“Go on.” This was the reason Custo had escaped Heaven, after all. If he had to go back (or to a warmer climate), it would be somewhat satisfying to know that the traitor was neutralized.
“Twenty-seven of the thirty-five soldiers survived the wraith attack. They were the only ones privy to the details of the mission. All are accounted for except one, Geoff, his partner murdered, but not by a wraith. Geoff logged on briefly to the Segue server during the cleanup, so it’s unlikely he was taken by the wraiths for a little late-night snack. And it makes sense that he’d run, now that the pool of suspects has been narrowed from several thousand to only twenty-seven.”
Sounded too easy. Custo didn’t like it.
“But to be completely safe,” Adam continued, “I’ve asked the rest of the team from last night to move to voluntary containment at the New York Segue compound for the duration of the investigation. I intend to question them all regardless.”
That was better. Adam would be thorough, especially where Talia was concerned.
If there’d been enough time, Custo would’ve liked to have performed the interviews himself. A couple of pointed questions would’ve yielded the man pretty quickly, even if he were lying. Mind reading was much more efficient than a lie detector test.
There were too many dangers from too many different sides. “Adam, I’m going to need a weapon. I don’t want to be unarmed.”
“Got your Glock right here.”
Annabella emerged from the bathroom, leaving the light on, scared of the dark. Her hair was parted to the side and hung in soft, deep toffee waves around her face to her shoulders. She wore little makeup that he could see, except for a deepening of color at her lips.
“Good,” Custo said. “We’ll be right up.”
Annabella looked from Adam’s ashen sober face to Custo’s. Neither was talking and the tension in the car was poisoning the air. The connection she’d shared with Custo that morning felt weirdly severed and distant, though just looking at his profile made her want him all over again. Wanting Custo was a fantastic distraction from the lure of the Shadowlands. That is, if Custo would talk to her or signify in some way that they were in this together. They were a team, weren’t they?
But it wasn’t as if she could ask while third-wheel Adam was right there, especially with Custo riding shotgun and her in the backseat. She’d just have to wait until they were alone again.
The mood heightened the sense that everything seemed shadowed today, the darkest places falling to impenetrable black. A prickly awareness told her that they were being followed. Flashes of adrenaline jumped her nervousness to paranoia. She hugged the fear close to keep her on edge, her mind sharp. Her anxiety, added to last night’s aches, made her muscles and joints complain bitterly, but ballet had taught her to tell good pain from bad pain. Bad pain meant you were hurt. Good pain kept you on the top of your game. This was good pain, a centering pain; she couldn’t afford to lose herself to Wolf again.
She knew they were going to meet others like Custo. She figured they were going to ask for help with their next try. The performance season would open in a few days, and this time she intended to get it right. They’d ask for help, make a plan, and get rid of Wolf.
The day called for proactive, forward movement. Custo and Adam, however, looked like they were going to a funeral.
“Anyone care to clue me in?” she asked. She kept her tone light to counter the oppressive mood.
After the horrible performance last night, and being duped by Wolf into almost going with him voluntarily, she couldn’t stand any secrets.
Custo glanced over his shoulder at her from the front seat. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
Macho bullshit always ticked her off. She countered it with a little bitch. “I need to know what’s going on.”
But Custo turned abruptly back to Adam. “No, over there. I can feel it, not more than a block from us.”
He was ignoring her. Not one hour ago, he’d been inside her, and now he refused to answer.
Adam slowed the car to a crawl and glanced at Custo. “You ready for this?”
Adam was ignoring her, too.
“I want it taken care of,” Custo answered.
Pigheaded men. “Someone needs to fill me in right now, or…”…or she didn’t know what she’d do, but it would be extremely unpleasant for everyone.
“You already know, Annabella,” Custo said placatingly. She didn’t like his impersonal voice. This wasn’t the man who’d just shared her bed and her body. He continued, “I’ve been called in to meet with some of the others like me. I hope to get some information about how to deal with the wolf.” To Adam, he suddenly said, “Damn it! Here!”