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Lucian stepped closer. “Lach—”

“No worries.” I pocketed the phone. “You go to Boston. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

His jaw flexed.

“Everything will be fine,” I said. “I just need to get a woman out from under Delgado before he decides to make an example of her.”

“You call me if anything changes.”

“I will.”

By the time we left Xyst, Lucian and Scarlett were bound for Boston, Nik was locking down the house near Teterboro, and I was walking into whatever Isabella Delgado had waiting for me.

Chapter five

Ididn’t pull into Meadowlands Auto Glass until I’d passed the block once and checked both mirrors on the way back. Rory had the perimeter, but I’d never been the kind of man who let someone else’s eyes replace my own. The plan called for extraction, but every nerve in my body understood how fast extraction could become an ambush.

A loose strip of plastic slapped against the missing window of a car parked near the garage bay. Somewhere beyond the houses and industrial lots, a plane lifted off from Teterboro, its engines grinding through the cold night. Across the street, a porch light flickered over a cracked walkway, and a dog barked.

I parked between a white work van and a Honda with a spider-webbed windshield, waiting for repair.

The dark gray Impala I was driving looked ten years old and boring enough to be ignored, which meant DarkMatter had done its job. The exterior was plain, but the glass was bulletproof, the tires were run-flats, the doors were armored beneath the panels, and the engine had enough power to move fast if the night turned ugly.

Trust DarkMatter to make a tired sedan feel like a war machine.

I killed the engine and sat there for a second with one hand on the wheel, scrutinizing the street through the windshield.

The neighborhood fit Isabella’s story: middle-class, quiet, and ordinary enough to disappear into, with small houses, narrow driveways, porch lights, and a detached garage here and there. It was close enough to the airport and industrial roads that vans, engines, garage doors, and late-night movement wouldn’t make anyone curious.

The phone in my pocket was my only connection to the men outside. I didn’t like going in without Rory’s voice in my ear, but Delgado’s men had been too close to Isabella all week. A phone was normal. A live transmitter could blow the extraction, put her in the ground, and leave a trail straight back to The Syndicate.

I pulled the phone free, drew the security pattern over the grid Nik’s security app required after the facial recognition, and typed a quick message.

Rory’s text waited on the screen.

Perimeter is quiet.

I typed back.

Don’t be disappointed.

His response came a few seconds later.

I prefer trouble that I can see. This is too well behaved for my taste.

That sounded more like him.

Nik’s message followed.

No sign of surveillance. No vehicles lingering or circling. Exterior clear.

I studied the house halfway down the block.

It was a modest single-family home with older siding, a narrow driveway, and a detached garage set back from the street. Warm light glowed in the front windows. Nothing about it suggested cartel money or a woman preparing to run from a man who would kill her if she failed.

Going in. I texted.

I slid the phone into my pocket, stepped out of the car, and locked it behind me.