“What? Why?”

“Because he’s in love with you, and he wants to prove he can protect you.” There was more to it than that. I could almost see what he wasn’t saying. But before he could elaborate—assuming he would have—Kori turned on me.

“That means this is your fault!” Anger rolled off her voice like smoke from a fire. “And if he’s dead, you’re going to pay.”

I couldn’t process all that at once. Hell, I couldn’t process any of that. “He’s in...” I shook that off. I couldn’t deal with wondering whether or not she was right, and whether or not loving me had just gotten the best man I’d ever known killed. So I focused on Hadley, who was the only one in the room, other than me, who’d ever seen Chase Curtis.

She was staring at something behind me, as though she’d totally lost touch with reality, her mother’s hand still gripped loosely. “Hadley?” I wondered for a second if she’d understood what Kori had just said. Did she know that her biological mother was Kris’s other love? Did she know she was the baby Elle had had with someone else—a mafia king, just like my own biological father?

But when I turned to see what she was staring at, I realized her current state had nothing to do with what Kori had said. I doubted she’d even heard it.

She was staring through the kitchen doorway at the picture of Chase Alexander Curtis, still open on Vanessa’s laptop.

“The spider is dead,” she whispered as if she hadn’t already said it a dozen times. “The web is a trap.”

“Where?” I dropped onto my knees in front of her and took her free hand in mine. “Where is the spider? Where is the trap? Did you see it?”

Anne knelt next to me, and I thought she’d shove me away from her daughter, or tell me to leave her alone, but she only squeezed Hadley’s hand and waited for the answer with us. “Don’t hold it in, sweetie. You’ll feel better once you have it out of your system,” the mother whispered to her daughter. “Once you’ve told us everything you remember. Noelle always did.”

“House,” Hadley whispered. “The spider died in a house. By the wall. Kris was there.”

“Is he still there?” I asked, and Hadley made an obvious effort to focus on me. “Can you see anything else? Is he still there?”

She shook her head, then looked past me to where Gran stood in the doorway, silent as she took it all in, sipping from a steaming mug of fresh coffee tightly gripped in both hands. “Is it morning? Can I have some chocolate milk?”

“Of course.” Gran held one arm out and Hadley dropped her mother’s hand and let Gran fold her into a hug, careful not to slosh coffee on the child. Then she ushered her into the kitchen and pulled a carton of milk from the fridge.

I stood, my hands shaking again. “We have to find him. Olivia?” I glanced at Kori in question. “Cam? Can one of them find him?”

She nodded, already dialing. I put aside the fact that I’d only met her a few days earlier and broke my own rule about respecting other people’s personal space—especially those who sleep armed—and stood close enough to hear what was said when Olivia answered her phone.

“Liv? Sorry for the early call. I need you to track Kris.”

“He didn’t tell you he was coming, did he?” Olivia said, and I began to put it together in my head even before Liv spelled it out for Kori.

“Coming where?”

“Here,” Liv said. “He was here less than an hour ago, with a name for Cam to track.”

“Chance Curtis?” Kori said, and as I’d known she would, Liv mumbled something in the affirmative. “Can you track him for us? Both of them?”

“How ’bout I just give you the address?”

“I’ll certainly take that, but could you also track him for me, to see if he’s still there?”

“Sure.” Olivia said something I couldn’t understand to Cam, then she read Kori an address. Kori scribbled the information on her hand with the purple pen Van handed her, then Olivia was back on the line. “Cam says he’s not there anymore. Or else he’s being Jammed. Maybe Sera’s with him.”

“No, she’s here with us. I’m going after him.”

“Come get us. We’ll help,” Olivia said.

“No time,” Kori said. “But thanks.” She hung up and glanced at Ian. “Ready?”

“And willing.” Ian shrugged into a jacket, covering a shoulder holster I hadn’t even seen him put on.

“I’m coming.” I followed them toward the hall. “But I need a holster.”

Kori stopped and turned to look at me, and I could feel her assessment like a visual pat-down, only she wasn’t looking for weapons. She was looking for competence. “I’ve never been hit by friendly fire,” she said, her voice deeper than usual, and deadly serious. “And I have no plans to start now.”

“I’m not going to shoot you,” I promised as Van shoved a pair of jeans into my hands. I changed from pj shorts into the jeans in Gran’s room in record time, while Kori rummaged in the hall closet for an extra holster. She showed me how to wear it, then slid two full clips into a pocket beneath my right arm and adjusted the straps quickly as I got accustomed to the feel.

I checked my clip, then chambered a round, double-checked the safety and slid the gun into my holster.