Page 70 of Lost Kingdom

“Be careful.” She waves me off, sending droopy eyes back to the computer screen. “He’s probably already waiting for you outside. But if he’s not, call and talk to him while you walk. That’ll keep you safe.”

“I’ve walked these two blocks like, seven million times before. Alone. Safe.”

“Uh-huh. But now you’re dating Timothy Malone the Third. That sort of thing comes at a price. Make the call and stop being a stubborn pain in my ass. Swing by the apartment tomorrow morning before work, if you want. I wanna talk to the guys about the Booth case.”

“It’s not their case.”

“No. But they’re gonna have inside information anyway. I wanna hear it before it hits the news.”

“It’s too bad the vigilante only killsthe pedophiles and scum.” I grin when her eyes swing back to mine. “Nathan Booth could do with silencing, don’t you think? It would make our lives more peaceful.”

“You make it sound like the vigilante is for hire.” She glances down again, making a point of studying her computer screen once more. “Personally, I’m happy to know they’ve been quiet and, ya know,notkilling anyone lately.”

“Shame. Since Booth’s existence annoys me.” I turn from the door and snag my coat and bag from the back of my chair, then dragging the first on, I walk and work on the zipper as I go. Snow drifts from the clouds outside, sticking to the sidewalk and threatening to drop me on my backside during my trek to the bar. But I step into the elevator, and out again nine floors later, only to discover when I move onto the sidewalk outside, Tim is not, in fact, waiting to walk me home.

“Bummer.” I huddle into my coat and sigh when the wind whips my hair around. But I fold my arms and wish for a hat to keep my ears warm. Gloves, for my fingers. Tim, to wrap himself around my body and press my ear over his heart. Then I start walking, as anxiety leeches into my blood and the neon sign two blocks away becomes my beacon. My buoy.

“Hey, lady?”

It doesn’t take a genius to know whoever is calling me lady in the dark isn’t coming for a friendly chat, so I quicken my steps and keep my head down. My body trembles, not only from the cold, but from what I know is trouble. But I push on. Faster. Determined.

“Hey!” Footsteps echo against the sidewalk, then a pair of strong hands grip my sleeve and yank me around. My feet leave the concrete for a beat, and my heart jumps to the base of my throat, cutting off my air and seizing my lungs. But then he tosses me toward the wall, air bursting free again and the back of my head rapping against the brick.

Black sludge and nasty vitriol spread throughout my veins, while a pair of almost black eyes stare into mine.

The desperate hunter and his prey. Helpless, and yet, not.

“My boss has been looking for your brother today, Doc.” He leans closer. Closer, until the tip of his nose almost touches mine. “Seems he’s in hiding.”

The stench of body odor and bad choices invades my senses, forcing my nose up and my face away to escape the smell, but he grabs me, digging his nails into my cheeks and forcing me back around.

“Call him. Tell him to pay up.”

“Callwho?” I shove him back, yet his six-foot-tall, two-hundred-pound body doesn’t move a single inch. “Who the hell are you?”

“Your baby brother owes us a lot of money, Doctor Dead. If he doesn’t settle up, you might be the one performing his autopsy. Consider this your one and only warning.”

Anger pounds in my blood as I grab his wrist and dig my nails in. I break skin and yank his hand from my face. “Don’t threaten my family.”

“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise that if Duane isn’t square by morning, he’ll be dead.” He shoves me against the wall again, slamming me back until bells ring in my ears. “Pass the message on, cutie. I’d hate to have to ugly up your face just to get his attention.”

My breath races in short, sharp, choking pants that sting my throat and send lances of panic scalding through my blood. But I try to focus. I look left, and then right. I search the faces of people who wander past, clueless to what just happened right in front of them. I count my thundering heartbeats and stretch my toes in my boots, searching for a way to ground myself before I crumple into an unwanted panic attack.

Calm down.

Relax. And then think.

My phone trills in my back pocket, bleating in the darkness and vibrating against my butt. So I reach around and find Tim’s name flashing on the screen. “Oh God.” My breath shudders again. Emptying my lungs and destroying the work I’d done to calm. But I swipe to answer and bring a shaking hand to my ear. “Hello?” My voice crackles, though I attempt to keep it steady. “T-Tim?”

“What’s wrong?” His tone turns deadly in an instant. “Aubree? What’s wrong, baby?”

“Um…” I sniffle and turn to continue in the direction of the bar.

“Aubree!?”

“Some guy just wanted to talk, I guess.” I swallow and nervously brush the front of my jacket down. “I don’t even know his name. He didn’t say.”

“Where are you?”

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