Page 121 of Fractured Allegiance
The hallway is empty. Cold. The fluorescent light above the stairwell flickers like it's deciding whether to die tonight or wait until morning.
I take the stairs two at a time, already calculating routes to the Bureau post. Five blocks north. Fifteen minutes on foot if I cut through the industrial district. Ten if I run.
I push through the building's front door into the night air. It's colder than I expected, sharp enough to clear my head.
My car is parked half a block down, tucked between a delivery van and a sedan that's been there so long it's collecting tickets.
The walk gives me time to think. Too much time.
Naomi's warning loops in my head. Someone's been watching you.
Which means either Drazen's testing me even more, or there's another player I haven't identified yet. Either option is bad. Or it could be the person watching Lydia. It’s still bad.
I reach the car—a nondescript sedan Naomi provided but I rarely drive—and unlock it. Slide into the driver's seat.
Before I can start the engine, my phone buzzes.
Text. Unknown number.
Club. Now. Don't make me wait.
Drazen.
I stare at the screen.
Of course. Two summons in ten minutes. Naomi pulling one direction, Drazen pulling the other.
I could ignore it. Pretend I didn't see the message until later.
But Drazen doesn't summon people casually. And showing up late—or not at all—would raise exactly the kind of questions I can't afford.
Especially if someone's been tailing me and reporting back to him.
I pull up Naomi's contact and type fast.
Change of plans. Drazen summoned me. Have to go to the club first. Will check in after.
Her response comes almost immediately.
Don't do anything stupid.
I delete the messages and pocket the phone, then start the engine.
The drive takes fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of empty streets and traffic lights that seem to last too long.
I don't think about Lydia.
Or I try not to.
But her face keeps surfacing anyway—the way she looked at me when I said I had to leave. Like she knew I was lying but wasn't going to call me on it.
Not yet.
When I pull up near the club, I park two blocks away out of habit. Kill the engine.
Sit there for a moment, hands still on the wheel.
Then I get out.
