LA
moved my belongings-which weren't much more than a few changes of clothes and my hacking gear-to a suit
bird, content to sit in a golden cage. He didn't know I was a vultur
ring" of the Sharpe family's ruins, I used his secondary terminal. My fingers flew across the keys,
. Project
d a shell company called "Patterson Holdings" to systematically absorb small, independent pack territories. My parents' territory, a lush valley upstate, had b
the keyboard. My breath h
workin
t my ribs. Graham was leaning against the doorframe, his tie loosened, a glass of amber whiskey in h
Blackwood gala files," I
he small space. He didn't look at the computer. He looked at me. He rea
ous octave. "I saw the invitation for their charity dinner on your desk. You still w
whispered, the truth tast
is lap as he sat in the oversized office chair. It was a position of humiliating intimacy, but I was too drained to
into his silver-flecked eyes. "To be my hero?
n. "I'm the monster that keeps the other monsters away. You're going to that gala tomorrow night. Yo
terson file. The real one. I know you've been looking for it
e. He had been watching me hunt my parents' killers li
/1/118228/coverbig.jpg?v=07f2b80346d543a519e1739cc1eabe21&imageMogr2/format/webp)