Slumping against the door, I locked myself inside, just like Graeson had wanted.

Chapter 6

A short buzz caused my phone to vibrate across the table, and the incoming notification made me hesitate with my spoon halfway to my mouth. I hadn’t seen Graeson all morning, and I hadn’t gone to the door when Dell knocked thirty minutes ago. Not to be deterred, she’d plopped on the steps to wait me out or play sentry. I didn’t care either way. But seeing as how wargs aren’t keen on technology, I caved to impulse and unlocked my cell.

A text from an unfamiliar number lit up the screen, a quick promise to discuss the surveillance footage after the unknown sender slept off the nightshift.

Thierry. It had to be.

The promise of an eight-hour delay made me twitchy. The footage was the only promising angle I had uncovered. The marshal onscreen had answers. She must. The other feelers I had sent out had been met with dead air, and a creeping suspicion made me question if Vause was directly involved in the radio silence. It wouldn’t surprise me. Being the pet project of a powerful magistrate came with strings attached. One wrong move and those slender filaments became the garrote that strangled you.

Setting the phone on the table, I resumed the eating of my breakfast, half wishing Aunt Dot would misplace her reading glasses or her paperback, anything to warrant a quick visit. But she rose with the sun each day. No exceptions. By the time I had climbed out of bed, she and Isaac had already eaten and returned to their respective trailers. Her to watch soaps. Him to resume tapping away at his keyboard.

Tempted as I was to seek out their company, I didn’t want to explain my bleak mood last night to Isaac, and I didn’t want to go another round with him either. Not when it meant borrowing from Dell and giving her—and Graeson—access to my headspace.

Writing off my soggy flakes as a lost cause, I dumped them in the trash then washed and dried my bowl before trudging back to bed. I sat on the edge of the mattress, arm extended, about to watch the Charybdis video for the one hundred and second time, when a knock on the door saved my eyeballs from the repetitive strain.