“Who the—” she started off, like it was early in the morning—which it might very well be, in her timezone. “Ace?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you in trouble? Scratch that—should you be?”

“Uh—about that,” I began. “I need your help. Well—MSA’s help. And not just our branch—I’ve got some data we need to release from every branch, simultaneously.”

There was quite a long pause on the other side. “Why?”

Because I’m in love, and insane.“It’s important.”

“Oh? Too bad you didn’t sign any contracts before you stormed off.”

“I wasn’t storming. I was dramatically following the woman I love.” I might as well set the stakes for her.

The pause following that statement was even longer. “Uh huh,” she said, without going on further. Then she heaved a sigh. “We didn’t change the locks, and you know Nex will help you. Just don’t tell my Dad I knew anything.”

“Yeah, I already figured that,” I said, pacing as best I could. “The thing is that I don’t just need hardware access—I need back-up.”

“Aceon,” she hissed, much like my grandmother used to, when I spent too much time bouncing on and off the barn roof as a kid.

“I’m coming in a little hot.”

“Like Serrano pepper? Or Carolina Reaper?”

I wrinkled my nose. I couldn’t actually taste hot things, and usually I ate whatever was in front of me. “Which one’s worse?”

I thought she was disappointed in me, until she chuckled. “Okay—I’m texting you Sylas’s number. But if his wife says he can’t go out, Ace, you need to respect that—they just had a baby.”

“He’s married?” My words tumbled out in my astonishment.

If a Nightmare could manage to find love and companionship, I sure as shit had better be able to.

“Yes. I was a bridesmaid.” Her voice was briefly distant, since she’d taken her phone away from her ear. “It was all very lovely. But—it’s their baby’s first Christmas, so don’t you dare fuck this up for them.”

My phone beeped as her text landed. “I won’t, I promise, thanks.”

“Merry Christmas, Ace,” she said kindly, then added. “And good luck.”

“Thanks,” I said, then hung up to dial the number she’d sent me.

“Hello?” A familiar gruff voice said when it picked up.

“Hey, Sylas—it’s Aceon. From work.”

“How many Aceons do you think I know?” he asked, and then his voice sank deeper, becoming something dangerous. “And how did you get this number?”

“Serena.” I felt all right throwing her under the bus for that. “I wouldn’t call if it weren’t important, but it is.”

The Nightmare made a thoughtful sound. “I’m listening.”

I summed up as much of Sarah’s story as I could, quickly, and I didn’t leave anything out—I couldn’t take the Nightmare on a mission with me in good conscience if I didn’t tell him that our enemies were numerous, well-equipped, and bloodthirsty.

“Ahhhhh,” he said, when I finished getting him caught up. “Well then.”

I didn’t know if that was good or bad—but Sarah was looking back at me in hope—and I knew that even if Sylas left me high-and-dry, I’d figure out something, for her sake.

I had to.