Page 17 of The Wayward Sons & The Vampires of Fortune
“Let’s go,” he said and stood, swiping his coffee off the table.
“I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you.”
“Unless you know some damn good facts aboutTwilight,I suggest you do,” Sam retorted. “Because that’s the only way we’re having a conversation aboutyou-know-whatin public. Let’s go.”
I glared at him as he started for the café door. I would’ve rather sat and talked about teenage vampires than go anywhere alone with him. His plan had better be a good one, or I was punching him.
CHAPTER 12
We barely made it across the parking lot before I punched him. It felt damn good, even if he was pissed off.Actually, him being pissed made me feel better.
Was it childish?
Probably.
Did I fucking care?
Nope, I didn’t.
It was the least he deserved. And that split lip of his was satisfying to look at. He was a full-bred hunter. It’d heal in less than a day anyway.
“You have a house in Phoenix?” I asked as I followed him through the door of a small house. The furniture was minimal, and the location was out of the way.
“No, but I know people,” Sam said from the other end of the house. I trailed after him and found the kitchen full of papers and a goddamn corkboard. Granted, it wasn’t the corkboard that bothered me. It was the pictures of me and Ryder scattered allover them—surveillance stills from around the country, driver’s licenses blown up, his family, and more.
“What the fuck?” I snapped. “Are you lookin’ into us? How the hell do you have all this?”
“Riley’s that damn good,” he replied.
“More like that fuckin’ invasive,” I muttered. There was way too much information on that board. I couldn’t imagine why the hell they needed it all.
“He likes to make sure all our bases are covered.”
“Yeah, because the time we got ice cream in Cleveland is important.”
“No, but the time you were in Cleveland is a part of your footprint,” Sam retorted, clearly irritated with me. “If Riley can find pictures like that, it means other people can too. Y’all aren’t all that good at staying off the grid.”
My lips quirked at the slip of his accent.All that dialect training had worked out so damn well for him.Hearing him without it was weird. He didn’t sound like him—not that I cared.
He obviously minded from how he cleared his throat and repeated himself, enunciating each word carefully.
“The two of you aren’t that good at staying off the grid,” he said.
“Yeah, well, we ain’t workin’ with some tech genius to erase every goddamn picture ever taken of us,” I told him.
“Riley already fixed that for you.”
“How?”
“Some kind of program to track and erase your footprint as you go. I don’t know. He can explain it to you if you want to know.” He sat down at the table and kicked out the chair opposite him as an invitation. “Everything we know tells us there are anywhere from six to nine vampires in the mercenary group at any given time. It fluctuates. Why? I don’t have a fucking clue, and it’s not like they’re volunteering that information.”
I made a sound, none too thrilled with anything he had to say.
“Humans are safe, but hunters aren’t,” he continued.
“I knew that. That’s the whole reason he got himself arrested.”Still hated that plan.There had to have been better options than this bullshit.
“Mhmm.” Sam nodded slowly. “But now we need to get him out while not getting ourselves killed.”
