Читать книгу The Wicked City - Megan Morgan - Страница 10

“Sam?” Cindy said.

The man—Sam Haain, apparently—had a square jaw, a heavy menacing brow, straight black hair past his shoulders, and dark eyes. He was tanned and appeared perhaps not entirely Caucasian. He wore a black pea coat and a maroon scarf. The woman was narrow-faced and pale and had short platinum blond hair. She was wrapped in a fuzzy white coat and looked like a little snowball. She seemed a gentle light next to the man’s brooding darkness.

The sight of them was unaccountably unnerving—two lonely, strange figures pressed against the backdrop of the gray, blank world around them.

“Finally.” Sam gave an exaggerated shiver. “I’m freezing my cock off out here.”

June didn’t detect an accent, but he sounded overfull of testosterone.

“We didn’t have to meet here, you know,” Cindy said. “This is June Coffin, Sam. And that’s Micha Bellevue.”

“The activist.” Sam gave Micha a once-over, thick lips pulled in a grimace. He then jerked his head toward the little white girl. “My bodyguard,” he said, without a hint of irony. “Muse Sagan.”

Muse stared at June with her wide silvery eyes, irises washed out like the winter sky. She had a facial tick, the corner of her mouth jerking.

“She’s good.” Muse nodded. Her voice was breathy and scratchy.

“What?” June asked, a little creeped out.

“She’s a telepath,” Cindy said. “We had Robbie check her out already, Sam. I wouldn’t have brought her here without having her scanned first.”

June turned on Cindy. “You—”

“We had to make sure your story was legit!”

Sam focused on June, his eyes hard and appraising. “Welcome to Hell, Siren. Aural captivator, whatever it is the normals call you.”

“My name is June.”

“I know what your name is.” He stepped forward. “June Coffin. Is that your real name?”

She clenched her jaw. She got tired of people’s reactions to her name.

“Yes, it’s my real name. My brother is the actor. Your ‘bodyguard’ should have already known that.”

“Your brother. Cindy tells me he’s in the Institute’s slimy grip.”

“He is.”

“What’s going on at the Institute is incredibly complex, Siren. You’ve gotten yourself mixed up in a much bigger and more convoluted game than you could ever imagine.”

“I don’t give a damn. My brother is being held prisoner there. I want to know how to get him out. Whatever else is going on isn’t my problem.”

“But it is mine.” Sam drew his hands from his coat pockets. They were swaddled in thick, knitted gloves, the same color as his scarf.

June wanted to steal them.

“Last I heard, you were at the Institute with your brother. Yet here you are.” Sam turned his attention to Micha. “And here you are, though I heard you disappeared.”

“I busted out four days ago,” June said. “Unfortunately, Jason was caught trying to escape with me.”

“And they…killed my wife,” Micha said. “That’s what I’m told, anyway.”

Muse cleared her throat, a disgustingly wet, unladylike sound. The corner of her mouth still twitched.

“His mind is all messed up.” Muse sounded like an eighty-year-old woman who had been smoking two packs a day for fifty years. “What happened to you?” she demanded of Micha.

“I happened to him,” June said.

Muse flashed her gaze to June.

“I would love to see the Institute blown up,” Sam said. “I would even provide the dynamite. I’ve never let them put their filthy hands on me. Why would you let them touch you or your brother? Maybe you got what you deserved, Siren.”

“June.” She gritted her teeth. “And a lot of persuasion and a boatload of money was involved. I didn’t come here to justify anything to you. I need to get my brother out of the Institute, and they said you could help.”

“Oh, really? Because I can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Much as I would like to rip the Institute apart piece by little piece, I don’t have any power over them. At least not right now. I certainly can’t just walk in their doors and get him out for you.”

“What are we doing here then?” She snarled at Cindy. “Why did you say he could help?”

“Sam,” Cindy pleaded. “I know you might not be able to do anything directly, but maybe you know someone who can. Surely if you agreed to this meeting you had something in mind.”

“Do you know how many sad-eyed, beleaguered fools come begging for my help per day?” Sam asked. “Why should I help this yapping little pipsqueak? She got herself in this mess.”

June lost her composure. “I will kick your ass, I swear to God. All the shit I’ve been through the past few days, I don’t need anyone else’s bullshit, certainly not some swaggering asshole I don’t even know! I will stab you in the face if you say one more—”

Muse cleared her throat. “She doesn’t have a knife, Sam.”

