Stupid tears wavered in my vision. Neely was a good egg.
“Where are we going?” I climbed in her car and waited for her to join me. “I’m guessing Mallow is out of the question.”
“Boaz said to get you home.” She cranked the engine then sped out of the lot, hands white-knuckled on the wheel. “We can have burgers delivered if you want. I don’t have anywhere to be since I’m off early. For once, I don’t have any studying to do either. Classes don’t start back until next week.” She glanced over at me. “It’s been forever since we spent more than five minutes together.”
“Burgers it is then.” I pulled up the app for our favorite pub and started ordering. “To molten lava cake for dessert or not to molten lava cake for dessert?”
“How is that even a question?”
When she was right, she was right.
Thirteen
The delivery girl almost beat us to the front door, and I could have kissed her rosy cheeks once the smell of hand-cut fries hit my nose. Food made my situation seem less dire. Food that I could now pay for without counting out lint-covered pennies I dug from under the couch cushions would taste even sweeter.
While I swiped my debit card through the girl’s card reader and tacked on a fat tip to encourage her to zip out here the next time I ordered, Amelie carried the bags into the kitchen and set up our feast.
“I picked up the Oregon Trail card game last week,” I said while bumping the door shut with my hip. “Do you want to see who can die of dysentery first?”
The Oregon Trail was the first video game I had ever played. Amelie had a brother, so she was no stranger to the virtual landscape. Being an only child with a caretaker who was known to grumble over the switch from horse and buggy to automobiles meant the antiquated program on our school computers was my first exposure to gaming. Though Amelie would bust a gut laughing if I called it that out loud.
“Maybe after we eat?” She stuck her face in the bag and inhaled. “That game always makes me hungry.”
“Me too.” I rubbed my stomach. “I always run out of food first.”
We settled on our usual stools and passed out the grub, not wasting time on things like manners before digging in with moans of approval.
“Boaz told me you’ve been reinstated as the Woolworth heir,” she said around a bite of hamburger. “It’s nowhere near enough for what they put you through, but it’s a good start. I assume that means they forked over your inheritance too?”
“They did indeed.” And it could all vanish again in the blink of an eye.
“Have you considered setting up an offshore account,” she asked too casually.
“I haven’t even checked to see how much is in there, so that’s a no.” I laughed off the suggestion until I caught her expression. “You’re serious?”
“Promise you won’t tell my lunkhead brother about this?”
“Cross my heart.”
“He coped with you being gone by planning prison breaks, and I might have gotten wrapped up in the logistics with him a time or two. He had all these contingency plans outlined, but I kept circling back to how expensive it would be to live your life on the run, and it got me thinking about your inheritance. Maud was old school. Remember how much she hated checkbooks? Forget credit or debit cards.” She shook her head. “What kept me up nights was thinking if she’d diversified instead of lumping all her cash in one bank, and a Society branch at that, you might have been set. Offshore accounts are the best option, and I do mean multiples, but normal human banks would offer you some protection too.”
“You think I might be in a position where I need this one day.” Hard to blame her when I felt the same.
“I think the new Grande Dame has a vested interest in you, and until we know what that is, you’re in danger.” Seeming to have lost her appetite, she set down her food. “You don’t want to draw her attention if she’s watching your account.” Considering the Society had established it themselves, that was a given. “But withdrawing a little here and a little there and using it to pad your contingency plan seems like a solid idea to me.”
Chest bowed with pride, I was seriously impressed with her advice and felt like more of a heel than ever for begrudging her the education she had worked so hard to earn. “Boaz and I were wondering what you planned on doing with your MBA. I’ll have to let him know you’re using your education to mastermind cushy lives for fugitives.”
“Hey.” She dusted off her shoulder. “Somebody’s got to do it.”
After inhaling a handful of salty fries, I noticed we had nothing to wash them down with and stood. “Do you want some tea or lemonade?”
“Tea, please.” A text message chimed in Amelie’s pocket, and she pulled out her cell and skimmed the screen. “Boaz lost the vampires.”
I flicked a glance at the front door like they might be polite enough to knock first before devolving into fist-banging and more threats. “Have they realized you sneaked me out yet?”
“I’ll ask.” Her fingers blurred over the keys. Before she hit send, the phone rang. “I’m not slow,” she snapped in the voice reserved for her brother. “I have short fingers.” She listened for a second. “Grier is right here, safe and sound. No— Are you crazy? Wait. Don’t answer that.” She thrust the phone at me. “You deal with him.”
“What is your damage?” I asked through a mouthful of juicy burger goodness.
“The vamps scattered after the late-late tour departed,” he panted, footsteps hammering in the background. “They must have gotten the tour schedule from Cricket. She wouldn’t think anything of a victim requesting a specific guide. That or they’ve been watching you long enough to figure it out on their own. Either way, it’s bad news. The leader peeled off when you didn’t lead the nine o’clock tour, but I spotted him circling the block in a black Escalade. When the midnight group left and you were nowhere in sight, the whole crew ditched.”
“Do you think they’ll come after me at home?” My stalkerpire wasn’t shy about trespassing.
“I’d bet money on it.” Metal clinked in the background. “Be there in a few.”
“See you when you get here.” I ended the call then exhaled. “Boaz is on his way.”
“What about the vampires?”
“We might have company.” I packed up my food and shoved it in the fridge for later. While I was up, I took a moment to check the jury-rigged wards, but their low-level hum indicated they were holding firm. “Let’s hope Boaz gets here before they do.”
Amelie’s hand lifted to her throat, and she rubbed the skin there with her fingertips.
A knock on the door interrupted me before I could pour us drinks, and we exchanged wary glances.
“Sit tight,” I told her and stalked across the room where I peered through the peephole. Volkov grinned at me, his usual guards flanking him, both armed to the teeth. Blowing out an exhale, I rested my forehead against the door. “Looks like we have backup.”
Volkov might be pissed about how things played out last night, but he wouldn’t burn any bridges until I gave him back his bangle. Still, I double-checked with Woolly. “Is it safe?”
The chandelier crystals tinkled like laughter.
The door swung open under my fingers, and Volkov lifted a gauzy scrap of royal-blue fabric. “This was found in our box. The courier from the Lyceum returned it to me since we arrived together.” The silver purse full of my ID was clutched in his hand. “And this I forgot to return to you last night.”
“Thank you.” I pocketed Amelie’s cell for a minute while I reached out and snagged the purse. “I meant to text you to arrange for a pickup, but I got distracted. You saved me a trip.”