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A faint clanging sound in the background—like a metal door slamming shut.

“I’m in custody. Eldridge’s people.”

Leo stared at her phone. “What the hell happened?”

“They pulled me in an hour ago. Something about Transport for London. Bullshit. They’re looking for you?—”

“Gage. Are you safe?” She tugged a hand through her shorn hair.

“They’ve got me stashed away, thinking I’m contained. Kinda cute, really.” His voice cooled. “But that won’t last. They want leverage. I’m it.”

“Jesus Christ, Gage?—”

“Kat.” His tone sharpened a notch. “I’m fine. It’syouI’m worried about.”

Her voice dropped. “I’m coming for you.”

“No.” His tone hardened. “You go for Eldridge. You take her down. This entire operation is dirty. But Eldridge? She’s the root?—”

Click.

“They have my brother.” Kat stared at the dead screen and then looked up. “No one fucks with my family.”

She pocketed the phone. “I have an idea.”

34

Rain drummedagainst the windshield as they drove through the city, the hula girl on the dash swaying in time. Kat pressed her forehead to the cool side window.

Brock’s van headlights illuminated a path through the darkness as they headed southeast. Brock had insisted they take it while he remained with the stolen van, wiping it clean before heading home by bus.

Gage’s voice played on repeat in her head. Custody. Eldridge’s people. Her brother as bait in a trap. She needed to get him out.

“There’s a motel just off the next junction,” Leo said, breaking the silence that had settled between them. They’d already decided to skip returning to his apartment tonight. Too risky. “We should stop. Clean up. Regroup.”

Kat turned toward Leo, pulling herself from thoughts of Gage.

His profile was etched in dashboard light—the powerful line of his jaw, a cut above his eyebrow crusted with dried blood. Their escape from the Royal London had left marks on both of them.

“Is it safe?” The question came automatically—the operative in her always calculating risk.

“Small place. Cash only. Brock’s used it before.” Leo changed lanes, checking the mirrors.

She nodded, wincing as the movement deepened the ache in her jaw. “A shower wouldn’t hurt.”

“You said you had an idea.”

The operational part of her brain slipped back into gear. “Jane’s our best chance at exposing what’s happening under the Royal London.”

“Risky.” Worry lines creased his forehead. “She sold you out once already.”

“She was scared and being blackmailed.” Kat reached for her phone. “This time we have leverage—everything we found at the hospital. If Jane exposes it, it could force them to drop the charges against Gage. At the very least, it scrambles their timeline. Distracts them. And gives us space to figure out how Korolov and Eldridge connect.”

“And you think she’ll help?”

Her nod was firm. “Whatever else Jane is, she’s still an analyst. She follows the evidence. And we’re about to give her proof no one can ignore. Proof of research that never should’ve happened.” She held up her phone. “I’ll contact her, ask for a meeting.”

Twenty minutes later, they pulled into the gravel lot of a roadside motel. The building itself was a two-story gray nondescript box clad in peeling paint.