Villain (Gone 8)

“I’ll go with you,” Dekka said. “Armo, you mind taking Cruz and Malik up to the room?”

“My pleasure.”

Dekka intercepted a look between Malik and Cruz. Neither of them had missed that Dekka wanted to talk to Shade alone. But neither wanted to interfere, either, so they followed Armo toward the elevators.

Dekka led Shade to an alcove housing landlines and an ATM.

“What’s up?” Shade asked, unable to conceal a deep weariness identical to Dekka’s own bone-deep exhaustion.

“You know about the FAYZ? You read the books, saw the movie?”

Shade nodded.

“So you know who I mean when I say that Drake is alive. Or what passes as life where he’s concerned.”

“Whip Hand,” Shade said, suddenly more alert.

“Whatever you think you know, the reality is worse. Much worse. He’s been living out in the desert, but Tom Peaks brought him to LA. Don’t know where he is now, hopefully back in the far reaches of the Mojave. But even if he is . . .” She exhaled a shaky breath. “He’s obsessed with her.”

“Astrid Ellison.”

Dekka nodded. “Sooner or later he’ll go for her. And Sam won’t be able to stop him.” She took a long pause, knowing the gravity of what she was about to ask. “No normal human being will be able to stop him.”

Shade looked at the floor. “Dekka . . . I . . .” She made a small, bitter laugh. “I’m not real impressed by my own decision making lately, you know? Especially when it comes to the rock. Malik . . . You don’t know what’s happened to him, what he’s become.”

“It’s a risk, a terrible risk,” Dekka agreed. “But you do have some?”

Shade nodded so slightly it might almost not have been intentional. But after a moment she spoke. “Yes, Dekka. I have some.”

Armo was fast asleep by the time Dekka led Shade into the room. Dekka and Shade had picked up some coffee and pastries downstairs, and Dekka now set them out on the coffee table, like she was catering a business meeting.

But first Cruz and then Shade and then Malik used the shower, and by the time that was done, Armo had yawned and woken up. He sat wearing only boxers, blissfully unaware that Cruz was eyeing him like he was the last donut.

At six feet in a world that still felt women should be shorter than men, Cruz had few options. But Armo? Armo was massive.

In a good way.

“So,” Dekka said.

“So,” Shade agreed.

They sipped coffee, each seeming to Cruz to be waiting for the other to announce a plan.

“Tanks will be here by sundown. And as far as I know that Dillon person is still free,” Dekka said. With an apologetic look, she added, “Sorry. We almost had him.”

“It’s all over the news, obviously,” Shade said. “It’s shaping up as some kind of showdown. I won’t be surprised if more Rockborn show up. A lot of the . . . people . . . we cut loose at the Ranch . . . I saw Knightmare running for it. God only knows what that starfish kid, whatever he calls himself—”

“Abaddon,” Cruz supplied. “Vincent Vu.”

“Yeah. Him. Last seen in LA.”

“How fast can a giant starfish crawl?” Cruz asked drolly, and was rewarded by a grin from Armo. No surprise, he had perfect teeth and a gorgeous smile.

“What do we do? That’s the question,” Dekka said, looking at Shade. Then everyone looked at Shade.

Shade shook her head. “Don’t ask me.” She lowered her gaze and seemed to shrink a bit.

Dekka let go a snort. “Who are we supposed to ask, then? Look, honey, I’ve seen a lot about