Rare Vigilance (Whitethorn Agency)

When he saw Atlas pull out his phone, he started pleading for a seventh time, though he was wise enough to not creep any closer. Atlas glared at him and said, “I have to call my employer, so shut the fuck up.”

He decided not to bother Decebal, who would likely request he go home for the night, and dialed Helias instead. The man picked up on the third ring. “Helias Casimir speaking.”

“Mr. Casimir, it’s Atlas Kinkaid.”

“Ah, Mr. Kinkaid, I noticed you haven’t arrived yet. Is something the matter?”

“I was rear-ended on my way over and it’s taking longer than I expected to get to the house to pick up Cristian and the others for their trip to Rapture. Would you let them know I’ll be there soon?”

“I’m afraid I’ll be unable to do so.”

Atlas’s gut sank and he gripped his phone tighter. “Why’s that?”

“He and the others left shortly after sundown. Andrei drove the

m. I assumed their departure had already been cleared, as Cristian didn’t leave any message behind for you.”

He looked at his phone to check the time, not responding to Helias’s concerned, “Mr. Kinkaid? Mr. Kinkaid, are you still there?” They’d left after sundown, right as he should have arrived for his shift. Cristian must be trying to avoid him, and he’d finally turned to Andrei for the surreptitious help he’d offered shortly after Atlas’s arrival.

He’d apologize later for hanging up on Helias, but nothing about the situation sat right. No matter how awkward their conversation about feeding was, Cristian wouldn’t have snuck out behind Atlas’s back without encouragement from someone else. Someone like Andrei, who disliked Atlas and wouldn’t pass on an opportunity to undermine him.

Then there was the convenient timing of Andrei’s confronting him yesterday about Cristian’s feeding. Yesterday, the same day Jasper had found Atlas and demanded he obey Bryony’s commandment. Atlas didn’t believe in coincidence, especially when evidence stacked up. He may have turned his back on the Wharrams, but he’d done their work anyway. He’d driven Cristian straight into a trap he’d never known existed.

He hurried back to his dented car and opened the door, ignoring the kid’s screech for him to wait. Waiting could cost him Cristian. He pulled back onto the road and sped toward the club, dialing Ioana on the way.

She didn’t answer. Probably hadn’t heard her phone ringing at all, but she was the only one of the group who kept it on vibrate, to Cristian’s everlasting disapproval. Atlas tried her again. And again. When the line opened up at last, Atlas shouted, “Where’s Cristian?”

“Atlas?” So much background noise. It grated against his ear and scraped the inside of his skull.

He gritted his teeth against the pain and asked again, “Ioana, where is Cristian?”

“He went down to the bar with Dinu and Andrei a little while ago. They’re not back yet. Where are you anyway?”

The light ahead of him blinked from green to yellow. No other cars he could see at the intersection, so he made the split-second decision to floor the gas and speed through. Not much farther until he hit downtown. If he parked in the employee lot, he could avoid the traffic out front entirely.

“I need you to find Cristian,” Atlas ordered. “Send Vasilica to let me in the employee entrance out back. I’ll be there soon.”

“I don’t understand—”

“Find him!” He hung up and tossed his phone into the passenger seat.

A confused Vasilica waited for him at the back door when he pulled in. He grabbed his phone and rushed toward her. “Cristian?” he called when he was close enough for her to hear.

“Ioana’s looking for him. Dinu said he and Andrei were hanging out at the bar when he came back to find me.”

“Fuck.” He slid past her to find Ioana hurrying down the hall to meet him. “Did you find him?”

“No, but I saw Andrei outside one of the rooms on my way.” She led him back toward the club proper, then down another different hall he’d never seen before. Andrei, who’d been sitting near the farthest door, rose when he spotted them.

“Look who finally decided to show up. Cristian can’t talk to you right now. He’s a little busy,” Andrei said. When Atlas ignored him and kept coming, he held up his hands in protest and added, “I checked him, just like you do. I swear it.”

He didn’t move out of the way, so Atlas braced himself and shoved his shoulder into the larger man’s chest. Andrei’s back thudded into the wall, prompting a hiss of sympathy from Vasilica.

“Atlas, what the hell is going on?” Ioana asked, her voice tight with worry.

Andrei was complaining to Vasilica, something about Decebal not being happy at Atlas going off again, that he was behaving like a jealous lover, and Atlas didn’t care. Cristian was on the other side of the door and Atlas had no idea who was in there with him.

The door was unlocked, just as Cristian and Atlas had agreed after their initial confrontation over the trysts. It swung open on silent hinges and Atlas stepped inside. He drew up short when he saw Cristian’s partner for the night. It was almost like staring into a mirror. Almost. He was a little shorter than Atlas, with a face softened by comfortable living, and no scars. He was how Atlas imagined he would have looked if his life had taken a different, less violent path. Somehow, that hurt more than Cristian’s attempt to avoid him tonight.