Page 3 of Prey

For a while, nobody speaks. The city moves past the tinted windows in smears of orange and white.

“He ran,” Marcus says from the driver’s seat. Not a question.

“He ran,” I confirm.

“You let him run.”

“I let him think he had somewhere to go.”

Marcus makes a sound in his chest, not quite a laugh.

Theon is already relatching his case. “He’ll be out for four hours. Maybe five, given his body weight.”

“Four is long enough,” I say.

Ezra doesn’t look up from his screen. His fingers move across the keyboard in short, decisive bursts, and then he holds the laptop up slightly, angling it toward no one in particular.

“Sent.”

His phone buzzes almost immediately. Then again. Then three times in quick succession.

He sets the laptop back on his knees and reads the replies, his chin resting on one fist, his expression unchanged.

“Lucien says, and I quote,finally.” He scrolls. “Damon wants to know which room you want him in. Dominic hasn’t responded.” Another scroll. “Darius sent a GIF.”

“Of what?” Marcus asks.

Ezra stares at it for a moment.

“A cat carrying something in its mouth.”

Marcus’s shoulders shake once.

“I’m not a cat,” I say.

“You literally stalked prey through an alley and brought it back to us,” Marcus says.

“That’s called capture.”

“You pounced.”

“I intercepted.”

Theon tilts his head toward the unconscious Weiss. “He did carry him.”

“I didn’t carry him; I loaded him into—” I stop. “Why am I explaining this to you?”

Ezra is still looking at the GIF. “The cat looks focused. Purposeful.” He turns the screen toward me. “I think it’s flattering.”

I reach over and close his laptop.

He opens it again without missing a beat.

“Send Darius a different GIF,” Marcus says. “One with a dog and a bone, I think it’s more fitting.”

“I’m not engaging with Darius over stupid fucking GIFs.”

“That’s exactly what the cat would say,” Theon says.