Page 21 of Lost Kingdom

“He’s there right now?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“How deep?”

“About ten grand for this morning. I have a man inside the bar right nowto keep an eye on things. But our sub isn’t leaving, no matter the threats coming from Sarge’s people.”

“Is he drinking?”

“Yes, Boss. He’s three beers in and feeling a little friendly.”

“Alright.” I bring my free hand up and scrub my fingers through my hair, thankful, at least, that Aubree is right here where I am. And most importantly, protected. “Booth?”

“Looking for his money, but he’s letting Sarge deal with it for now. But there are whispers…” He silences for a beat. Tension and fear, bubbling in the space between us until finally, he murmurs, “Doctor Emeri’s name has come up.”

I squeeze the device in my hand and hear the tiniest crackling as its components inside protest their new, tighter confines.

“I’m observing the situation, Boss. I’ll let you know if the threat becomes imminent.”

“Thanks. Get him out of the club and put him inside his apartment. Stand on the door if you have to. He’s not to leave. Not to accept visitors. And if he’s too fuckin’ comfortable with that, cut his internet so he’s not racking up more debt online.”

“You want me to imprison a man who?—”

“Yes. I do. Give him time to think about his decisions. Because if he doesn’t smarten the fuck up, Booth is gonna get noisy. If Booth steps in, we’re going to war. Not just for me, or for Aubree, but Felix, too. And Archer. And Cato and Micah. It’ll be a family reunion wrapped in bloodshed. I’m out of that world, but I’ll step in for her. Make it so I don’t have to.”

“Got it.” He hangs up without saying goodbye, knowing what to do. Which means I can relax—for now—and turn to the building’s front door once more and head back upstairs.

“Mom…” Aubree’s voice drips with exasperation. “I told you; I’ve got it under control. I don’t?—”

Curious, I broach the dead lady’s front door and step into the apartment to find Aubree pacing the living room. She’s limited in how far she can walk. Restricted in how freely she can move. This whole fucking apartment stinks of death, but Aubree Emeri provides relief from the dark. Energy where there is none other.

“I know it’s Eli’s big day, Mom! I’m not ruining anything.” She turns when she reaches the the end of free space, her hair flying and her eyes swinging to mine when she realizes she has an audience. “Uh…”

“Continue.” I step back and lean against the door frame, crossing one ankle over the other and sinking my hands into my pockets. “Your rage is pretty, by the way.”

Her lips curl, not with a smile, but a snarl that would have her tearing my throat out if she could. “It’s no one, Mom! He’s someone I work with… No, he didn’t say I waspretty! He saidprivy. As in, confidential information, considering I’m on a death scene right now.”

She listens to whatever her mom has to say, vibrating with anger when all I do is chuckle. Then she brings her head up, sharp as a whip and growls. “My transport van is here, which means I have to get back to work. I’ll call you later to discuss this… Yes,” she responds to something the woman says. “I love you too. Tell Daddy I said hey, and that I’ll see him tomorrow night at dinner.”

I push away from the wall while her mother speaks, her garbled words a sound I hear, but not able to make out.

“Okay. Bye.” Aubree drags the phone from her ear and glares up at me. Her volcanic rage, cute, when she wants so badly for it to be terrifying. “Don’t even ask.” She whirls on her heels and attempts to exit the living room, but I grab her arm, squeezing her too-thin bicep and holding on when the rest of her body tries to escape. Her feet leave the ground for a single second. Her hair, swishing with the effect of mystop. Then she looks up at me again, her nostrils flaring. “Let me go.”

“Don’t think I will.” I jerk her back until her shoulder nestles by my heart and her breath hits my tongue. “Your mom giving you a hard time?”

“I said not to ask.”

“You say a lot of things, often. But then I remember that I’m an independent, single man, and I don’t have to listen to you.”

I flash a grin, tossing her words back in her face, and then I’m rewarded with the molten lava of her eyes.

“If someone is bothering you, I wanna know about it.”

“It’s my mother. Not a friggin’ mafia empire. They’re not the same kinds ofbother.” She rolls her eyes when I drop my hand, turning and stalking back to the room her dead body is in. “Get off my death scene, Timothy. You risk everyone’s jobs by being here.”

I follow her—I’ll always follow—and stop at the door to find Fletch, a little green around the edges, setting towels out on the bed in preparation to lift.

I spy Officer Clay, whose eyes are glassy from the stench and his lips arewhite… from the nausea, probably. Then I look at Aubree, completely in control of herself, and smile.

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