The thing Silas sent me to looked like it belonged in a fucking spaceship. There were so many goddamn buttons and slots, I’d had to guess where to insert the USB.
“What? Oh, yeah. I’ve been combing through their data for a couple of hours. That’s not why I’m calling.”
“Oh?”
“Somebody responded to the original ad.”
I put my car in gear and pulled out of the desolate lot. The tires of my hellcat created a cloud of dust as I drove away. “Do you have a name?”
“Of course I do. Hugh Laughton.” Silas made a noise. “His alias was George Washington. How un-fucking-original. Do you know how many people use that alias?”
I had no fucking clue the sort shit people got up to on the internet. That place was a black hole of unfiltered bullshit, and every time I thought about how deep it went, I wasthatmuch more impressed Silas had made it his bitch.
“I found an email thread between Hugh and our ghost. They’re negotiating terms. I don’t think Hugh is very smart. He’s a terrible negotiator, and he’s not very good at spelling.”
Another chuckle ripped from my chest. “Can we locate Hugh?”
“His last known residence is a brownstone in the city but it doesn’t look like he’s been there all week. I’ve got a facial recognition system running right now but I haven’t gotten any hits yet. It could take a couple of hours.” His voice dropped a decibel, and I had to strain to hear his next works. “I’m sorry. Are you mad?”
The hell?
“No, Silas, of course not. It’s four in the fucking morning. I can’t imagine he’s out buying groceries and bullets at this hour. You’ll find him in the morning. Get some sleep.”
“Oh, I’m not tired. I’m actually going to see if I can use these emails and the processor data to figure out who the ghost is.”
I frowned. “When do you sleep?”
“Usually, I sleep whenever I get tired.”
If he were anyone else, I’d cuss him out for being a sarcastic shit, but this was Silas, and my kitten was as deliberate and exact as ever.
“When do you sleep?” He asked. “You broke into city hall and killed a guy the same night. Are you tired?”
It didn’t matter how many shots I’d taken or how many bodies I’d dropped—I couldalwaysexpect a jolt of adrenaline to rush alongside my nerves. The thrill was intoxicating, and it surged through my bloodstream the same way drugs did.
Except, the only drug I did was murder.
“Nope. My body won’t shut down until the sun comes up.”
“Oh.”
I could practically hear him gnawing at that lip.
“Silas?”
He made a noise, and I didn’t like how strangled and distressed it sounded.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I was just… well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come and wait with me but I thought that would probably be boring for you.”
“Wait for Hugh, you mean?”
It didn’t fucking matter, I was already changing direction.
“Yeah, but it could take hours, and—”
“I’m on my way.”