Page 72 of Fire for Effect

She pulled up beside Noam, and opened the trunk to reveal the man inside, squirming like a worm on the hot concrete. I parked beside the two of them, then got out to stand in front of Taz. Not because I was undermining her, but because I didn’t trust the slippery, slick haired looking bitch at the top of the stairs.

He observed us with quiet amusement, smirking as he lifted a brow.

“And who are your friends, Braun?” He asked.

“Brett,” Braun said, with a shrug. “You know I’m not a solo operator anymore. This is Trinity, and her… friend.”

There was something familiar about this Brett guy. Like I had seen him somewhere before. As if I knew him and hated him in a previous life.

“I’m Kai Griffith.” I broadened my shoulders, wanting to keep Taz from his view. There was just something about this guy.

If he were in a bar, I’d instinctively cover Taz’s drink when he came near.

“Kai Griffith,” he said as if my name was edible. “First son of Director Roland Griffith.”

He took a step down, and all of us - Noam, me, and Taz - took a small instinctive step away.

“And Trinity No-Last-Name.” His brown eyes were the color of dirt on top of a freshly dug grave.

He stood in front of me but didn’t see me. He was staring over my shoulder right at my Firefly.

I was ready to start a fight because of it. I was on edge, like there was static in the air, warning me that something bad was about to happen.

Brett grabbed Trout from the trunk, hauled him over his shoulder and walked away from the house, nodding his head to the side in a clear instruction for us to follow him.

My line of sight never left Trinity, her eyes and mouth as wide as saucers.

“We’re not good enough to step into your haunted castle?” Noam chuckled, following behind me.

“My wife doesn’t need to see this,” Brett said.

“I think she sees it already.” Noam’s gaze traveled up, toward a far away balcony where a woman with thick, red, curling hair and moon-pale skin looked down at the hubbub with sparkling emerald eyes.

Brett stopped, followed Noam’s gaze, then smiled. He blew the woman a kiss. The ethereal red-haired sprite blushed.

The… fuck?

“I only run interrogations in the shed now,” Brett said, moving on from whatever the hell had just happened. “We don’t want the bad energy in the house.”

“Yes, of course,” I said, making eye contact with Taz, who stared at me with a distinct what the fuck? look. “Wouldn’t want the ghosts of tortured enemies to enter the house, and all that.”

“Exactly,” Brett said. “That’s why she’s got Rosemary in all the entrances and routinely sprinkles salt on the perimeter. Apparently, it keeps the bad spirits at bay.”

“Sounds plausible,” Taz said, coming from her daze.

When I caught her eye again, she shook her head, and I knew that, like me, she thought we were in some kind of mad house and was leaning into her sarcasm to get through.

“So why, Noam, have you brought little Miss Trinity to my home?” Brett asked as if Taz’s presence was of more significance than just as a bounty hunter.

I grabbed her hand in mine, squeezing our palms together. I don’t know why. But I needed to touch her. She squeezed my hand back and we walked together behind the pair of old men, into the shed of torture.

I was tense and annoyed, and ready to grab her and run from this asylum.

“She’s one of my best agents,” Noam said, the hostility in the wrinkles of his eyes didn’t match his tone.

“Is she now?” Brett’s voice was hinting at a secret that we weren’t read in on.

Old gardening implements, rusted with age, hung on the walls of the wooden structure, and in the middle was a rope with a hook dangling from the ceiling.

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