Chapter Twenty-Five
Over the next couple of days, London and I followed our best friends’ example, stealing every moment we could to be alone together. The other guys didn’t seem to mind, or at least they didn’t bitch about me and London the way they had about Brian and Dylan. Then again, they’d never complained in front of Dylan, so maybe they were just giving London hell behind my back. I didn’t know, and I didn’t really care.
Quinn used his not inconsiderable resources to learn what he could about Julia. He managed to find out who had recruited her, an older agent who still worked as a recruiter. In spite of the fact that the man was still an active agent, Quinn didn’t trust him enough to let him come to the safe house. He arranged a meeting and reported back to us.
“Grimes is one of the most respected recruiters in the agency,” he told us over dinner. “Apparently there’s no one better.”
“I remember him,” Ashe said. “Never knew him that well.”
“I did,” Carmichael chimed in. “He’s the one who brought me on board. He’s a good guy. One of the best.”
Quinn smiled across the table at Carmichael. “That’s what everyone says about him, and I believe it. Anyway, you could have knocked the guy over with a feather when I told him what Julia’s been up to. And he confirmed that she’d definitely not a mimic. He’s not sure how she’s managing what she’s managing—especially since, according to him, she’s always been really bad at thaumaturgy.”
“So that’s two options down,” I said. “That leaves us with what? She’s just developed new skills at random?”
Ashe shook his head, but it was Quinn who responded. “I think that leaves us with option D.”
“Which is?”
“I have no fucking clue.”
Carmichael snorted. “Not real helpful there, boss,” he noted. “If Grimes didn’t know how she’s pulling off sendings, I’m guessing he didn’t know how she masked her magic.”
“Actually, I felt really dumb when I brought that up. I answered the question myself not two seconds after I asked it.”
Everyone looked at Quinn for a moment, waiting for enlightenment. I shifted in my seat, and felt the not-yet-familiar slide of metal against my chest.
“Amulet,” I said, my eyes meeting Quinn’s.
He gave me a smile. “Bingo.”
“Her ring,” London said, laying his fork aside and sitting back in his chair. “She had this ring she wore all the time. She said it was her mom’s and that it reminded her that we shouldn’t live our lives just for ourselves. That there was a bigger picture.”
“That fits with what Grimes told me about her,” Quinn said. “He couldn’t believe that she’d gotten into anything that would involve hurting anyone. He said she was a big believer in the greater good.”
“Yeah, well,” Dylan said, “so were Hitler and Mussolini.”
London pushed away from the table and stumbled out of the room, his face pale and drawn. I started to follow, but Ashe waved me down.
“Best let me handle this one, baby girl.”
I nodded and slid back into my seat, my heart heavy. The hurt I felt for him was an almost physical weight in my chest. I pressed a hand to my ribs as if I could relieve the pressure there, even though it was all in my mind.
To my surprise, Carmichael reached out and took my other hand to give it a little squeeze.
“It’s not really about her, darlin’,” he said. “It’s about him. Remember that.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I nodded anyway.
For maybe ten minutes, I forced myself to sit there, aware of the ebb and flow of conversation around me, but not a part of it. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I went to find London and Ashe. I found them in the bedroom, London with his back against the headboard and Ashe leaning against the wall. Their conversation met an abrupt end as I stepped into the room, but London, at least, didn’t seem to mind the interruption. He patted the bed in invitation, and I went to curl up beside him. He wrapped an arm around me and kissed my hair.
“You okay?” I asked.
He considered a moment before answering. “Not great, but yeah, I’m okay.”
Ashe watched us for a minute before pushing away from the wall. “You gonna remember what I told you?”
London nodded, his face solemn, and pulled me a little closer. “I will,” he said. “And...thanks.”
“Don’t make me regret it, Stretch,” he said, letting his eyes rove over me in a way that made me want to squirm and, to my utter mortification, did make me blush.
“I won’t, I promise,” London said. “Now fuck off.”
Ashe laughed as he walked out, turning the lock on the door before he shut it behind him.
“Do I want to know what that was about?” I asked.
“Probably. Can’t tell you though. Need to know, and all that.”
“Oh, bullshit,” I said, without any heat.
“How about I make it up to you?” he suggested, his tone leaving no question as to how he planned to follow through.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re incorrigible.” I turned his face toward mine and kissed him. “Lucky for me.”