“You.” June pointed at her. “You, I will pick up and throw over that railing.”

Sam grabbed June’s finger with his gloved hand, looking her in the eye. He was quite a bit taller than she, but then, everyone was. He leaned in close, and she caught a faint whiff of understated musky cologne on the cold wind.

“You passed the first test.” Sam let go of her finger.

June stared at him.

“I don’t help those who can’t help themselves,” he said. “Come to my door whimpering and crying, I will kick you like a stray dog. Come ready to fight, we can do business.”

June closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them. “Great. Now can we—”

“Do you know what this is?” Sam flung his arms out. “All of this?”

He spun in a circle, scarf dangling, his hair moving in the wind. Muse watched him placidly. Cindy watched him too, hands clasped and eyes wide.

“Uh,” June said.

Sam turned back to them, arms still extended. “Do. You. Know. What. This. Is?”

June looked around, figuring she had to either entertain the madman or remain on the pier forever, encased in a block of ice. “A lake?”

“It’s my world.” Sam darted forward and got right in her face.

June took a step back, eyes wide.

“This is…” Sam turned slowly to Micha. “Our world. It belongs to the paranormal, it always has, and it always will.”

Micha clenched his jaw.

“The Paranormal Alliance will own this city when the Institute is finally in ashes.” Sam lowered his arms. “I will gladly do anything to help undermine them and lead them to their inevitable fiery end. So if you aren’t a blithering child, if you’re willing to fight the fight, then yes, I will help you, but”—he held up a finger—“there will be a price. You will owe me something.”

June shifted. “I—they took my wallet at the Institute. But when I get back to California…”

Sam chuckled and pushed a gloved hand through his hair, which was healthy-looking and thick. He was handsome; she finally had the mindset to notice.

“I don’t want money,” Sam said. “I don’t need money.”

“What do you want, then?”

“I’ll tell you, when the time comes. You have more tests to pass.”

June scowled. “I’m not jumping through any hoops for you.”

“Oh yes, you are.” He clapped his gloved hands together. “We need to leave here. Go somewhere warmer. And less public.”

“We could have been somewhere warmer and less public to begin with.” June huffed, jerking her jacket around her.

“He needed to be able to escape.” Micha turned around next to her shoulder and sang softly, “Para-noia.”

June’s suspicion had been growing since Sam first spoke. The dude was insane. Yet her only hope currently rested on him.

Sam demanded they ferry him in Cindy’s car, though he wouldn’t say where they were going. Muse sat in the front seat between Cindy and Robbie and Sam in the back, Micha in the middle. Micha’s knee rested against June’s leg. He smelled like the frigid air of the pier, and his hair was tousled from the wind. Micha caught her eye and smiled, coyly. She shifted and tugged her jacket across her body. They were all silent as Cindy drove down Michigan Avenue per Sam’s instructions.

“Here.” Sam pointed.

Cindy pulled the car up in front of one of the many towering buildings on the street and slid into a valet area.

“We’re already taking a huge risk being out like this,” Cindy said. “Can’t we go back to my place?”

“We’ll be safe here,” Sam said. “This is our territory, and you know the rules.”

June didn’t know the rules, but she figured they might be in Sam’s head anyway, for some game he played with himself.

“Muse.” Sam poked her shoulder. “I want you and Robbie to take the car and go on patrol. Make sure no one’s been watching us. Don’t come back until I call you.”

“This is my car!” Cindy protested.

“You’re a member of this organization,” Sam said. “That means this is my car.”

“The Communist manifesto of the Paranormal Alliance,” Micha muttered under his breath.

June opened the door. Sam, Micha, and June got out. Cindy got out as well, practically snarling, and Robbie got out and went around the car to the driver’s side. The valet attendants sprang forward but withdrew when Sam raised a hand.

June looked up. The building had a glass façade that reflected the sky. Despite the building’s height, a skyscraper and an ebony obelisk nearby dwarfed the structure. In Chicago, no matter how impressive something appeared, something else was right next door to one-up it like a competitive asshole sibling.

She turned. Muse was inside the car and Robbie outside the driver’s side window, the two exchanging a round of sign language. Sam caught June’s eye.

“Their powers cancel each other out. He can’t read her mind.”

“Isn’t she lucky?”

“You know, you can build defenses against telepaths. I only allow them to see as much as I want of my own mind. But it takes discipline and vigilance.”

