Page 116 of Sacrifice

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"Even the dogs?"

"Especially the dogs. Did you see how they positioned themselves? Natural protection instincts."

"Is that why you're already planning their Halloween costumes?"

"I'm going to password protect my browser history."

"Too late. I already saw the bookmark for 'tactical dog harnesses.'"

"Those areactuallytactical!"

My phone buzzes.

Magnus again.

Magnus:

Need you at the clubhouse. Got intel on the new crew.

Me:

How urgent?

Magnus:

Scale of 1-10? About an 8.

Fuck.

"I need to go to the clubhouse," I tell the women. "Club business."

"The new crew?" Saga asks, too perceptive.

"Yeah. Magnus has intel."

"We'll come?—"

"No. You'll stay here with the dogs. Get settled." I stand, checking weapons automatically. "Arm the system when I leave. Don't open the door for anyone except me or someone you know personally."

"Emil—"

"Saga. Please." I cup her face. "I need to know you're safe while I handle this."

She wants to argue but nods. "Be careful."

"Always."

"Liar." She kisses me hard. "Come back to me."

"Always," I repeat, and this time I mean it.

I leave them there—my woman, her best friend, our three bears of dogs.

The domestic scene I never thought I'd want but now can't imagine losing.

The ride to the clubhouse is tense.

Every car could be surveillance.

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