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The Dream Crafter(78)



Amana was looking at him now, rising to lean up on her elbows to shamelessly eavesdrop on the conversation. “Do you know where he is?”

Nemesis’s snort over the stupidity of that question came through loud and clear. “The Tower, of course.”

“Of course.” It wasn’t the true headquarters of the Blackguard – no one knew where that was – but it was their public base and therefore, very well guarded. “Any chance they’ll move him since your people are talking to him?”

“No need, I’m afraid. They know mine won’t force an issue, and you aren’t stupid enough to go after him there. You aren’t stupid enough to go after him there, are you?”

“Tell me how I have a choice?” And a part of him wished she could, because no one sane would ever wish to go against the Tower without an army at their disposal.

“That I can’t do.”

“Guess that means I’m going then.”

Amana poked him then, and he grabbed her hand, kissed her fingers as Nemesis said, “I’ve been forbidden from interfering on this case.”

The words might be ominous, but Nemesis’s voice was light and teasing, not the type of thing he’d expect from someone giving him bad news. “Oh yeah?”

She continued, same easy tones and the drawl maybe a shade thicker than normal. “Yeah, but no one said I couldn’t offer an old friend a ride when he doesn’t have a car. Or leave him keys to a car on the other end. And if he finds a note while poking around in my glove box that shows where Hadrien is housed, well, that can’t be my fault.”

The pressure on his chest lightened a little. With her credentials no one would stop her and ask about her passenger, and as long as there was a car on waiting for him and Hadrien, he could get the little piss-ass away before Griffith could make a fuss. Well, that might be a little too optimistic, but he’d take what he could get. “Who could have a problem with friends helping each other with rides?”

“That’s what I figure. Tonight, eight, and don’t be late.”

He laughed, the glee of an impossible situation becoming a little less impossible infusing him. “I can guarantee that won’t happen.”

He wasn’t even sure he hit the disconnect button when Amana asked, “Who was that? What’s going on?”

He leaned down to give her a quick, claiming kiss, letting the feel of her buoy him up a even more. “Nemesis, and we know where Hadrien is, and I’m getting him tonight.”

That woke Amana sat up, excitement in her wide eyes and the hands clasping around his arm. “Where is he?”

“Blackguard, as I expected. But Nemesis knows how to grab him, and she’s giving us a ride there.”

“Will it be safe for you?” Amana pulled back, her happiness dimming as worry mixed with the previous excitement.

He wound his hand in her hair and pulled her for a deeper kiss, his mouth meeting hers with all the adoration he held for her. “Safer than you going after him, so don’t go down that road again. And if we can clear this, it’s over. You and I can move on with our lives. We’ll break this bound and then get Nakoa free, and after that, we’ll be living on the run, but we’ll be together. Think your brother will like me?”

Amana looked like her every dream had just come true. “He’ll think you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, because that’s the truth.”





Chapter Forty-Three







Nemesis was the kind of woman who could make you feel insignificant. She had an easy self-assurance about her, a half-lidded stare that was deceptive to how much she was taking in, and a quiet, slightly off-kilter beauty where it took several minutes being around the woman for the brain to realize how stunning her combination of features were. She pulled up beside them in a ride that screamed classic muscle, and Amana climbed in the backseat while Merc went up front.

“No one can say you are inconspicuous,” Merc said after introductions had been made and they started on their journey.

“No reason for me to be inconspicuous, darlin’, cause it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong,” said Nemesis, her voice carrying an edge of Southern hospitality and her attitude all in-charge.

“Of course not.”

As she ferried them, Nemesis’s eyes kept meeting hers from the rearview mirror. The other woman was studying her, setting her on some type to scale to see if she was wanting or not. After several minutes of easy back-and-forth with Merc and rearview glances, Nemesis said, “You’ve got Merc more twisted than I’ve ever seen.”