“Warner talked about little else for the last six years.” She shrugs with a wry smile. “I heard you’re home.”
“Look, it’s been a long week, so excuse me for not feeling chatty. Tell me who you are, or I’ll have a squad of agents on your asses in seven seconds flat.”
“Seven?” Her friend frowns, appearing confused. “Bit slow. I could do all kinds of things to you in seven seconds.”
“Xander!” she hisses.
“What?” He seems utterly nonchalant. “It only takes two seconds to slit a human throat. Her backup would be useless in that situation, unless she decides to kill me first.”
I feel my brows climb to my hairline. “You think it would take me two seconds?”
“Maybe three.”
“Wow. Now I definitely want to slit your throat.”
“I’m being conservative. You appear injured.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence or there lack of,” I drawl sarcastically. “Seriously, who the fuck are you people?”
The tall, white-haired smart ass with slender limbs and frost-bitten eyes seems to catalogue every detail available to him as he spares me a bland smile.
“It’s encouraging that you don’t recognise us. At least there are some people left who haven’t seen the damn documentary.”
“I’m Ripley.” The girl steps forward, hands spread. “We’re here to see Warner. Hudson told me he’s here, but that prickly bastard slammed a classified lid down on my questions. I’m worried.”
Surprise punctures my chest. “You’re Ripley Bennet.”
“Shit.” Xander clasps the back of his neck. “She does recognise us.”
“Not you, dick.” I glower at him. “Your girlfriend.”
Ripley looks different than the vague image I remember from old news reports during Warner’s investigation. Harrowdean Manor was his defining case ten years ago. He helped dismantle a vast criminal conspiracy wrapped up in multiple psych wards across the UK, including Blackwood Institute.
“Is he okay?” Ripley wrings her hands.
“He’s fine.” I blink through another wave of dizziness. “The casualty was another agent on our secondary team. Warner’s upstairs with my brother in the ICU.”
Cursing, she tilts her gaze up to the sky for a pause. She’s relieved, I think. Warner’s relationship with Ripley has always been a bit of a mystery. He’s protective of his friend and her place in his life, rarely discussing the case once it was resolved.
“I’ll tell him to call you back,” I offer.
Xander nods, resting a hand on his girl’s shoulder. “Thanks.”
“Thank you for the throat-slicing debate. If I get it down to one second, I’ll give you a call.”
“It’s all in the wrist action.” He winks at me.
“Speaking from personal experience?”
“Are you?” Xander challenges.
Mouth closing, I shakily smile back at him.Yep. I see how they survived.The motley, fucked up family that Sabre Security seems to attract certainly doesn’t disappoint.
“I’d offer to take you upstairs, but Sabre’s got the ward locked down tight, and Warner’s asleep.” I hook a thumb over my shoulder. “I can pass the message along, though.”
“Thanks.” Ripley nods. “And I’m really sorry about your brother.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
