“Did you call to harass me?” My words are snippy.
“No, I called to warn you.”
“Do you have some kind of savior-complex I should know about, Tink?” I press a hand to my chest and gasp. “Are you my fairy godmother!?”
“Just shut up and listen to me.” I hear a sound in the background, like fingers clacking against a keyboard at hyper-speed. “You wouldn’t happen to be at your boyfriend’s place in Seaport?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I hiss.
“So you’re there.” Her voice gains an edge it didn’t have before. “Listen, you have to leave. Pronto.”
There’s a sudden presence at my side. I turn and see Nate looming over me, eyes narrowed on the phone in my hand.
“Who is it?” he asks, voice ominous.
“That your boyfriend?” Tink asks through the phone.
“He’s not my—” I break off when I catch sight of Parker hovering close behind Nate. “It’s Tinkerbell,” I inform them wearily.
“Yo! Princess!” Her voice is impatient. “Heads up or I’m hanging up.”
“Put it on speaker,” Nate commands. His voice books no room for argument.
I sigh and hit the button to trigger the speaker.
“Gang’s all here,” I inform Tink. “You’ve got the floor.”
There’s a furious sound of typing, then a low curse. “Great. Let’s hope at least one of you has a brain.” She curses again, distracted by something. “Turns out we stepped on a few toes the other night, when I broke you out. O’Pry and Petey are pretty fucking pissed we got the jump on them. Ruined their plan to make good with the big boss and all. They’ve been trying to track you down. Paid a visit to your place in Back Bay earlier.”
“How do you know where I live?” I ask, surprised.
“I have men stationed at the brownstone.” Nate answers before she can. “No one’s getting in.”
My eyes fly to his face. “How manymendo you have, exactly?”
His lips twitch at the incredulity in my tone. “Enough.”
“Focus,” Tink snaps. “I don’t have all day to listen to your inept sexual foreplay.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re a jerk.”
“I prefer ball-buster, but I’ll take what I can get.” Her smile is audible. “Anyway, no luck at your place means they’re casting their net wider. Cell pings say Seaport is their next stop — unless their phones have grown legs and decided to go for a stroll through Fort Point on their own.”
A thought suddenly occurs to me. “Are they coming after you, too? If they know you’re the one who helped me…” I can’t help but be worried for the little blonde imp.
“I can take care of myself.” The confidence in her tone is unshakeable. “I tapped into Mac’s server. His boys are headed your way, not mine.”
“You’re a hacker?” I ask, surprised.
There’s a brief pause. “I prefer hacktivist.”
My head tilts. “Isn’t that like calling a garbage man awaste management official?”
“Detritus disposal technician,” Parker offers, grinning.
Nate glares at us both. I bury a laugh.
There’s a pause from Tink’s end, then, “Who’s that?”