Shit. Colin. I’d forgotten about him for all of a few seconds, and the relief that washed over me completely disappears again. I might not currently be in danger, but Perry’s still facing the threat to either turn in Colin or be offed instead, and I don’t like either of those options.

“Where do we start?”

Tommy cracks his knuckles. “Give me what you know, a strong coffee, and about fifteen minutes. I’ve got this.”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

PERRY

It takes more like nineteen minutes, and he doesn’t touch his coffee until he’s done, but Tommy does it. He finds a guy who looks the least like St. Clare it’s possible to look while still clearly being related. Unlike St. Clare, this guy’s expression is permanently terrified, and maybe that’s his real face, or maybe he’s actually terrified. I’ll hold out my judgment until I meet him.

Tommy tracked him from security camera to camera until we reached SODO and then … nothing. So I guess the first place we’ll start looking is there.

“It’s a big area to cover, so we’ll organize supplies and meet back here tonight,” Ever says. “It’ll be easier to search when it’s not busy.”

“What type of supplies?” I ask, picturing night-vision goggles and flare guns.

“Comms equipment.”

Huh. Well, that’s still cool, even if slightly less cool than my first thoughts.

A yawn rips through St. Clare. “Tonight? I might try to get some sleep before then.”

“Yeah, we didn’t have any last night,” I add, which makes it sound sexual but actually wasn’t.

“First rule is to always be well rested,” Arlie says. She’s in take-charge mode, which is one of her hotter modes for sure. “You can’t watch anyone’s back if you’re not at your best.”

Lars’s voice is more eager than usual. “Of course. You’re so right.”

You’re so right?

I narrow my eyes, amused and suspicious. Does Larsy-boy have a crush? I mean, I can’t blame him. Arlie is a force. And hey, if he’s all schmoopy over her, then that’s total confirmation that he’s not going to suddenly turn around and decide he’s in love with my pookie-bear. Maybe once this is over, I can play matchmaker. I’ve never created romance on purpose, so it could be fun.

“Everyone okay for now?” Arlie checks.

“Sure am.” Knowing St. Clare isn’t in actual danger and that apparently I was the only one trying to kill him has given me whiplash, but I can’t lie and say I’m not relieved. Guilty, yes. There’s lots of that. But relief is a close second.

In this entire room, I’m the only one potentially wanted dead, and those odds are a lot better than what I initially thought they were.