“People,” Gray repeats, his voice hardening. “You’re talking about human trafficking.”
“Do you have proof?” Dragon demands.
Demon just smiles, and the silence that follows is answer enough.
Dragon rubs his face, suddenly looking ten years older. “I need time to think about this,” he says finally. “If this is true, we can’t let it continue.”
My mind is still reeling, but my priority is clear. “What about Kayla? She’s not safe.”
Dragon nods. “Until Naomi is dealt with, she can’t go back to her house. She needs to stay here, at the compound.”
“I’ll make sure she understands,” I agree. “She’ll be worried about her cats, though. And she’ll need clothes, toiletries.”
“I’ll send my sister Molly with a couple of guys to get her things,” Dragon decides. “Molly will know what to pick better than any of my men.”
I nod, relieved. “I’ll go talk to Kayla.”
But as I stand up, the room seems to tilt beneath me, my exhaustion finally getting the best of me. Dragon notices.
“Get some rest first,” he orders. “You’re no good to anyone dead on your feet.”
I want to argue, but my body betrays me with a jaw-cracking yawn. “Just for an hour,” I concede. “Then I’ll find Kayla.”
I drag myself to my room, barely managing to kick off my boots before stepping into the shower. The hot water revives me a little, washing away the night’s tension. Clean and in fresh clothes, I sit on the edge of my bed, intending to rest my eyes for just a moment before seeking out Kayla.
The next thing I know, sunlight is slanting through the blinds at a different angle, and I realize with a jolt that hours have passed. I’ve slept through the morning and into the afternoon.
“Shit,” I mutter, jumping to my feet, my heart suddenly racing. I need to find Kayla. Now.
I pull on my boots with more speed than grace, cursing under my breath the entire time. I was supposed to be there when she woke up. Was supposed to be the first person she saw, the one familiar face in a building full of strangers. Instead, Kayla has been alone for half the day with no explanation and no one she trusts. I yank on my shirt, run a hand through my hair, and head for the door.
I find her in the kitchen.
I stop in the doorway and take in the scene, and something shifts in my chest that I’m not entirely sure what to do with. Kayla is standing at the big prep counter next to Maddie, both of them elbow-deep in what appears to be serious dinner preparation. They’re talking together as if they’ve known each other for years rather than hours, and Kayla is laughing at something Maddie just said, her head tilted back, the sound of it filling the kitchen in a way that makes the air feel different.
At the counter to their left, Finn is very unhappily slicing onions. He has the expression of a man serving a prison sentence. His eyes are watering, and he looks up when I enter with the specific resentment of someone who believes their situation is deeply unjust.
Kayla spots me first, her smile dimming only slightly. “There you are,” she says. “I was starting to think you’d gone into hibernation.”
“Sorry,” I say, stepping fully into the kitchen. “I just meant to rest for an hour.”
“You needed it,” she replies, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “You looked like death warmed over last night.”
“Thanks,” I say dryly. I’m relieved to see her looking so relaxed. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and she’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt that must be borrowed because they are slightly too big for her slim frame.
My gaze moves back to Finn, who is glaring at the onions in front of him as if they had personally offended him.
“Kitchen duty,” Kayla says, following my look, her tone airy. “Seems like it’s still Kit’s favorite method of dealing with Wrath’s behavior.”
“Wrath?” I look at Kayla, then at Finn.
Kayla frowns slightly. “Yeah, Wrath.” She gestures at Finn with her paring knife.
“That’s just Finn,” I say.
Both Kayla and I look at Finn, whose ears have turned an impressive shade of red. He doesn’t look up. Finally Kayla just says, “well when we were introduced, he was umm…most emphatic that his name was Wrath.” With a shrug, Kayla turns back to her vegetables.
“Hey, Maddie,” I say, “would you mind if I borrow Kayla for a few minutes? I need to talk to her.”