Page 147 of Scarlet Angel

“Is Sophia okay?” Nick asks.

“She’s taking point with the authorities. We’re making arrangements to transport you once we get clearance. Any idea who these men were?”

“No,” Nick says.

I’m fairly certain he’s already told them this, but we’re all rattled. If it’s like it was with Vincent; he’ll be asked that question a thousand times more. We both shall.

“They’re not Italian,” Fisher says, holding an arm out to usher us into the warehouse.

He’s acting like we’re still at risk, but we’re surrounded by police.

“Could be bounty seekers that didn’t get the cancellation memo. I’d say it’s far more likely they’re mercenaries.”

“Hired by?” Fisher probes.

Nick doesn’t respond, seemingly lost in thought.

“It wouldn’t be the Moores, right? Dorian’s the one who canceled the bounty,” Fisher says.

“Which only means he posted it,” Nick says. “And there’s that message. If Halston’s the Prophet, why would he cancel the bounty? Unless it was to give a false sense of safety.”

“He’s your friend,” I say, sounding stupid.

“Did any of these blokes live?” Nick directs his question to Fisher.

“Ones who got away. We’ll see what we can get from their vehicles. As we ID them, we’ll get more information.”

Sophia steps into the archway and waves for Fisher to join her.

“I’ll be back,” he says and heads out into the open with the authorities.

Nick rests his chin on top of my head, holding me close against him. “Seems our little escapade dug up a few enemies, eh?”

I pull back so I can get a better look at him. I rub my hand over the side of his jaw and dig the edge of my thumb into his goatee. He grasps my wrist and places his lips against my palm.

“Churchill said that it’s good to have enemies. It means you stood up for something.”

“Is that right?”

“You’re a brave man. You don’t fear enemies.”

“No, never did. World’s richest bastard took my family, and I survived. Prospered right under his nose. But that was before you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” He’s circumspect.

“You’re afraid of losing me, is that it?”

“Terrified.”

“You don’t need to be. Your enemies are my enemies, remember? They’re the ones who need to be afraid.”

“God, I love you.”

He presses his lips hard against mine, then breaks away, holding my shoulders.

“Where shall we go? I’ve got a place in Copenhagen. If we’re leaving by ship, that’s a mite closer than Greece. I could probably scrounge up a yacht from there that’ll deliver us to Greece undetected.”

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