Her Name Is Knight(Nena Knight #1)(15)

“Tonight”—his voice slipping over me like a funeral shroud, coiling itself around me, feasting on my insides—“your world will cease to exist. All you love will suffer and die. Your sons will die. You will die. And your princess will sell to the highest bidder. You, Michael Asym, who have had every damn blessing imaginable, have run out of them tonight.”





11


AFTER


Georgia Baxter turned out not to be as sleepy or traumatized as Nena had thought. She began talking and didn’t stop until they made it to her house. Nena figured it was nerves. During the ride, she told Nena what she already knew, that her dad was a federal prosecutor. Nena’s fingers tightened around the wheel, a tell she wasn’t proud to be displaying. She shot a quick look at the girl to see if she’d noticed. She hadn’t. Nena shrugged away any more thoughts of divine intervention and pressed the petrol to get the girl home a little quicker.

She’d barely pulled the Audi to a stop when the front door to the ranch-style home flew open and Georgia’s father burst through the doors, still in his suit, top buttons undone and tie slackened.

Georgia muttered, “Shit,” under her breath. She hesitated before opening the door of the idling car. She sneaked a quick look at Nena. “Thanks again for—um—you know. Earlier.” She couldn’t seem to reconcile what had happened to her. “And for the ride home.”

She didn’t give Nena a chance to respond before she was out the door and heading her dad off in the middle of the walkway. Nena watched as he gesticulated wildly, his anger and fear apparent. He peered over Georgia’s head, no doubt wondering about the strange car and who was in it.

Nena weighed her options. She could just toot the horn and drive away, like she’d seen one of those carpool moms do in a movie when she’d dropped neighbor kids off. If she got out, there would inevitably be questions. But something drew Nena out of the safety of her car, curiosity maybe, because now she wanted to see her mark up close and personal—this man the Council said had to go.

Georgia looked back at Nena, now standing on the other side of the car, before turning to her dad. Nena heard the same story about a library. Only now, Georgia had lost her money too.

Nena smirked. This one was adept at lying. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad. Clearly, Nena wasn’t going to be truthful about dispatching the Flushes in front of his fourteen-year-old daughter (she had been quick to correct Nena when she’d wrongly guessed the girl’s age). Even if they got Georgia’s father to believe it was self-defense, which technically it was, he wouldn’t understand why they hadn’t called the cops. He was essentially “the cops.” Plus, Nena didn’t want questions about her ability to put those men down the way she had. While she preferred complete truthfulness, she realized tonight she’d need the opposite.

A voice in the back of her head warned she was pushing her luck as she rounded the front of her car to approach the Baxters, but she dispelled it. In the light of the streetlamp and the walkway lit with little round solar lamps, Nena got her first look at Cortland Baxter, up close and personal. And he got a look at her.

She released a measured breath, letting her exhalation absorb the shock of feelings assaulting her. She kept her face placid, was able to speak naturally, as if she hadn’t broken protocol and her heart wasn’t fluttering ten thousand beats per second. She could hear those beats drumming in her ears and worried Georgia and her father could hear too.

The force of the—attraction, was that what this was?—made Nena take a reflexive step backward. She again wondered what kind of fate had brought her into the path of this family. This never happened. To have saved the life of the daughter, only to rip her heart out in a couple of days’ time. How was Nena to reconcile that?

Her attention shifted to Cortland, who had spoken and was waiting for her response. She hadn’t heard.

“Sorry?” she asked, startled.

“Dad wants to know where you come in,” Georgia answered pointedly.

“Please, the blame is mine,” Nena began. “I happened across Georgia in distress with no money—”

“And my phone was smashed,” Georgia interjected.

“That too,” Nena agreed. “She looked hungry and said you were working late, so I suggested we grab supper; then I brought her home. I should have thought for her to call you from my phone.”

Georgia shook both her head and her hand at Nena. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, since I don’t know Dad’s number by heart.”

Nena nodded. Made sense. Smart girl. “You probably should have important numbers memorized. At least your dad’s.”

“Why,” she asked, “when it’s programmed in my phone?”

Cortland chimed in. “The one you smashed, right, Peach?” He placed his hand on the crown of her head and gave it a little shake.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Nena’s face. Peach. She found the nickname endearing. And she liked the way Cortland sounded when he said it. When her eyes met his, he was staring at her. It rattled her, and she immediately worried he might recognize her from somewhere.

Or perhaps—her stomach soured slightly—perhaps his own intuition was alerting him that danger stood right before his eyes. He wasn’t looking at her as if she were a threat, though. No, he was looking at her as if he had something more to say. The intensity of his gaze sucked her in, making her feel uncomfortably warm.