He’s the real piece of shit, and not just for cheating on my mother and then leaving her for a younger woman. The girl is younger thanme—something that causes no shortage of revulsion. But he was also heavily invested in Terror. And that, really, was the end of our relationship.
I park next to Tem’s car in the garage and head up.
My phone rings almost as soon as I step out of the elevator. I have a new number—not that I need to hide from anyone, really, it’s just ingrained habit. I contemplate not answering. Who would be calling? Tem’s cell is programmed in, as is Saint’s. And, grudgingly, Kade’s.
Well.
Only way to solve the mystery is to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Reese.” Antonio’s voice fills my ear. Recognizable even though my conversations with the man have been limited. “I can’t get ahold of anyone else. I need you to come back to Bow & Arrow.Hurry.”
“What’s happening?”
He makes a strangled noise. Then, “Cyclopes.”
The line goes dead.
24ARTEMIS
“Antonio called.”Saint holds up his phone.
I wriggle back into my leggings and push the thick curtain of hair out of my face. It wouldn’t beunusual, exactly, since they know each other. Antonio has been a fixture in my life, and Saint was forced to come along with me on some nights. Not saying they got close, but…
“Four times,” he adds.
I pause. “Did he leave a message?”
“Yeah.” He taps on his phone, and a minute later, Antonio’s voice plays between us.
“Saint. Antonio here. I hope you’re with Artemis. Something strange is happening in North Falls… I’d feel better if we had some extra bodies. Call me back.”
I take the phone from him and redial.
It goes straight to voicemail.
“Okay…”
I shift my weight, then look up at Saint. He didn’t have much adjusting to do—I was the one completely naked by the end of it, and he only lost his shirt and his pushed-down pants. His shirt is back on now, hiding the tattoos that decorate his chest.
Shame about that.
There’s a dragon, of course, that matched Nyx’s. The galaxy. The hourglass brand front and center. A snake, flowers, geometric lines, a skull.
“I don’t suppose you have any guns here?”
He must be worried—he doesn’t even crack a smile. Instead, he turns and disappears into the back room. I follow, still straightening my shirt. My lips are puffy from the intense kisses, my skin tingling with residual arousal.
The back room has a cot set up in the corner, with a pillow and folded blankets neatly stacked at the head of it, but the majority of the space is taken up by his desk. Where he draws, I imagine, and creates the visually stunning tattoos.
In the supply closet, he taps in a code to a tall safe against the back wall. The interior automatically lights up when it cracks open, and he removes two handguns. One for me, plus two magazines, and another for him.
“What, no rifles?”
He grimaces. “You’re not concerned?”
“I’m trying not to think about it.”