“I’ll have to fit some lessons into my busy schedule.”

The entryway of the building glowed. A red rug lay out to guide them to a set of doors. A doorman opened one with a flourish.

“Welcome back, Mr. Haain.”

“Harry.” Sam nodded.

Inside, they faced a bank of elevators.

“We’re going to the twelfth floor,” Sam said. “To the lobby, and then up to a room I have here. Beyond these doors, you are guaranteed safety at all times.” He eyed Micha. “Even you.”

“The lobby’s on the twelfth floor?” June asked. “You know it’s a fancy hotel when you have to go up to get in.”

The elevator sported a marble floor and a chandelier, the light reflected all around in mirrored walls. They could pay for the bulbs by selling sunglasses to passengers before they got on. The operator largely ignored their presence, aside for some small talk with Sam.

The ridiculous elevator proved only a taste, as the lobby took first prize for most overblown room of the century—more extravagant chandeliers, furniture suited for royalty, and gleaming tile floors. A single lamp probably cost more than every inch of ink on June’s body. She expected to see the Queen lounging in one of the chairs, possibly being fed grapes.

A fountain rose in the middle of the room, with an elegant sculpture of several great bronze birds taking flight above the gushing water.

“Nice place,” Micha murmured.

They strode across the lobby toward another bank of elevators.

“I should bring Rose here for our anniversary,” he said.

June stopped in her tracks. “What?”

Micha nearly fell over her. The rest of them stopped and June gaped at Micha.

“You just mentioned Rose,” Cindy said.

“I did?”

“Is your memory coming back?” June panicked. This wasn’t a good time for Micha to remember his dead wife and proceed into a meltdown.

“I don't—” Micha scratched at his scalp. “I don’t even know what I just said. What…was it?”

“You said you should bring Rose here for your anniversary,” Cindy said.

“Oh.” Micha furrowed his brow. “I thought you said she was dead?”

“Hello!” Sam called out, drawing their attention. He stood a few feet away and gestured dramatically toward the elevators.

In the second elevator, as opulent as the first, June stole furtive glances at Micha. He was frowning, brows drawn down, staring at the floor. How would he react when he realized he would have no more anniversaries? Her guilt warred with the urge to hold and comfort him, to dry his inevitable tears and provide all the sex he would otherwise be deprived of with his wife gone.

I really am a crass bitch. She scowled at her reflection in the mirrored wall.

After exiting the elevator, Sam led them down a hallway to a door at the end and unlocked it with a key card. The room was as overstated as the rest of the hotel.

Tiffany lamps, jewel-toned sofas, and cream-colored carpet filled the space, the décor bright, sophisticated, and chic. A wall of windows looked out on a spectacular view of the lake, the sky monochrome and thick with clouds above the dark water.

“Holy shit,” Cindy said. “Sam, is this what you’ve been doing with all the fundraising money?”

Sam pulled off his scarf. “Sit your ass down. I’ll have some food sent up.” He pointed to the sofas.

The three sat down, June and Micha on one, Cindy on another across from them. June swiveled.

“Fancy digs here,” June remarked. “Oh look, there’s even a bar.”

Sam took his coat and gloves off and tossed them in a chair. June arched an eyebrow, unable to stop herself.

Sam wore a dark green V-neck sweater and a pair of jeans, both formfitting, on a form worth showing off. He was broad and muscled and had nice hips and long legs. She was torn. She liked tall, light-haired, blue-eyed, goofy men. Oh, to hell with that. She liked men. And lately, she’d been suffering from a distinct lack of them in her life. Maybe that was why she was making such poor decisions.

“I know you have terribly important things to talk about, June,” Sam said. “But first we need to understand each other. That’s why I brought you here, so we can talk and understand. But first, what do you like to drink?”

June wanted a beer.

Her choice arrived in a dark green bottle, a goblet with a gold rim provided to drink it from. Sam also ordered coffee and tea. June had no qualms about drinking from the fancy glass while they sipped from their little teacups. Cindy had a whiskey on the rocks. June appreciated a woman who actively, unabashedly cultivated her alcoholism, grating as Cindy could otherwise be.

Sam also ordered an array of snack food, and June was glad to partake, as she hadn’t eaten anything since Cindy ordered Chinese takeout the night before. She had to be careful what she put in her mouth, though. She had an assortment of annoying and ever-growing food allergies. Not the kind trendy people used to annoy waiters in restaurants, real ones that could be debilitating and miserable. She knew which beers were gluten-free, too.

