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“No.”

“But it’s about Arthur.”

Arthur gave him a look that suggested he’d had enough of Jack’s shit. “I think I’ll pass, Mister Steele.”

Jack lowered his hand and cursed under his breath. “You guys are no fun.”

Everyone glanced at each other as they continued on with different tasks, waiting to see if anyone spoke up.

Arthur said, “It’s more a request than a question, but I might need the blueprints for those missiles.”

“Whatever you need, we’ll help you get it,” Darien vowed. “Just tell us where and when.”

“Lucent Enterprises. But we’ll need Roark for that one.”

“I’ll talk to him when I see him tomorrow.” He took another bite and scanned the room as he chewed. Swallowed and said, “Any other questions?”

Nobody said anything. That settled it, then.

He washed his food down with water before facing Tanner. “Do everything you can to get communications back up, or this isn’t going to work.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Figuring out where the others were was the first step, and to do that they had to get a hold of them. If they were still trapped in Yveswich…

He hoped his plan to bust them the hell out of there would work.

Later that evening,Loren lay awake by herself in her bedroom at Heaven’s Gate. Missing Darien, wherever he was. He was probably still busy tracking—which was exactly what she wanted him to take a break from.

About an hour ago, Ivy had left the house with Jack, Lace, and Kylar. They had split into two groups and hit the streets in search of answers regarding Mortifer and the men who’d broken into Hell’s Gate—and where they might find some of them. Arthur and Eugene were asleep, and Tanner was working on getting telecommunications up and running in Yveswich. He would likely be at it all night.

Suddenly, her bedroom door opened.

She sat up, squinting to see in the moonlit room. Was it Darien? Her heart started to pound?—

But it wasn’t Darien. It was Bandit. He stood in the doorway, his eyes glowing like red fireflies. His rubber chicken toy was in his mouth.

“Bandit?” she whispered. “What are you doing in here?”

He took her question for an invitation to come inside, paws padding across the floor.‘I bring a peace offering.’

Her brows went up. “A peace offering?”

He came closer and opened his mouth. The chicken plopped onto the floor with a squeak.

“You’re giving me Cluckles?”

He sat down.‘If I do, will you stop being angry with us?’

“Oh, Bandit,” she said with a soft laugh. Bandit must not have gotten the memo; she wondered what it was like for other people and their Familiars. How the mental bond worked.

Bandit licked his chops.‘Please. Take the chicken.’He nudged it closer with his nose.‘We cannot handle another day of Darien’s sour mood.’

“We?” she echoed.

‘Me and Cluckles, of course.’

She tried her darn best not to laugh, but it was so hard when he was this serious about the chicken. “Oh. You don’t have to give me your chicken, though, Bandit. Really.”