Page 89 of Cruel Kiss

But she came in person. She stayed on the line. She told me not to open the door, and she was right, and the men left the second I said her name.

And it is beginning to seem to me that the only sane thing to do in a world full of liars is to figure out which of them wants the same thing I want, and stand near that one.

Mercer wants the person wearing her face.

I want my kids to grow up.

It's not friendship. It's barely an alliance. It's one brick.

But it's a brick nonetheless.

"Okay," I say. "So what do we do about it?"

She looks at me for a long moment. Behind me, in the doorway, I can feel Ronan not saying anything, letting me handle this myself.

"We start," Mercer says, "by you telling me everything you saw. Every detail. In order."

"I'm so glad you asked." I pull out a stool. "I'm good at that part."

25

CALI

When Mercer finally leaves, Ronan is quick to offer his opinion.

"I don't trust her," Ronan says.

"I know. Neither do I. Not all the way."

He clicks and un-clicks a pen in his hand repeatedly.

"But," I continue, "here's the thing I keep coming back to. She's worried about us right now. You and me."

"I noticed," he says sarcastically.

"So what if we aimed her at somebody else?"

He looks up.

"What if we fed her Lev?" I suggest. "She wants the person who dared to impersonate her. That's Lev's work, isn't it? If Mercer's going to be pointed at anything, I'd rather it be him than us."

Ronan is quiet for a second. Then his face breaks out into a slow, dangerous smile, full of pride. "You want to hand-feed our enemies to our enemies?"

"Killing one bird with another bird sounds way better than trying to figure out how to hit them both with the same stone. She's got resources we don't have. He's got a target on his back he earned. Seems tidy, doesn't it?"

He wags a warning finger. "Don't get too cocky. Nothing with the feds is ever tidy." But he's thinking about it. I can see him thinking about it. "It's not a bad idea, though."

"I have those sometimes."

He reaches over and covers my hand with his. "We'll have to be careful," he says. "We do it slow. We don't hand her anything that can come back on you."

"Onus," I say.

He looks at me. "I like the sound of that word. 'Us.'"

For a few days, it's almost good. Almost like being partners.

Then, three days later, I run out of garlic.