Page 247 of Golden Eagle

He was hedging around the issue on purpose.

“What happens with Nikita and the others realize my dad’s the one who was keeping Sasha locked up?”

“Probably the same thing I thought when I learned you were the daughter of the man keeping me locked up: that you aren’t your father. That his sins aren’t yours,” he fired back, gently.

“But he’s–”

“It’s my uncle who’s causing all of this mess. Does that make it my fault?”

“No.”

“So you see my logic.”

“I want to go with Trina.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“Tonight, the plan – you said I would be ‘by your side,’ even though I know you wish I’d stay behind in the hotel.”

He squirmed, guilty.

“You guys know vampires, and you know wolves, and you know fighting. I won’t be any use there, dealing with Gustav; I’ll just slow you down. But I know my dad. Let me go with Trina and deal with Dr. Fowler. That’s a way I can be useful.”

“Darling.” He stroked her face. “No one’s asking you to be ‘useful.’”

“I’m asking it of myself.”

He searched her face a moment, gaze tracking back and forth. “It will be dangerous.”

“Trina’s going. I’m not more important than her.”

He smiled, almost sadly. “You are to me.”

The simple words put a lump in her throat. “I can do this.”

“I’ve no doubt that you can.”

~*~

They found Harvey in her office at the morgue, forehead in her hand, eyes closed, autopsy report half-finished in front of her. She still liked to fill out the forms by hand, she’d said, once; she liked doing it the old-fashioned way.

Trina leaned over the desk and clicked off the tape recorder that was unspooling the ME’s notes aloud, the recording she’d made while she was up to her elbows with blood, and Harvey jerked awake with an inelegant snort.

“I’m awake, I’m awake,” she said like a mantra.

“You’ve got a green Skittle stuck to your face,” Lanny observed helpfully.

“Ah, shit.” Harvey plucked it off with a grimace, studied it, and flicked it into the trash can. Trina wondered if, had she been alone, she would have eaten it. “What is it this time?” She sounded more tired than unhappy to see them, though Trina figured they weren’t a welcome sight, given the recent nature of their DBs.

“We just went to see Captain Abbot,” Trina said.

Harvey’s brows lifted, and she grew instantly more alert. “They cleared you of the shoot?”

“Not exactly. We pretty much just tanked our careers.”

She swapped a look between them. “Um. What?”

“There’s something we have to do tonight,” Trina said, pressing forward. They’d decided that the less Harvey knew about the gritty details, the safer and better off she’d be. “And you can say no – don’t feel pressured. But if you’re willing to do something for us, it would be a huge help.”