“Will and Izzie?” he asked. That didn’t make sense.
“Well, yeah. It’s obvious. If anyone even looks too long at Santa Daddy, they can expect a surprise injection of the plague from Doc Will. You can’t tell me otherwise.”
Eh. He might be right about that one. Will had been heartbroken over the loss of Charlie years ago, and they finally had their shot at happily ever after. It might make Will a little aggressive when it came to protecting what was his.
But Izzie? He couldn’t think of anything more ridiculous.
“Not Izzie. He’s too sweet.”
Max snorted. “Don’t get drawn in by his too-sweet act.” Ed opened his mouth to argue, but Max immediately held up both hands, stopping his words. “No, wait. Act probably wasn’t the correct word. Don’t get me wrong. Izzie is great. I like Izzie. He really is as sweet and kind as he seems, but I’ve known guys like that. Don’t you dare underestimate them, because they are ruthless when it comes to staking a claim. If I were to flirt with Kairo, I swear to you that night Izzie would carve out my liver with a rusty knife while telling me about how he’s starting a halfway house for feral cats addicted to catnip while bottle-feeding homeless dolphins and knitting sweaters for hairless ferrets.”
As the picture grew clearer in his mind, Ed gasped, the air nearly freezing in his lungs. Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit.
He was right. That was Isidore Panopoulos.
How had he not seen it?
Because Izzie gave off this perfectly sweet cinnamon-roll vibe that screamed he needed to be protected.
And because Ed had zero interest in Kairo besides friendship.
He wasn’t a threat.
Max giggled, the sound wild and free. “You see it now! There’s no god in existence that could save that poor soul from Izzie.” He smiled at Ed. “But even if all the guys were single, I’d still pick you.”
“I—”
Ed was cut off by the cab hitting a hard bump in the road. Max was tossed upward, and their foreheads collided.
They both sat up, rubbing their heads and chuckling softly. This might not be the best place to be having this conversation.
Max glanced about, his brow furrowing as he dropped his hand to his lap. “What address did you give the driver?”
Ed turned his gaze out the window and frowned. Nothing appeared familiar. This was only his third or fourth trip to Cairo, so he wasn’t incredibly familiar with the city, but they’d spent over a week in the neighborhood where they were renting the house. After being in the car for so long, buildings and streets should be familiar.
He repeated the address that he gave to the driver and Max instantly shook his head. “No, this is wrong. We’re on the wrong side of town. Over by Bab Zuweila. We need to turn around.”
Grabbing the back of the driver’s seat, Max pulled himself forward when a person popped up from the front passenger seat with a gun pointed directly at Max’s face. Ed’s blood ran cold while fiery anger at his own carelessness exploded in his head. How had he missed this person?
Because when they’d climbed in, they’d been on the run. He’d given the driver and what seemed to be a pile of clothes in the passenger seat a cursory glance before climbing inside. He’d been sure they were safe; his only concern had been escaping the people who’d invaded Max’s apartment.
He was tempted to make a grab for the gun, but he didn’t want to risk it going off in Max’s face or hitting the driver, killing them all in the resulting crash.
The gunman barked something in Arabic that he didn’t quite catch.
“Where are you taking us? We shouldn’t be over by Bab Zuweila,” Ed said loudly, trying to catch Kairo’s attention. His earpiece had been silent almost since they’d jumped into the taxi, but he hadn’t thought much of it because all of his attention had been on Max.
“I’ve got you, big guy. Your tracker is giving me a clear ping,” Kairo immediately replied in a calm, controlled voice that helped to settle some of his nerves. No matter how badly shit was blowing up in their faces, Kairo always sounded like he had everything well in hand. When Kairo panicked, they all knew things were very, very bad. “Charlie and West have changed direction and are headed toward you. About ten minutes out. Soren and Alexei are snagging wheels as we speak. How many you got?”
“Two.”
“He said someone wants to speak to me. Just talk,” Max translated for him.
“Mironov sent them?”
“I…I don’t know,” Max admitted, his voice becoming soft.
But it was enough for his mic to pick up, because Kairo swore softly under his breath. Yeah, this would not be good. They were still trying to gather intel on this Nail Mironov and his operations. If there was another group hoping to get their hands on Max and the information he’d gathered about this lost tomb, they could find themselves seriously outgunned. They needed to escape and retreat to somewhere they could better fortify before making new plans. Better plans.