Page 76 of The Rebel King

“All of this is dangerous, and it’s given that you’ll have security now,” I tell her, my tone brooking no argument. “That’s nonnegotiable.”

“Not dangerous forme.” She pokes her finger in my chest. “I’m worried about you.”

“I have security, too, and I’m not afraid of him.”

“Oh, and your security is so much better than Owen’s was?”

“Frankly, yes,” Grim says, frowning and pulling at a small wire. “Because I manage it.”

I would laugh at Grim’s arrogance if there was anything remotely funny about this situation, which is life and death.

“I wouldn’t trust the government with my goldfish,” Grim says.

“You have a goldfish?” Lennix asks.

“Theoretically,” Grim says, glancing up at her.

“That’s a shame,” Lennix says. “I was trying to envision you going home to lovingly feed a few betta fish.”

“Aren’t those the ones that eat each other?” he asks.

“Exactly,” Lennix returns.

He rolls his eyes, but one corner of that hard mouth tips up. He’s stingy with whole smiles. Half is usually about as much as you’ll get.

“I think he likes you,” I whisper in her ear.

“How can you tell?” she whispers back.

“He hasn’t shot you yet.”

I chuckle at her wry look, the sound rusty and unused in my throat. To feel anything other than immense grief seemed impossible when I woke up this morning, rehearsing my brother’s eulogy. And I’m nowhere near fine, but having Nix with me makes everything feel a little better. I knew it would.

I sit on the couch alone when I call, Lennix and Grim seated across from me. Grim has a set of headphones on and somesophisticated-looking equipment in front of him to trace the call as best we can.

“What do the police say about all this?” Lennix asks, right before I start dialing.

“We’re not exactly telling them yet,” Grim says. “But we will after this, under certain conditions. Mainly that they not go telegraphing our every move and generally screwing everything up.”

“But we want all the resources involved, right?” Lennix asks.

“We want the resourceswewant involved,” I say. “And the ones we don’t need to stay the hell out of our way.”

Lennix still doesn’t look convinced, but we’ll have to have this discussion later.

I dial the number. On the fourth ring, he picks up.

“Maxim?” A familiar voice is broadcast in the room. “Is that you, man? I assume so, since no one else has this number.”

“It’s me.” I try to keep my tone clear of the hatred and resentment corroding my insides.

“Sorry. I was in the shower. Wouldn’t want to be less then presentable when the cops arrived after you trace this call.”

“What do you want?” I ask, ignoring his bait.

“You don’t sound surprised to hear from me, which surprisesme,since you and your Robocop shot me four times and left me to drown.”

“Oh, we came after you. We thought you were dead.”

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