“You have a ridiculous amount of tattoos.” Sam sat down across from her, on the sofa with Cindy.

June had taken off her jacket and was wearing a short-sleeved scoop neck T-shirt. She extended her arms, like she had for Micha, goblet clutched in her left hand. Myriad artwork curled around her biceps and flowed down her forearms. The right arm held more.

“Chaos on my right. I did a lot of them myself. I’m ambidextrous, but I’m better with my left hand.”

She hadn’t done all of them herself. The one on the underside of her right arm, a black-and-white portrait of a little girl, had been done by her friend and the co-owner of her shop, Diego.

Cindy smirked. “Apparently some people think having a bunch of tattoos makes you a lesbian, so I hear.”

June picked up the cap from her beer bottle and threw it at Cindy. She flinched out of the way and chuckled as it just missed her head.

Sam sat his cup on the table beside him and gazed at June. She took a drink from her goblet.

“Tell me what happened at the Institute,” Sam said.

June lowered the goblet. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“It’s a non-smoking room.”

“That’s not what I asked.” The pesky smoke detector was on the other side of the room, above the wet bar. Far enough. She delved into the pocket of her jacket that she’d draped over the arm of the sofa.

“By all means,” Sam said, “do whatever the hell you want.”

“Thanks.”

She lit up and took a long, delicious drag. She blew the smoke out the corner of her mouth, away from Micha. She needed something to brace her nerves before she hashed over the story again. She’d had to tell the whole sordid tale to Cindy the night they met.

“When we first got to the Institute, we were in a pretty bad mood.” June grabbed her empty bottle. “I’d let our secret slip. Jason was pissed, and I was pretty pissed off myself. But Jason always wanted to visit Chicago, so he was trying to make the best of it. And they were really cool to us, at first. Gave us a nice room, TV, all that crap, even if it was a bit like a hospital. Good food, even. They were nice enough to have special stuff made up for me since I’m allergic to half the food on the planet.”

Micha raised his eyebrows. “Food allergies?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda ridiculous. I have to watch myself. I don’t make a huge deal out of it, though. I can usually find something. And you know, it makes me healthier. I can’t eat a lot of junk.”

“But you smoke like a chimney,” Cindy said. “Very conscious of your health.”

June held up the cigarette perched between her index and middle fingers. “I’m not allergic to cigarettes.”

Sam continued staring at June like he intended to use his gaze to burn a hole through her chest.

“Anyway, it was all stuff we expected at first. They asked us questions, took our history, gave us a psychological evaluation. They had a field day with me, let me tell you.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Micha grin.

“We were allowed to roam around. Couldn’t leave the building, they said for security reasons, but we were allowed to go anywhere not restricted. That’s how I met him.” June jerked her head toward Micha. “I saw him giving a lecture in a conference room, thought it was interesting, so I waited around and said hello to him after.” She left out the fact Micha’s body had been the only thing she found “interesting.”

“His wife was there, and he introduced us. That’s how I knew her, later.” She paused. Here, the story took a dark turn.

“They started doing tests. Recording our voices, MRIs, x-rays. Then they wanted blood samples, and for some reason—I don’t know, it was the way they were acting—that put a red flag up for me. I asked them what the hell they wanted our blood for, but they wouldn’t give me a straight answer. So of course that just made me ask more questions. And the more questions I asked, the more uncomfortable they got.”

Sam leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees, and clasped his hands under his chin.

“Then Jason got upset. He wouldn’t do any more recordings. He’s got issues about using his power.” She paused again. “They got hostile and sequestered him in our room and took all our shit—our clothes, our wallets, our cell phones. I only had my jacket because I was outside smoking when it all went down. When I came back, they told me to get in the room with him. I knew something was going down and we were in trouble, so I started planning a way to get out.”

“What did you do?” Sam asked.

“They came in to give us food after a while, two guys. They were wearing these special noise canceling headphones; they’d been using them every time they did a test on us.” She snorted. “Didn’t stop the one from going down like a load of bricks when Jason punched him. The other one just got out of the way. We ran out of there, got in an elevator. I didn’t know where to go, the elevator didn’t go all the way to the ground, so I just hit the lowest floor.”

She tucked the bottle in her lap. The cigarette burned away in her hand.

