Peter had once had a crush on Spenser too, before he met me. She was the tall, flaxen-haired beauty of the family. She looked like a ballerina, but was downright frightening in training. She wasn’t just good at hand-to-hand, she was a dangerous sniper. But what made her scary was how cunning she was. She could outsmart any adversary, always one step ahead.

Kansas was the opposite of her older sister. Strawberry blonde and five-feet-one (and a half), she was the loudest of the Marcel granddaughters. We both led units in my father’s militia, and as much as they respected me, they feared Kansas. Our fathers, Spenser, and I were the only ones who dared cross her. She wasn’t only intimidating, she was ruthless.

Peter nodded then slid past Spenser, stopping to greet someone else. I peeked behind her. “Kansas?” My voice went up an octave. I wasn’t expecting Spenser to bring her. We were like a small group of unbeatable Amazons when we were together. Not in height, but absolutely in bad assery. “Oh my hell!” I said, hugging them both. Now it was Kansas’s strawberry-blonde hair mashed under my arms.

When I let them go, my cousins stepped inside. I showed them to their room, where they unloaded but didn’t unpack.

“I’ve been in a car with Spence since dawn. I want alcohol and bar food, stat,” Kansas said.

“I have just the place,” I said.

Spenser eyed me.

“You’ll like it,” I assured her.

***

“You lied,” Kansas said, staring blankly at the exterior of McCormack’s.

“Oh, please. When did you become such a snob?” I asked.

“Since I turned twenty-one and had a choice to go to a shithole or not.”

“This is not a shithole. It’s actually pretty nice inside,” I said, holding open the dark metal door. “And the owner is a friend, so don’t start any shit.”

Spenser and Kansas preceded me, looking around the moment they were inside. Spenser chose a table instead of the bar, and Kansas went straight toward Jerry.

“Be nice,” I warned.

Kansas held up a fist and extended her middle finger.

Spenser let her chin rest on the heel of her hand, her eyes heavy. “She’s put up with me all day. Let her get a drink then she’ll be fine.”

Jerry waved to me, and I waved back, watching him chat with Kansas with a smile on his face. His ability to win her over shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. She returned with a tray with three shots and three beers, standing on her tip toes to place the tray on the high-top table.

“Shots,” Spenser deadpanned.

“Yep,” she said, holding hers up. We did the same. “To family, home, and abroad. To fallen brothers and sisters. To cruel and unusual punishment in the form of hours in the car with Spenser.”