thought they were almost ready to wrap it up. They knew who was embezzling funds, but they needed a bit more evidence in case the client decided to pursue criminal charges. They likely wouldn’t. Corporations seldom prosecuted, but he liked to give the client the option.
There was a little huffing sound from the baby monitor that let him know Seth was still asleep. It was the soft sound of him turning, and Ian knew for certain if he walked into the nursery, his son’s butt would be up in the air while he sucked on a dream pacifier. Or probably one of his momma’s boobs.
He’d almost gotten those boobs back. So close.
Where were his monsters? A prickle of awareness went up his spine. It was a little spark that he got usually right before someone tried to kill him.
He glanced over to the sitting area of his office. Charlie had furnished it with a comfortable couch and two chairs, a coffee table between them. It was where they often sat with Alex and Eve and had lunch. That couch had also been the site of many a good time between he and his wife. It was precisely why the couch was leather. Easy to clean. Didn’t end up smelling like sex. Not that he minded the smell of sex when it came from his Charlie, but otherwise it was off-putting to clients.
Of course now the space was covered with tiny ponies and tons of crayons and colored pencils and paper he’d stolen from the copy machine.
He stood and walked over. He’d given the girls two dollars to go and raid the vending machine. It wasn’t something he would normally do, but a dad did what he needed to when he was leaving voice mails for four-star generals and didn’t want giggling girls in the background. They’d been playing with the multicolored ponies, who had some serious drama going on given they were plastic toys.
How long had they been gone?
He’d blocked off access to the floor downstairs, right? The security system would have beeped if they’d managed to get into the stairwell.
Kenzie had been showing off her art skills by drawing some rainbows and smiley faces. Then there was the drawing of a kid being hit by lightning. He was pretty sure it was a kid named Henderson and the artist was his little psycho, Kala. In her kindergarten class they kept a jar of marbles that they earned through being good. When the jar was full, they would get a pizza party. The teacher was mean—something she would need to be in order to survive Kala—and she took one out when one of the kids fucked up. Henderson apparently fucked up a lot, and Kala took exception.
She was either going into the Agency one day or she would be in jail. He had to figure out how to avoid either possibility because he didn’t want that for her.
Being a parent sucked sometimes. He often wondered if Charlie was playing the odds, if she wanted a bunch of kids because some of them had to become sensible human beings and not supervillains.
It wouldn’t be Kala, and Kenz might turn out to be that superpredator who smiled a lot right before she ate her victims.
Maybe that’s just what happened when a grizzled ex-Agency dude hooked up with a superhot assassin chick. It was inevitable that they would have little demons.
He should probably tell that Henderson kid to chill out.
It was definitely too quiet.
The door to his office came open, and Kala stood there. She was dressed in a pink T-shirt with some anime character on it and jeans, her strawberry hair in a high ponytail he’d had to learn to perfect because she was picky about her hair. “Daddy, I need some butter.”
Oh, he didn’t like the sound of that. “I thought you were grabbing a bag of chips. Why would you need butter?”
Kala shrugged. “I like butter with my chips.”
He would give it to her. She was a cool customer. “Where is your sister?”
Her little mouth firmed. “She’s in the break room waiting on me to come back with some butter.”
“But the butter would be in the refrigerator, and that’s in the break room,” he pointed out.
Her brow furrowed. “Okay. I’ll look there.”
She turned and ran back.
And he followed because he knew damn straight when something was going on with his girls. He followed his daughter through the main office and its banks of cubicles. She wove her way through like