Page 67 of Wicked Little Nightmare

"Sounds like a party," I said, raising my glass in a mock toast. "To family reunions."

Cam's lips quirked in a humorless smile. "To destruction and madness."

Twenty-Five: Cam

Iwatched Lakey, her fingers dancing over that damn photo like it was made of glass. Her eyes, usually sharp as knives, had gone soft and dreamy. It made my skin crawl. Not in a good way either.

Was I… upset that she was attached to someone other than me? What did it mean? Why do I care so much? If that girl was indeed Lakey’s daughter, who was the father? I was in prison when all this supposedly happened, so who the fuck raped my girl?

"You gonna stare at that all day, sweetheart?" I drawled, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.

Lakey didn't even look up. "Hmm?"

Fuck. I'd seen that look before, right before she'd go on one of her little "adventures." Usually ended with me having to clean upa mess of blood and body parts. Not that I minded the gore, but we had bigger fish to fry.

I leaned in close, breathing into her ear. "Earth to Lakey. We've got a problem, remember? Big, bad Chimera breathing down our necks?"

She blinked, those baby blues finally focusing on me. "What? Oh, right. Chimera."

"Yeah, Chimera. The folks who want us dead? Ring any bells?"

Lakey's lips curled into that sweet smile that usually preceded someone's violent demise. "Don't worry, Cam. I haven't forgotten."

I wasn't buying it. "Really? 'Cause it looks like you're more interested in playing house with a picture than getting what we want."

Her eyes flashed, that familiar darkness swirling to the surface. Good. I needed her mean, not moony. She put the photo down on top of my stack of information.

"I can multitask," she purred, running a finger down my chest. "Or don't you trust me?"

I caught her wrist, my grip just shy of bruising. "Trust isn't the issue, darlin'. Focus is. And right now, you're about as focused as a kitten with a laser pointer."

Lakey's laugh was sharp enough to cut glass. "Oh, Cam. Always so dramatic. Fine, you have my undivided attention. What was so damn pressing I needed to drop everything to hear?"

I released her, fighting the urge to snatch that photo and rip it to shreds.One battle at a time, I reminded myself. First Chimera, then I'd deal with Lakey's growing obsession. It made me feel weird.

"The plan," I said, forcing a grin, "is to head to the orphanage about half an hour out from here and see what’s there. Might have deets on who the fuck Chimera is."

Lakey's eyes lit up with that familiar bloodlust. "Now you're speaking my language."

I relaxed a fraction. This was the Lakey I knew, the one I could work with. As long as I kept her distracted, kept her focused on the hunt, maybe I could keep her from spiraling down whatever rabbit hole that photo represented. Why did she even care if she had a daughter? Sure, we’d wanted to have a kid, but OUR kid. Not one by some asshole who raped her. Fuck. This was starting to eat away at me, and unleashing my inner demons was never a good thing.

I’d long learned how to keep ‘em locked tight in a box and only let them out under controlled circumstances. It’s how I kept us safe.

But as her gaze drifted back to the picture, a cold dread settled in my gut. She’d never stop because if there was anything ingrained in Lakes, it was that deep seated drive to do whatever her beautiful, black heart had gotten set on.

I leaned back, drumming my fingers on the laptop balanced precariously on my knee. "Speaking of languages, I've been decoding some of Skeeter's files. Turns out our favorite techno-weasel had quite the treasure trove of dirt. I’m not just talking about operative names… places too. So much shit in here and he played the part of a good village idiot. I’m impressed. I almost miss the guy."

Lakey's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "Spill it, Axley. What'd you find?"

I savored the moment, watching her squirm. It was rare to have information she didn't, and I'd be damned if I didn't milk it for all it was worth. "Oh, just a little connection between that orphanage we’re gonna go see and a certain nunnery we both know and loathe."

"Bullshit," Lakey breathed, but I could see the wheels turning behind those baby blues.

"Cross my innocent lil’ heart, sugar," I drawled, tapping my chest where her name was inked. "Seems Sister Sadist and her merry band of psychos had their fingers in more pies than we thought. Skeets wasn’t lying when he said they were everywhere. I’ve connected them through a list of places. Some are close to us. Many are dotted all around the states. We can’t hit those up, but we can do whatever is closest. Orphanages, social work offices. There’s even a cop shop on there. But my all-time favorite, is that giant Catholic church that sits atop that mountain as you drive into town. Head office, it appears."

Lakey was on her feet in an instant, the photo forgotten as she stalked towards me. "Show me," she demanded, her voice a dangerous whisper.

I turned the screen, revealing a web of connections that would make a conspiracy theorist cream their pants. Lakey's eyes devoured the information, her lips moving silently as she pieced it all together. Seems St. Agnes had been quite busy, but they all pointed to that specific nunnery as ground zero.Makes sense why they burnt it down.

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