“When the doors opened, she was standing there, his wife, Rose. She must have been getting ready to go home or something. I didn’t know if she would help us. I told her they were chasing us, and she got this look on her face, like…she knew. Like she’d been waiting for something to happen.”

Micha furrowed his brow.

“She said ‘come on.’ We got in this other elevator. It went down to a parking garage.”

“The vampire research floor,” Sam said. “It has access to an underground parking garage, so the vampires don’t have to expose themselves to sunlight. Trust me. I’ve got more blueprints of that place than the people who built it.”

“When we got down there, it was too late,” June said. “These security guards popped up out of nowhere.” She stared down at the glowing end of her cigarette emitting a slow ribbon of smoke. “They took a shot, just like that. Shooting at us like if we got out it would be the end of the world. They didn’t even try to subdue us. I felt the heat off the bullet. Went right past me and into her.”

She saw Rose’s face again—her wide, shocked eyes, her dark red mouth opening in a scream. Her blood splattering the trunk of the car behind her.

“They grabbed Jason, but I ran. I should have stopped. But I ran instead. I don’t know how I got away, just hiding behind cars until I found a way out.”

Micha still looked confused.

“When I calmed down enough to think, I went through my pockets. All I had was my smokes and Micha’s card. He’d given it to me when I talked to him. So I hustled some change and called him from a pay phone. I’d just watched his wife die, and he was the only person I could call.” She took a long drag. She blew the smoke out slowly.

“Go on,” Sam said.

“I hid until he picked me up. I was out of my skull. I was sure they’d killed Jason. I didn’t know what to do. I needed Micha to help me, so I made a bad decision. Not the first one that night.”

“You enchanted him.” Sam sat up straight.

She nodded. “I made him forget he was married, in case someone called him while we were together. I just wanted him to get me somewhere safe, then I was gonna take it off him. But I couldn’t. It was stuck.”

“You were emotional when you did it,” Sam said. “That gives it power.”

She pushed the stub of her cigarette into the bottle, and it sizzled faintly as it hit the bottom.

“Micha took me to her place.” She indicated Cindy. “She hid me out. Us. Since Micha has a big gaping hole in his memory concerning his wife, who was just murdered, we thought things might be a little difficult for him.”

“I don’t remember this woman they’re telling me is my wife.” Micha’s voice was odd, flat yet tremulous. “I feel like I’m going mad. There’s pictures of her in all the papers. Hell, there’s pictures of her in my phone. But I don’t remember being with her. How can I not remember my own wife?”

The desperate edge in his voice made June’s stomach lurch.

“It’ll wear off,” Cindy said. “Maybe it’s best you don’t know right now. It’s saving you from a lot of despair, so you can save your own life.”

“I feel like someone is playing a big joke on me.” Micha looked down at his hands. “I can remember everything else—my work, my life, my family. There’s just these big empty spots where I know things used to fit, and I suppose that’s where she goes, but she’s a stranger to me.”

June swallowed thickly. “Micha, I’m sorry…”

Sam clapped his hands together, cutting through the moment. “Stop it. We have no time for bullshit and pity. Regret is a useless emotion.” He focused on June. “Your power is ‘stupid strong,’ as the kids say.”

“I don’t think the kids say that.” She set her bottle aside.

“Whatever the hell they say, you have an impressive amount of whatever it is you have. That’s why the Institute wants to stick a huge scientific dildo up you.”

June twisted her lips.

“They took one look at your eyes,” Sam said, “and they knew.”

“My eyes? What about my eyes?”

“They’re very green,” Cindy said.

“I thought you were wearing contacts the first time I met you,” Micha said.

“I know they’re really green. I’ve had them my entire life.”

“Your eyes are connected to your brain,” Sam said. “The stronger your power, the more your eyes are affected.” He widened his own at her, dark and gleaming. “How powerful are you? Aural captivators are rare, but not undocumented. I’ve heard about the Siren Song.”

“That’s a myth,” she said sharply.

“What’s a Siren Song?” Cindy asked.

“A strong enough aural captivator,” Sam said, “can harm a person with their voice. Maybe even kill them. So they say.”

“Are you going to help me or not?” June sat forward. “Or are we just gonna talk shit all day? If you can’t do anything for me, tell me, so I can find someone who can.”

“Yes, I’m going to help you. But you have to give me a little time. Right now, go get some air and calm down. I need to make some phone calls.”

