you out in an alleyway behind a bunch of restaurants.”
Az dropped to a crouch and began working the manhole cover open.
God, Madigan would owe Jonah and Cas until the end of time. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for Az’s phone in the first place. They’d probably be in the midst of a shoot-out right now. Madigan could’ve lived with that. Or died, as it were. Jonah always wanted to go out quietly with a tap to the back of the head while he was unaware, but Madigan preferred a hail of bullets. He wondered what sort of thoughts Az had given to his own demise, if any. It wouldn’t surprise him if the arrogant asshole said he hadn’t given any thought to it because he was invincible.
“We’re going to need a safe place to stay,” Madigan added, his eyes glued to the curve of Az’s spine and the flex of muscle in his shoulder as he shoved the manhole cover to one side.
“I can help with that, too,” Cas chirped with far too much unwarranted cheer. “You know, Christmas is coming up, and I’ve gotten kinda into diamonds lately. Big ones.” Cas laughed as Madigan growled. “I’ll text you a safe house address when I locate one.” He ended the call by making a noisy smacking sound with his lips that Madigan guessed was supposed to be a kiss.
Handing Az his phone back, he explained Cas’s instructions, and they dropped down into the sewage tunnel.
Az flipped on his phone’s flashlight, and Madigan allowed himself one second to lean back against the ladder they’d just descended and catch his breath. He looked Az over, searching out any hint of injury from what little he could see in the darkness.
“You hurt anywhere?” Az beat Madigan to the question, stepping forward but halting when Madigan warded him off by lifting a hand.
“I’m fine. You?” Madigan wished he didn’t care. Wished the idea of Az being injured didn’t send a sobering pang through him.
“I’m alright.” Az inclined his chin, and they started walking. “Your queen must be quite brilliant.”
Madigan begrudgingly suspected the same, but he was curious. “What makes you think that?”
“Think about it.” Az nimbly skirted a broken chunk of concrete. “You said he had no overhead view. He was just looking at the camera feeds. So, the entire time he was telling us where to go, he was having to keep that whole system organized in his head, then visually translate it and orient within it in order to tell us what to do. I’ve known military operatives who wouldn’t be able to do that.”
“Shit, you’re right.” Madigan hadn’t considered it like that. He bit out another curse, kicked something wiggly from the toe of his shoe, and wondered if Cas would settle for pavé diamonds.
Probably not.
15
Azrael
Madi’s Queen was clearly worth whatever Madi paid them. They had an address within twenty minutes of finding their way out of the sewers, but it was a good half hour away by car. Az memorized the address before smashing the phone beneath his heel. He had no idea where they were, but he could still smell the brine clinging to the frigid sea air, so it wasn’t far enough from the shipping yard for Az’s comfort level.
The wind had teeth, biting through the damp, filthy fabric of their clothes as they dipped through back allies and main roads, neither speaking as Az’s clothes stiffened and his face grew numb from the cold. They needed a vehicle, but flagging down a cab was unlikely. They were filthy, covered in slime and refuse. More than a few people hurried past, huddling in on themselves, visibly recoiling at the sight of Az and Madi, likely questioning the sanity of two dirty people who didn’t have the sense to wear a jacket in November.
They walked for a good thirty minutes before Az felt comfortable saying Bennington’s men weren’t following. When they passed a packed public parking lot with a young guy manning the little shack, Az slapped Madi’s shoulder and nodded toward the booth where the kid was watching a movie on his computer. “We need a car. I’m freezing.”
Madi shook his head. “Not from that lot. There’s only one entrance and exit, and they’ll spike the tires if we try to leave without paying.”
Az grimaced. Madi was right, but that didn’t mean Az would say so. “We can’t walk thirteen miles like this. It will take hours, and I have sludge in my underwear, and, quite frankly, my