“What’d you do to Boone?”
I froze, letting the question dangle unanswered.
“Excuse me?”
“In the alleyway,” Damien went on. “How exactly did you do that?”
I’d asked them a dozen questions already, and they’d answered all them. But somehow being cross-examined was the last thing I expected.
“I… I—”
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” said Damien, giving me an easy out. “But consider this: nobody would believe what you did unless they actually saw it.” He paused, nodding back toward Broderick. “Just like no one would believe what we just told you either, unless they saw it too.”
His hands were on my hips now. Kinda like they were before, only much different.
“But not seeing it? In either scenario?” Damien looked back at me and shrugged. “It doesn’t make it any less true now, does it?”
My eyes shifted over to Broderick as the point hit home. I nodded slowly.
“Can I use your room for a minute?” I asked.
Damien broke into grin. “Again?”
“Alone this time,” I smirked.
“Alright, sure.”
As I pushed past him his eyes narrowed. He called back to me from over his shoulder.
“Wait, you’re not gonna steal anything, are you?”
“No, but I may break something.”
I heard him groan audibly. “What?”
“A West African woman’s ass.”
10
SERENA
The video display on my phone took an extra few seconds to synch up. When it finally did, a shriveled old black woman’s head entered the frame.
“Ms. Weston?” the ancient voice creaked. Xiomara rubbed her eyes as she squinted into her phone. “Everything alright?”
“Not exactly,” I said.
She cleared her throat. All around her I saw nothing but darkness. Only the glow reflected back from her screen distinguished her facial features at all.
“Jesus Christ,” she mumbled. “What time is it?”
“Does it matter?”
“Hell yes it matters!” the Head of the Order grunted. “You’d better have a damned good reason to be waking me up at this hour!”
I laughed a little on the inside, knowing how badly I was baiting her. She deserved it, though. I was pissed.
“Well? What is it?”