Page 152 of Sire

Irritably, I explain, “He’s here to discuss Waylon Banks and how we found Wren. How we know Sheremetev was involved.”

Axel doesn’t flinch at the name. He’s been intrigued by that intel from The Six, too. Ruby’s stealth and calm. We can trust her. My mom was also familiar with Sheremetev. We told her what The Six told us.

But her captive? Roman?

Recognition flicks across his eyes.

I clench my molars, and Mom catches it, redirecting our attention to Alan. “And how can Alan help us?”

“Maybe you knew him,” Wren speaks up, turning to him. “From when I was taken with the other girls. Did you ever hear that name?”

My Iron Angel has found her filter and an Oscar. No one has any idea the secret Wren hides for me. How she deftly protects me while getting intel and seeming so innocent about it. When really?

My Joan of Arc will start a war for me.

“Sorry, Wren,” Alan frets. “I don’t recognize the name. Truth is, I got big holes in my memory. I want to help ya, but?—”

“It’s okay.” She gets up, reaching for Alan’s hand. “I’m just glad you’re healthy now, but if there’s anything you can remember. Like I remember an accent. A Russian accent. It’ll help us.”

“Would you remember a face if I showed you?” I ask, taking my phone from my pocket.

Cade Bryant said Valentin Sheremetev hid behind diplomatic immunity. I found a picture of him—a news story—online. It’s a few years old, but I show it to Alan.

The color drains from his face. “The Warden.”

“The what?” Wren asks.

“The Warden.” Alan’s spooked eyes lock on my phone screen. “Yeah, I’ve seen him. Never knew his name, but I knew his evil.”

“His evil?” Mom sounds worried.

“Yes, ma’am.” Alan nods. “My dad said The Warden kept girls locked up, and my dad’d sell him more. Sorry, ma’am, but I think it’s true.” He turns to Wren, his eyes blinking back tears. “I’m so sorry, Wren. I never meant?—”

“It’s okay.” She wraps her arms around him. “We’re going after him. We’re getting those girls.”

Loch probes, “You got any idea where The Warden may be? Where these girls are?”

“No, sir.” Alan lets Wren go, answering, “I mean, I got the feeling they were close by, hiding in the mountains. My dad was never gone for long, though I ain’t sure. My memory and all…”

His words and chin drop.

“Alan, thank you, dear,” Mom eases. “You’ve been a big help.”

“I’ll go with you.” Alan looks up, offering to Loch, “If you need help findin’ him, holler, and I’ll go.”

Loch nods, thankful.

With another hug from Wren, Alan politely leaves us.

Sitting.

Silently.

Staring at each other.

A feeling I’ve never had before pounds through my veins.There’s another secret in this room, and it’s not mine.

Does it mean they know about me? Dear God, I hope they trust I’d never betray them. My hand on the Bible, I believe they’d never betray me.