Wrong Side Of Dead by Kelly Meding Page B

hard to hide. Operating as Triads depended upon secrecy and the ability to move around without being bothered by the real police. It’s an advantage we’ve lost in a most spectacular manner.
    “We’ll take the other injured out of here in waves,” she continues, speaking to me like an equal. It’s unsettling. “Some of the rooms in this motel will be for our little MASH unit, and the others for living in until we come up with something more permanent. The equipment can be stored in the trucks for now.”
    Good plan, all around. “What kind of help is Astrid offering?” I ask.
    “Assistance with transportation and any medical personnel we require.”
    When she doesn’t continue, I say, “And?”
    “That’s it.”
    I glance at Phin, whose expression is blank. Our hands are still entwined, and I’m sure Kismet’s noticed, but I don’t give a shit. “Gee, that’s generous.”
    Kismet shrugs. “She didn’t have to help us at all, Stone. Her team showing up today helped immensely. A lot more people could have been hurt or killed.”
    “True.” Annoying, but true.
    “And she wants to meet with us. Officially meet.”
    “Meet, huh?” Looking up at Kismet is starting to hurt my neck, so I let go of Phin and carefully stand. The tarp brushes the top of my head. No dizziness, no vertigo. Score one for me. “Who’s us?”
    “Me, Adrian Baylor, and you.”
    I hear Phin stand up behind me, tenting the tarp upward. “Why me?” I ask. “I’m not in charge of anything.”
    “Wyatt wants you included in this.”
    So Wyatt spoke to Astrid about me. I can’t help wondering if it’s because of our little fight, or in spite of it. Or which makes me less crazy. “Now?”
    “Tonight, after we’ve moved out and settled in.”
    “I guess you and Baylor are in charge now, huh?”
    A haze of grief steals briefly across her face, chased just as quickly by uncertainty. “Looks that way,” she says. “Which means you’re welcome to come with us, Stone.” Her gaze flickers over my shoulder. “Unless you have a better offer?”
    “Depends on your definition.” I can’t explain why I’m leery of returning to Phin’s shared condo. Especially if Wyatt shows up.
    I can’t tell her the secret that Rufus confessed to me about his involvement in the death of Wyatt’s family ten years ago, and if I’m put in the same room with both of them, I won’t be able to keep my mouth shut. Maybe that’s what Rufus wants, and maybe the chance to unload his guilt is what he hoped for when he told me, because I don’t like lying to Wyatt.
    God, I don’t want to be responsible for this secret.
    “This works out, though,” I say, my way of redirecting the conversation. “I wanted to speak with Astrid anyway. Right now, the Assembly is our best chance.”
    Kismet nods, understanding without further clarification. The future of the Triads and the safety of the city are foremost in her mind, as well. “The vampires, too. They’ve helped us in the past. They don’t want to see the goblins or Halfies overrun the city any more than we do. Your contacts would be useful.”
    “Contacts?” I snort. Can’t help it. “Isleen and I didn’t exactly exchange phone numbers. She just has this odd habit of showing up.”
    Kismet arches a slim eyebrow at me.
    “Okay, fine,” I say. “You call her, I’ll kiss her ass.”
    Behind me, Phin chokes to hide laughter. “It’s very likely a vampire representative will be at your audience with Astrid,” he says.
    I pivot on my heel, hands going to my hips. “Why’s that?”
    He smiles, the enigmatic bastard. “A lot’s happened in the past three weeks, Evy.”
    A series of sarcastic barbs die on my tongue as I comprehend the hidden meaning in his words. “Like unexpected alliances?” His expression remains neutral. “I’ll take that as a yes. Awesome.” I spin to face Kismet again, whose mouth is open in an O. “Looks like we’ll get to talk to the vampires tonight,