The room had a balcony. She took Sam’s advice and went out for another cigarette. Towers loomed around her like watchful giants, the world buzzing around their bases far below. The air ripped and pulled at her hair and clothes.

After a few minutes, Micha stepped out, not wearing a coat. He walked to the railing where she stood. June finished her cigarette and flicked the butt out into the wind.

“I’m not angry at you,” Micha said. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“Yeah, and how do you know that? You don’t know me.”

“I think you wouldn’t look at me the way you do if you didn’t feel some remorse.”

She didn’t respond.

Micha jerked his chin outward. “What do you think of it? Chicago?”

She bent over and rested her arms on the railing.

“Doesn’t matter what I think of it. Jason, he’d be acting like a stupid tourist right now. It’s not like L.A., where he lives. For one, you don’t have as many pretentious douche bags walking around.”

Micha chuckled. “You just haven’t been to the right places yet.” He shifted toward her. “This is a true metropolis. Something to behold. Intimidating sometimes, but majestic. A testament to what humans can create. It’s an entity, you know. We as entities create other entities. That’s what humans do.”

“You’re not from here, are you? No one talks about where they live like that.”

“I am, actually. I guess I’m just not jaded.”

June almost said “you will be,” but Micha didn’t need any more negativity.

“So your brother is an actor in L.A.?” Micha said. “You and I haven’t really talked much, have we?”

“It’s not been a very good time for socializing. And yes, he is. He does more grunt work at studios than acting right now, but he’s working on it.” Was working on it? She pushed the terrible thought away.

“Has he been in any movies?”

“He’s done some extra work. A few commercials. Had a small part in a TV pilot, but it never got picked up.”

“You know, it’s okay that you ran.”

She squinted against the wind. Micha’s hair fluttered over his forehead, his own eyes squinted as well.

“Tell my brother that.”

“Out here, on the run, you still have a chance to save him. In there, if you’d let them catch you? You’d both be screwed.”

Her hands trembled from the cold. Or emotion. Or both.

“Right now both our lives are messed up,” Micha said. “But we have to figure out the right thing to do before more people get hurt. Before anyone else goes down because of this.”

Putting the needs of others first. She being selfish as she was, she didn't know if she could ever tolerate someone like that.

“You’re a good man, Micha.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know me.”

The air whistled around the balcony and pushed under her shirt like a solid icy mass.

“Why don’t we go back inside?” Micha motioned to the door. “It’s cold out here.”

She stood up and turned away from the railing. “All right.”

Back inside, Cindy had a fresh glass of whiskey. Sam leaned on the back of the sofa he’d been sitting on, cell phone to his ear, hip jutted out. June walked around him and discreetly checked him out, or so she thought.

“I saw that,” Sam murmured.

She shrugged and flopped down in her spot next to Micha on the other sofa.

Sam lowered the phone and pressed it against his shoulder. “June, who was the lead researcher on your study?”

She struggled to recall. “John…McKormic? I think. Short guy, balding. Obnoxious.”

“Do you know him?” Sam asked Micha.

“I know who he is,” Micha said. “I’ve talked to him at fundraisers. He’s a brilliant man, created more efficient research techniques, made them more streamlined and specific.”

“So jacking my blood was his idea.” June scowled.

Sam placed the phone back to his ear. “John McKormic? Do you know him?” A pause as he listened. “Yes. Send someone to have a chat with him, someone who can get some information. Send a witch if you have to.”

Cindy jerked her head around.

“Find out if the other Coffin twin is alive,” Sam said. “Call me back at this number.”

Sam took the phone from his ear and clicked off. “So you know this guy, Micha? This researcher?”

“We’re not best friends or anything, but he knows me. I’m sure he knew my…wife, too, if she worked at the Institute.”

“Well then, we need to make sure he doesn’t see you, since he’ll recognize you. You’re staying here at the hotel until further notice, with June.”

“We’re staying here?” June asked.

“You want my help, you get my protection. Package deal.”

“So benevolent,” June said. “We could just go in and shoot up the place, too. Cindy would love to help with that, I’m sure.”

She shot June a glare.

“Completely realistic,” Sam replied. “You’ll keep your ass here until otherwise told not to.”

June saluted him. “Aye aye, Captain.”

“Good, you passed your second test. We’re getting somewhere.”

“What was the second test?” June asked.

“Doing what I tell you to, without question. Cute and smart. Cindy, I’m having Robbie come pick you up.”

“I am not cute,” June said.