Page 30 of Property of Fang
“None of this helps,” I say in an attempt to shut them down before the altercation gets physical. Although I’ve got to agree with part of Darla’s view of the situation—Nandiisstrangely blasé about it all. “When will they take you to see your mom, Mila?” I redirect to a slightly happier topic.
“The woman said they’d take me for a medical evaluation this afternoon with you all, and then they’d escort me to meet her halfway.”
“Promise you’ll keep in touch,” I implore. “I want to know how things go when you get home.” Probably the most honest thing I’ve said today.
“I don’t know how to reach you,” Mila says.
“Social media, dumbass,” Nandi grumbles.
Darla elbows her in the side of the thigh.
“I don’t have social accounts,” I tell her, even though she doesn’t warrant an explanation. “I’ll figure it out.” Maybe after I get the phone I asked Loki for.
Fingers crossed I read him right, and he’s trustworthy enough to organize one without telling any of the others.
“I’ve got an idea,” Darla exclaims, rising to her feet as she does. “Hold the thought.” She crosses the room to where Darko’s seated in the corner, sketching on an iPad while he pretends not to eavesdrop. After a brief discussion, she returns with his device. “Let’s set up an email address that we all have access to. Then when we get home, we can message it with our contact details and any one of us can log in when we’re ready to see them.”
“Not a bad idea,” I praise.
“Until it gets hacked,” Nandi grumbles. “And then everyone knows where we are.”
“Seriously,” I drone. “Just leave already if you’re going to be such a ray of sunshine.”
She lifts her middle finger in my general direction.
“What should we make the address?” Darla asks, tapping her finger against the screen.
“You want to pick nothing that can be related to any of you.”
I jolt at his voice, unaware Darko had wandered over. He’s the same guy that came into the basement with Fang to let us out. The one that caught Kathy when she tried to run. He stands out because he seems so much younger than the others—young enough that it surprises me to see a badge on his chest stating he’s an officer.
The Kings of Anarchy’s secretary.
“What do you suggest?” I ask, peering up at him from my position on the floor.
“Random words,” he says before pointing to Mila. “Pick a fruit.”
“Uh, melon?”
He gestures to Darla. “A color.”
“Green.”
Me. “Season.”
“Winter, I guess.”
And finally Nandi, who peeks at him from the sofa. “Emotion.”
Her nostrils flare slightly. “Anger.”
“AngryGreenWinterMelon,” he recites. “That’s your email address.”
“And how are we supposed to remember that?” Nandi asks.
Darko glances to Mila beside me, who full-on shivers. “Something tells me your brain won’t let you forget much.” Hetips his chin to Darla before adding, “Hand it back when you’re done. No hurry.”
The four of us track the guy from the room before Nandi’s eyes grow wide. “He just left it with you? Unlocked?”
