McCain.
“You need directions?” Nicky asked. But before McCain could respond, Nicky sniped, “Oh, that’s right—you already know how to get to my house, don’t you, McCain?”
Alex sent a glance my way, looking a little apologetic—and more than a little nervous. Nicky intimidated him. No surprise there. What was surprising was how the guy kept glancing at me in the mirror. Why the hell would I make him nervous?
We rode in tense silence for the better part of the ride. I kept glancing between McCain and Nicky, wondering if Nicky was ever going to let up on the daggers he was glaring at the Enforcer. Anxious to get the hell out of the car, I was relieved when we finally started to pass landmarks I recognized.
“What’s your story, McCain?” Nicky asked, suddenly breaking the silence.
Well, damn. So much for my pending relief.
Alex shifted a little in the driver’s seat, adjusting his grip on the wheel. “Don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t remember anything from before.”
McCain was one of the few Tales who came over with no recollection of an origin story. I’d heard rumors of how Al had found him wandering around the streets of Chicago and had taken him under his wing, making sure the Relocation Bureau did right by him, and—when he was ready—giving him a job with the FMA a couple of years ago.
“That’s gotta be a bitch,” Nicky mused. “Not knowing where you come from, who your people are.”
Alex shook his head. “Not really. Since I don’t know where I come from, I’ve got nothing to live up to.” He sent a pointed look Nicky’s way. “And nothing to live down.”
But Nicky was too smooth to rise to the bait. He just donned his mirthless grin. “We all got a past, McCain. And it doesn’t matter a damn if you know what it is—eventually, it’s gonna catch up.” He narrowed his eyes. “So, what are your secrets, you think? What’s comin’ for you one of these days?”
McCain’s gaze darted over to Nicky, then up in the mirror at me. I cocked my head to one side, wondering what the hell was going on with him.
Nicky’s grin grew. “But it’s not the past that’s got you twitching, is it, McCain?” he drawled. “It’s the present you’re worried about.”
McCain’s gaze darted up to the mirror again but he quickly looked away so he could turn off onto the road leading to Nicky’s house. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
Nicky didn’t press the issue, but continued his stare-down. And the minute McCain stopped in front of the house, Nicky threw open the door and got out, helping me from the car and slamming the door. We’d just reached the foot of the steps when he turned and jogged back to the car. McCain rolled down his window, but didn’t so much as glance Nicky’s way.
“What do you want, Blue?” he sighed.
Nicky leaned in and rested his folded arms on the lowered window. “What do I want? There’s a lady present, so I’ll save that one for another time. But just know I’m on to you, McCain. I don’t know what you got going, but I do know when a guy’s not being straight with me. I just hope your secrets won’t put you in my crosshairs. I don’t give a shit who you work for—you get in my way, you put Trish in danger in any way, and I’ll take you out. Take you out before you even know it’s coming. We understand each other?”
McCain slowly turned his head and met Nicky’s gaze. “You don’t scare me, Blue,” he assured him. “You’re just a washed-up thug who hasn’t figured that out yet.”
Nicky laughed. “Yeah? Well, maybe so. But are you willing to put that to the test?”
“Come on, Nicky,” I said, taking his arm and pulling him away from the car. “It’s cold out here.”
Nicky put his arm around my shoulders and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Sorry, doll.” Then he jerked his chin at McCain. “See you around.”
McCain shook his head with a scoff, then drove off.
“Wow—are you spoiling for a fight that badly?” I asked as Nicky and I went inside.
“I don’t trust him,” Nicky muttered.
I slapped my hands on my hips. “No shit. He’s hiding something, I’ll give you that. But you showed your hand. That’s not like you. What’s going on?”
Nicky drew me into his arms. “Sometimes you gotta give a peek at your hand now and then, make everyone wonder what else you’re holding, make ’em sweat a little.” When I frowned, he kissed the crease on my forehead. “Now, come on. Let’s get outta these scrubs and go track down those Agency assholes.”
Nicky had a fleet of cars that would make Jay Leno salivate. Rows of various styles of vehicle—classic and modern—filled the warehouse Nicky called his “garage.”
“You actually drive all these?” I asked as I checked out what appeared to be a 1929 Rolls-Royce Phantom II.
He shrugged as he punched a ten-digit code into a keypad that popped open a safe containing several rows of keys hanging on pegs. “Not all. There are a few so rare I don’t risk taking them out. But most of them get to stretch their legs now and then.” He snatched a set from its hook and shut the door. The safe beeped as its security system engaged.
“We obviously have lived very different lives,” I muttered as I followed him to a black Range Rover Evoque.
“Yeah, well, don’t say that like it’s a bad thing.” He opened the door for me, then added with a grin, “Besides, there’s a lot gonna change for both of us from here on out.”
My stomach tightened, and I almost asked him if that meant he was planning to stick around now instead of taking off again once we’d found Dracula. But the words froze on my lips. It wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have right then—if ever.
I was quiet on the drive to meet with Nicky’s contact, a fact he didn’t miss. At one point, he took my hand and raised it to his lips and gave me a tentative smile. But I wasn’t in much of a talking mood. I returned his smile but then turned my attention back to the window and the buildings blurring by as we drove.
I was in love with Nicky. And there was no way I was going to walk away from that. He said he loved me, and I believed him. I just hoped it was enough to keep him here.
I was so distracted by my thoughts, I didn’t notice Nicky had parked until he reached over and put a hand on my thigh. “You okay, doll?”
I started a little and nodded, giving him a smile far too quickly to be believable. “Just tired,” I said, trying to cover. “Been one hell of a week, you know?”
He cupped my face and smoothed his thumb over my cheek. “It’ll be over soon,” he promised. “We’re close, Trish, I can feel it.”
I gave him a determined nod and gladly accepted his brief kiss, clinging to his lips for just a little when a sense of foreboding suddenly squeezed my heart. As we walked down Michigan Avenue with my hand grasped tightly in his, I tried to shake the heaviness that was weighing down on me, trying to figure out what had set it off and coming up with nothing. Every now and then, I’d send a glance his way, studying the planes and edges of his face, his strong profile, committing every line to memory.
I am going to lose him.
The thought struck me so hard I actually doubled over with a gasp, clutching at my stomach as if someone had punched me in the gut.
“Trish?” Nicky said, bending forward so he could peer into my face. “You okay, doll? What’s doin’?”
I shook my head, blinking away tears of heartbreak. I was imagining things. Everything would be fine. As soon as Dracula was brought down, we’d figure things out between us and live happily ever after. We deserved it, goddamn it! I swallowed hard, shoving aside my apprehension. “I’m okay,” I muttered. “Let’s just get this over with.”
We walked for a few more blocks, making a couple of turns, but I wasn’t paying any attention. The world around me kept going hazy, growing dim, then coming back into focus for a moment before fading again. I shook my head, trying to clear my vision. When Nicky slowed his pace, I squinted at our surroundings, surprised to see we were standing on Wabash Avenue in the middle of Jewelers Row.
My eyes widened when I saw the sign hanging over the store Nicky was heading toward: Rumpelstiltskin’s, Turning Straw Into Gold Since 1956.
“Your guy is a jeweler?” I asked.
