Vivi had a way with metaphors. I cracked a grin. “Well, we solved one bit of the problem, but we’ve got a much bigger part to tackle next. The assholes who murdered Meriden are still on the loose, so you’d better hang tight.”
“Actually…” I could practically see her twirling one of her tight ringlets around her index finger. “All this time cooped up gave me a chance to think about return strategies. I might have figured out a way I could come back—and give you a real hand—without doom raining down on me.”
My chest tightened a little at the idea of my best friend back here in the line of fire, but I’d promised her I wouldn’t keep shutting her out like I had before. And to be fair, staying clammed up hadn’t protected either of us in the end. Vivi had grown up with parents who knew about and wanted to protect the shadowkind. Not the same as being outright raised by a fae woman like I’d been, but while she wasn’t quite as comfortable with supernatural beings as I was, she did have a pretty clear idea of what she was signing up for.
“All right,” I said. “Lay it on me.”
“Well, I figure the main way these people have of identifying me or Gran is through her car. What if I go to the police and report that it was stolen a few days ago? I’ll park it somewhere sketchy but obvious, maybe even call in an anonymous tip too so they’ll find it fast, and then Gran has her car back but it sounds like we weren’t involved in anything it was used for lately. Smooth as butter on a porcelain vase.”
“Hmm.” I kind of wanted to pick that plan apart so I had an excuse to keep Vivi where she was safe, but the truth was it sounded pretty solid. “Are you sure the baddies couldn’t have seen it parked at your Gran’s house in between your scouting missions? Besides the car, what about the questions you were asking Meriden’s neighbors?”
“Nah, I parked it in a paid lot overnight just in case. And when I talked to the few people I spoke to in person, I had my hair covered by my hood and big sunglasses on—I don’t think they could give a very accurate description of me. I can be a little stealthy.”
I hesitated, wavering between the guilt over shutting my best friend out before and the guilt I knew I’d feel if I led her into more danger.
“Come on, Sorsh,” Vivi wheedled. “Let me pitch in. You let me know what you need, and I’ll be there, no other messing around.”
She might be safer here in the city with a cover story for the car than she was staying in hiding with the sword-star bunch believing she was involved. “Okay. Handle the car thing like you said, and then don’t do anything you wouldn’t normally do until we have a chance to talk more in depth.”
“You’ve got it.” She made an air-kiss sound. “Ditto.”
“Ditto,” I replied, my smile coming back. Our shared love of corny movies included Ghost, which had inspired our trademark farewell.
As I hung up, Omen was just pulling up to the corner on a residential street. He glanced back at me, his gaze as intense as ever. “It never occurred to you that I’d expect you to keep quiet about our activities.”
My shoulders tensed automatically. “That was my best friend—the one who already knows all about the shadowkind and that I’m onto something big?” He’d gotten most of the story in roundtable fashion from the four of us last night. “She’s been advocating for beings like you her whole life through the Shadowkind Defense Fund. There may be ways she can help. After what she saw yesterday, she knows how serious the situation is.”
“Having one mortal in the mix is bad enough.”
“Well, she’s involved now, so you’re shit out of luck.”
I kept my tone flippant, but Omen’s eyes narrowed anyway. “If she compromises our mission, I’ll ensure she can’t interfere anymore.”
My whole back stiffened. “You don’t have to worry about that.” And if you lay one hand on my bestie, you’d better believe the next place you’ll find that hand is rammed up your ass.
Ruse cleared his throat and pointed to a house on the far corner of the block. “That’s the place. Basement apartment, separate entrance. We want to encourage our hacker friend to dig up anything she can about the sword-star group’s activities, right?”
“Particularly anything that could tell us where they’re operating from,” Omen said. “Any regular hunting groups or meet-up spots for their business dealings. But you don’t need to remember all that. I’m coming with you. After everything that’s happened, I think each of you could use plenty of supervision.”
“Sure. Absolutely. The more the merrier.” Ruse chuckled, but he’d tensed at the implied criticism.
“Thorn. Snap.” Omen peered into the shadows next to me. Before he’d opened his mouth again, the other two shadowkind had emerged, so abruptly I found myself squeezed against the door to make room. Thorn could have used a whole back seat to himself.
Snap gave me an apologetic peck on the temple before turning to his boss with an eager gleam in his eyes. “How can I help?”
“I want the two of you patrolling the streets, making sure no one has followed us or takes too much interest in Betsy here. And since I’d like to keep this ‘merry’—Sorsha, you’re coming with Ruse and me. It may be useful to have a mortal around in this particular situation.”
I rubbed my ears in disbelief, but his impatient gesture and Snap’s proud beaming suggested I’d heard him correctly. “You’ll see how much she can help,” the devourer said. He pressed another kiss to my check before vanishing back into the shadows with Thorn.
“I’m sure I will,” Omen said without much enthusiasm, and shoved open his door.
Somehow I suspected Omen’s request was more about not trusting me alone in his car—as if I might shred the cushions like some kind of wild animal… or, well, like Pickle—than about him developing any respect for my talents. I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. The sooner I proved those talents to him, the sooner he’d put a lid on his condescending comments.
“This mortal is a little… quirky,” Ruse said in a low voice as we walked over to the house he’d pointed out as the hacker’s. “And I picked up on a certain amount of defensiveness about that. So, let me recommend that you keep any opinions about her clothing choices and décor to yourselves.”
He’d called ahead so the woman would be expecting him. As he knocked on the back entrance that was down a flight of stairs from the backyard patio, I braced myself not to react to head-to-toe goth-gear, a raver’s rainbow hair and glitter, or possibly a furry costume. It takes all sorts, after all.
I still wasn’t prepared.
“Into the Cavern! Quickly!” hissed the figure who opened the door. A figure in full purple latex bodysuit complete with a yellow blaze of lightning on the chest, a glinting black utility belt, matching black vinyl platform boots, and a black cape she whirled with a dramatic swish.
Our hacker apparently saw herself as Superhero of the Cybernet, with all the trappings. I managed to keep my expression blasé as we stepped into her apartment, but it was a near thing.
She’d modeled the “Cavern” after the Bat Cave: a huge array of computer screens at one end, glass cases holding a couple of costume changes and assorted comic-book-esque weaponry next to it, slate-gray paint from concrete floor to ceiling, and light streaming in hazy beams from a circle of pot lights mounted overhead. A moped decked out with metallic black plating leaned against the wall by the entrance. Hoo, boy.