! You’re Mia, right? Lexi talks about you constantly. She says you’re terrifying but in a good way.”
“Is that a compliment?” I ask.
“Definitely,” Lexi says with a smile.
“Razor says there’s special emphasis on the terrifying part,” Violet says, and I wonder exactly when Razor and Violet had time to sit together and talk about anything, much less me.
But Lexi rolls her eyes and says, “Consider the source,” and Violet laughs. Full and easy, like someone who hasn’t recently had reason not to. I like her immediately and involuntarily.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Much better, actually, which is why I keep trying to explain to Lexi that I don’t need to stay in my room like a comfortable prisoner—"
“You’re not a prisoner,” Lexi argues.
“I have yard time,” Violet says, using air quotes around the words.
"You have a security protocol,” Lexi corrects with a frown.
“As opposed to your security protocol, which involves sneaking off without your guard detail,” I say pointedly.
Lexi scowls. “Is this about the cabin because Andy already lectured me?”
“She stole my thunder.”
“We’ve gone there before, and no one knew,” she argues.
“Actually, I was just letting you have a couple stolen nights, but I’ve known all along,” I tell her smugly.
She sticks out her tongue.
Violet watches our exchange and then leans across Lexi, pretending to whisper to me, “Lexi has never been sneaky a day in her life. Just so you know. But we let her think she is.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “You clearly know her well.”
“And as for you.” Violet turns to her with the patient expression of someone who has had this conversation several times. “I have been around awful men my whole life. I know how to be careful.”
“You’re human,” Lexi says. “You’ve been around awful human men. With shifters, you’re breakable in ways that—”
“Everyone is breakable,” Violet interrupts sharply.
And for a split second, her sunny smile is replaced by an expression clouded with frustration and more fear than I realized lurked beneath her friendly exterior. But then she blinks, and the sunshine is back.
“You’re right, it’s a spectrum,” Lexi agrees. “And your risk is on the high end of it.”
Violet considers this with genuine thoughtfulness rather than dismissiveness, which tells me she understands Lexi’s fear even if she does seem a little starstruck about the existence of shifters.
“Okay,” she says. “You’re worried, and that’s fair, considering. But I’m going insane in there. I’ve reorganized my room twice, read four books, had seventeen conversations with Elena about her herb garden—”
“You talked to Elena voluntarily?” I ask.
“She's fascinating! Did you know she once managed three separate estates simultaneously and still found time to assist Franco in his interrogations?”
“You know what, I’m actually not surprised about any of the words you just said.” I shudder.
Violet grins. “She’s such a badass.”
“Totally.” I wouldn’t have picked that word specifically, but sure. “Listen, I need to steal Lexi for a few minutes,” I say. “Pack business.”
Violet waves a hand magnanimously. “Go. Save the city. I’ll be here.” She looks at Lexi pointedly, who has already opened her mouth to argue.
“If she’s somehow made friends with Elena, she’s tougher than she looks,” I tell Lexi with real conviction.
“Look.” I snap my fingers to get Razor’s attention as he passes on the outer sidewalk.
“Hey, Razor.” He looks over the hedge line, and I note the dark circles under his eyes before remembering he was assigned night shift and is probably just coming in from patrols. Shit. “You know what, never mind.”