Chapter 20 · The Name He Buried

The lights went out.

I didn't move. Couldn't. My ears were still ringing from the tape—*Vincent Cross ordered the bombing*—and now someone was here. In the dark. With us.

Locke's hand clamped over my wrist. Hard enough to bruise.

"Stay down," he said. Not loud. Barely a breath.

Across the room Devin was on his feet. One arm hanging useless, the other reaching for his empty holster. He'd left his gun on the table when Locke patched him up. Stupid. We were all stupid.

Footsteps outside. Heavy boots on gravel.

Locke pulled me behind the couch. His other hand already had a gun—where the hell did he keep those?—and he was moving toward the window. Not looking at me. Good. I didn't want him to see my face right now because I was about two seconds from losing it.

My dad's voice was still in my head. *I got her out. Mara's alive.*

And Locke's father—*his* father—killed my mother.

The door rattled. Someone testing the lock.

"Back exit," Locke said. Still quiet. Still that cold focus he got when things went bad. "Ivy. Now."

I didn't move.

"Ivy."

"Who is it?"

"Does it matter?"

It did.