Page 69 of The Wild Charge

Eden bit back a retort. So much for privacy. Then again, she supposed this family she was now permanently linked to shouldn’t be expected to behave within the bounds of polite discretion – not about some things, anyway. “Ah,” she said, instead, the best she could do.

In the driver’s seat, Axelle was shifting through a comical series of surprised and outraged expressions on her behalf.What the hell?she mouthed.

Raven grinned, a sharp, white flash of teeth that opened like a knife wound, and which brought her resemblance to Charlie to the forefront. Tenny, too, she supposed: those three were the most glamorous of the bunch, when they wanted to be. The most dangerous, too. “‘Ah,’ she says. Sorry, love, but news travels fast.”

“I see that,” Eden deadpanned.

Raven laughed. “I’d offer my congratulations, but I wonder if condolences are more in order, given that it’s Charlie’s. Anyway,” she pressed on, before Eden could respond tothat, “I’m very happy for you. Expect a large parcel in the post when it’s time.

“The reason I’m calling, though, is to let you know that I’ll be in town tomorrow.”

Eden felt her brows fly up. “As in Knoxville? Tomorrow?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Raven said, smoothly, as if that wasn’t an absolute bombshell. “Cassandra’s landed a spot in this apparently rather prestigious visual arts clinic in New York, and since we’ll be in the States for that anyway next week, she’s absolutely adamant about seeing King’s farm and visiting with all of you over there.”

Axelle was gesturing from behind the wheel, trying to get her attention, but Eden felt frozen in her seat, surprise warring with dread. “Okay,” she said, woodenly.

“Okay, right then,” Raven breezed along. “Sorry it’s such short notice, but don’t you worry, Mummy, I’ll have King pick us up at the airport and clear a space for us at that mansion of his, and you won’t have to lift a finger.”

“Raven. It’s not that no one wants to see you – or Cassie – but it’s…not the best time around here.”

Raven waved her off. “Oh, darling, I know how this club business works. It’s never a good time. If I waited for anyone wearing a patch to give me permission to do something, I’d do nothing but sit on my arse all day.”

“But–”

“Gotta run, but we’ll see you tomorrow night.” Raven blew her a kiss, and the call disconnected.

Eden stared at her phone screen until it went black.

“What the fuck?” Axelle asked.

“Uh…” a crackly voice said from the drive-through speaker, in front of which they now sat. “We don’t have any fucks? Only tacos?”

“Shit, sorry. Oops, um, lemme get…”

Eden spaced out for a little while, trying to decide why in the world Raven thought now was a good time to visit. Something had seemed…offabout her. Admittedly, they’d never been close, but Raven was, at heart, a rather vicious, straightforward sort, and just now, it felt like she’d been presented with Raven the Model and Talent Agent, rather than Raven, Charlie’s Ruthless Sister. There had been an air of brisk disconnect there. Almost as if…

With a lurch, Eden’s years as a government agent rushed to the forefront. To anyone listening in or watching, she would have seemed shallow, and fly-off-the-handle.

But in the world of the Lean Dogs, and all their enemies, she’d acted like someone who knew she was being watched.

A warm paper bag landed in her lap, and the scent wafting up from it nearly made her gag.

“What are you thinking?” Axelle asked, astute as ever – even in the way she nicked the bag away and set it in the backseat.

“Not here.” Eden shook her head. “I want to wait until we’re at the clubhouse.” And after they’d swept for bugs.

~*~

Tenny found himself a man torn. He’d been patched in – early, at that – which conveyed some level of trust from his betters (and, God, what a horrid thing to consider people like Ghost Teague; his better; shudder at the thought). But, like it or not, the Dogs didn’t patch those they felt didn’t fit in some way. So he’d been accepted. And, so far, he’d not been wasted on floor-mopping, or collecting money from dealers, or any such menial tasks best left to the Deacons and Boomers of the crew. Even if they paled in the face of his former work, he was sent on more important errands, very nearly ops. That appealed to his ego; if Ghost had sent him after groceries, he would have snapped at the man.

But the second edge of that sword cut a different way. Because between the Important Tasks, like invading night clubs and forcing Luis to talk, there was…nothing. Loose ends.Be back here at such-and-such o’clock,and he was neither wanted nor needed during the hours in between.

This was, in fact,fine. It wasgood. He didn’t want Walsh to pour him a drink at the bar, or shoot pool with Boomer and the idiots; didn’t want Aidan to ask if he felt like going out to that ridiculous UT-themed restaurant with the tolerable hot wings. He wasn’tfriendswith any of them.

He trained. He trained quite a lot. But the days were still padded with extra hours, and, until the fiasco in London, he’d never been someone with free time to enjoy. Or, at least tolerate.

Luis did as told, went back in the trailer, and then it was a matter of waiting until the op – which wasn’t until tomorrow night.

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