“Peri, listen to me,” Silas said as he caught up. “I know you think you have this under control, but Bill is playing you. You’re doing everything he wants you to.”

There was a whisper-thin layer of dust on everything. Outside, the street was empty and silent, but in a few hours, it would be busy with life that never touched her, even when it walked in her door. Maybe it wasn’t a sanctuary, she thought as she looked at her knitting stuffed behind the register counter. Maybe it was a prison.

Opening a low drawer, she found the spare fob to her car. “Don’t touch anything,” she said as she slipped the thin metal plaque into a pocket. Her secondary passport and ID were right beside it, and she tucked them away as well.

Silas came up behind her, and she pushed his hand off the counter. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t go after him, but you’re going to need my help,” he said as she wiped his prints away.

Grabbing her knitting, she threw it in the trash.

“Hey,” he said, brow furrowed as he pulled the yarn back out and set it where it had been. “You need to slow down.”

“Don’t make me put you in the holding cell,” she threatened as she opened the register and took every last folding piece, shutting the drawer with a cheerful ting.

The familiar sound cut through her like a bullet. Throat tight, she pushed past Silas. The man wasn’t taking no for an answer. Cam, at least, had accepted the situation if his glum look and slumped shoulders were any indication.

“I’ll drive the car, then,” Silas insisted. “Give you a chance to sleep. Help you plan it out. Stay where you tell me. When you tell me. I’ll never even see Bill.”

Like that’s a promise he has any control over, she thought as she tugged the microwave out from its built-in cupboard. It was heavy, and Silas lurched forward to catch it, easily manhandling the heavy appliance to the counter.

“Sorry about the prints,” he said, using his coat to try to wipe them clean.

But she’d given up on leaving a pristine site, and she went on tiptoe to reach the three Glocks and extra clips hidden behind the microwave. “When have you ever done anything I’ve ever told you?” she said as she put one in her boot and another in her pocket. The third she hesitated over until Silas put his hand out, and then she tucked it at the small of her back, hating how it felt.

“Huh,” Cam whispered, his shadowy self shifting from foot to foot. “Boy, do I feel silly. I keep my guns in a locked cabinet.”

Shit, Cam. He shouldn’t be seeing this, but she was fairly confident he wouldn’t say anything to the authorities.

Silas took her elbow and turned her away from Cam. “You need an anchor. I need to be there if something goes wrong.”

“Peri, are you sick?” Cam asked, his tone suddenly wary as he came a step closer.

“Yes.” Peri wedged Silas’s hand off her elbow and moved around him.

“No,” Silas shot back, his shoulders hunched. “There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s perfect. Don’t ask me to stay behind. I know I’m a lousy partner, but I can help.”

Standing in the middle of the room, Peri pushed her hair up off her forehead as she weighed the trouble of going upstairs to get a new set of clothes against them following her up there. “Silas, I need to know you’re safe. It’s easier for me to do what I have to do if I know you’re safe.” There to catch me if I fall.

Seeing her softening, Silas pressed close. “In two days, LB will have enough Evocane substitute for a few months,” he said softly, but it was obvious Cam heard. “By then, things should be settled and I can start getting you off the addictive stuff piece by piece.”

Cam’s expression shifted, losing the rich-boy besotted lightness and taking on a wary, walk-away-now look. Fine. It’s better that way.

“Please.” Silas touched her face, bringing her back to him. “I can’t keep up if you don’t let me, but if you walk away from me now, I’ll never find you again.”

Even in the dark she could see his love. Blinking fast, she looked over the empty tables to the hazy lights beyond as she remembered the peace she’d made here. It hadn’t been a lie, but even if she could settle with Bill and return, WEFT would hound her forever. There is no peace but what you make.

But why did her past keep destroying it?

“I’m done. Everyone out,” she said, pulling away from Silas until his hands fell away.

His head down, Cam headed for the door. Silas stomped after him, his thick arms swinging. She knew that attitude. He wasn’t taking no for an answer, and it scared her. Fingers shaking, she took the spare key from the register, carefully leaving an obvious print on the dusty counter. Alone, she listened to the silence, letting it soak in and make a memory knot, tying it to the scent of dust, the chill of an empty room, and the sharp edges of the key pinching her fingers. She didn’t want to forget this place, ever.

Pulling herself up, she dragged her knitting across the counter and threw it away again. Breath held against the hurt, she walked quickly to the back door and shut it behind her.

The sound of distant morning traffic filled the silence of two men standing awkwardly before her. “I’m going to keep following you,” Silas said, the security system at his feet already reset. “I’ll make a mess of things. It would be safer if I was with you.”

But she’d already come to that conclusion, and she aimed the fob at the ramshackle shed at the edge of the tiny parking lot that had once held police barricades. An aggressive baruum of a growl exploded from the garage as the warming engine engaged, and she strode forward, feeling a surge of sexual satisfaction. Yep, it was that kind of a car. She’d been born in Detroit, and the need for power went to her bones.

Both Cam and Silas turned in surprise, the latter laughing in disbelief. “You keep your Mantis here?” Silas asked.

“Yep,” she said saucily, feeling better as she hit the entrance code and the rickety-looking door swung up with the precision of modern electronics behind it. Hips swaying, she strode to the wide gate that led to the alley. Unlocking it, she pushed the heavy wood to the side. Beyond it, Detroit waited in the predawn chill.

“Damn!” Cam swore, his back to her as he stood at the open garage, staring. “Is that a Mantis?” Silas cleared his throat when he reached to touch it, and Cam drew back. “It’s got a six-point-two L, V8, right?” he said, eyes glinting in the sudden light from the headlamps. “Zero to sixty in three-point-eight seconds. The only thing that can outrun it is a Lamborghini. Damn, it’s the premier year, before they took all the illegal stuff off it.”