I could always just get a purse.
And lose it in approximately ten seconds.
Besides, purses aren’t very assassin-chic.
But utility belts are!I should get a utility belt!
That would have to wait for my next online shopping spree, because I had more important things to do. When I got back downstairs and joined Paul in the foyer, I was a bit breathless.
“Ready! Wanna drive to this den of sin, secrecy, and subterfuge?” I asked, grinning brightly. I probably should have been less jazzed about going to such a dangerous place, but it was like I was a real detective! If my mom could see me now, I was sure she would be proud.
Yeah, except for that whole me lying about being a psychic thing.She always wanted me to embrace being an empath.
She’d be so sad that you’re ashamed of it now.
Okay, subconscious, not the time.
Give a girl a break!
“Oh, we’re not driving.”
My eyes popped wide open. “We’re not?”
“No, I figured taking my car would make it too easy for me to be tracked if someone was following me. I took a rideshare to the subway, took the subway to the other side of the city, and made a couple of different transfers before hopping in a cab here. I figured we’d call an Uber to another line, ride it as close as we can to the bazaar, then walk from there.”
“I see.”
That made complete sense, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of that at all. So much for my convincing charade of being a psychic.
“Is that all right with you?”
“Y-yeah, fo sho, fo sho, fo sho. Could use a little cardio.”
Once I’d woken up from my fourteen-hour coma, I’d thrown myself into research, chasing the internet rabbit hole about killers for hire, unethical life hackers, and basically all the seedy underground stuff that didn’t require a trip to the dark web. I knewhowto get onto that particular blight on the digital world, but I didn’t have any desire to go there. I only wanted information; I didn’t actually want to hire an assassin.
I’d packed details and factoids away in my brain, but I’d gotten a little lost in the weeds because I hadn’t even come close to finding any practical application of said information when Paul called me and told me about the clandestine bazaar we were going to.
“Shall we get our stroll on?” I asked, ready to hustle past the awkward.
“Of course.”
When Paul and I had stood so close to each other in Jackson’s bedroom, I’d felt quite a bit closer to him than Ihad any right to be. I’d always been a rather fast maker of connections, usually quick to forge and quick to crumble to dust, so it wasn’t exactly shocking. That brick wall around him had been gone, and I’d felt like we were sharing a genuine connection.
But now he was a little more shut off, like the short time we’d spent apart had formed a gap between us. That was… disappointing.
As we headed out the door, Imaybeleaned into my empathic abilities as I glanced at the handsome man beside me out of the corner of my eye. To my relief, I could see some of his emotions gently wafting behind him, though more muted than before.
Okay, so not totally back to square one, but a definitive step back. Oh well. It made sense that his feelings wouldn’t be as intense as the first day we met and someone had sent an assassin after his little brother.
“How is Jackson?” I blurted. Shit, maybe I should have used a code word or something. God, sometimes I really was too stupid to live. I guess my ego could never get too big because I would always end up humbling myself all on my own.
But for what it was worth, Paul didn’t react negatively. “He’s going stir-crazy, but he’s fine. You’ll forgive me if I don’t say exactly where he is.”
“In a hidden underground cache your family has had for generations? Not on your estate, but reachable through some sort of hidden passage there?”
Paul did that thing where he didn’t answer immediately, and I could practically hear his mind whir. “I think, in my absence, I forgot about the whole psychic thing.”
“Happens to the best of us.”