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“Olivia and Maria are still asleep. Drew and Shae appear to be unharmed.” Alana’s voice grows icy as my stomach drops. “Ian got a little roughed up, and Uri’s seen better days. But everyone’s alive, safe, and secure.”

Ian’s hurt? Dimitri’s face is a mix of rage, guilt, and a dash of sickness.

“I like your pretty dress.” A tiny voice comes through the speaker—a young girl.

“Thank you, Shae.”

“Aunt Alana, can we get ice cream?” A young boy with a lingering Russian accent. Ian.

“Kiddo, there’s ice cream in the center console,” she responds.

She stopped off for ice cream before rescuing the kids. Who is this woman?

Alana continues, “Meet me at home base. I’m calling Waverly and Izzy.”

Donny lifts his head. “Wait, why are you calling Waverly?” A new level of panic replaces his otherwise constant state of fear.

But his question goes unanswered because Alana’s already talking to someone else. “Penny, do you have your laptop?”

She grins like she has the Library of Alexandria’s worth of secret knowledge. “Of course.”

“Excellent. See you soon.” The phone line goes dead.

Penny stands, smooths her suit jacket and her pants, and moves with delicate precision toward the door.

Donny reaches across the table toward her. “You didn’t answer my question.”

From under the table, there’s a growl, and several sharp, quick barks. Dogs? Who brought dogs?

Donny pulls his arm back and folds his hands in his lap. “Why was Waverly called?”

Penny picks up her bag—a slim, refined messenger bag that looks elegant, albeit used. She tilts her head like she’s a parrot trying to repeat a new phrase. “Months ago, she went to the Four Families for help. They turned her down. Waverly came to Alana and me instead.” She hitches her bag onto her shoulder. “This whole day would’ve gone differently if your family”—she tilts her head in our direction—“and the Agencies had done what they should’ve done years ago.”

She starts the procession of everyone filing out of the conference room. Duncan McLeod nudges Dimitri. “You gotta stop losing your kid.” I think he’s joking, but I can’t tell.

“I’m not losing him. Other people keep taking him,” Dimitri answers darkly, but with an undercurrent of laughter.

I make a note to follow up on how many times Ian has been abducted. “He must be a remarkable kid.”

A proud smile grows on his face. “He is.” A frown replaces the smile. “Uri is not. He’s just a chronic pain in my ass.”

Dimitri and I are sandwiched between Duncan and Marshall as we walk out the door. My pinky finger brushes against his knuckle. While this is the worst day, at least he’s not alone. At least he’s built himself a support system. “It looks like this waking nightmare might almost be over.”

He peers over at me, expressionless, because he’s fighting every emotion at once. “One can only hope.”

Chapter

Forty

Dimitri

We walk into the Mastodon lobby like a team of warriors minutes into battle, knowing reinforcements are on the way if need be. There’s one desk in the center of the room, and two women sit behind it.

Waverly is biting on a pen, her hair pulled off her face in a ponytail and her attention glued to a screen. She pulls out a chair next to her without taking her eyes off the computer. Penny pushes her way forward and takes her place next to Waverly.

Penny smiles at Alana who is at the far end of the reception desk. “Oh, your dress IS cute. It’s one of those corset ones.” Waverly shoots Penny a side glance and a warning, which goes unnoticed. “My algorithm got you, didn’t it?” the heiress continues. “It’s super cute on you. I like the polka dots.”

Even in the echoes of the lobby, Alana’s voice rings out, “Those aren’t polka dots.”