”I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,” Kenzi recited slowly, her chin still resting on Lauren.

”I love you simply, without problems or pride,” Lauren tilted the side of her head so that their temples touched. ”I’m surprised that you remember.”

”That’s all I can remember,” Kenzi took the picture back and sat back on the bed, returning the photo to the stack she’d been flipping through.

Lauren stepped back to get Kenzi’s appraisal of her outfit. ”Well?”

”Button down, getting down,” she chirped without looking up.

”It’s only dinner.” Lauren neared the end of her patience.

”Right, dinner.” Lauren felt the scrutiny in Kenzi’s voice. ”You wear the drapey purple thing when it’s sex—if memory, no, if reality serves.”

”Did you just call me a slut?”

”Moi? Jamais, jamais, jamais,” Kenzi teased, while holding the flat of her hand against her chest. Just as quickly, she was bothered again. ”I’d say my aim is true. Plus, you’ve been extra chummy with this one. I don’t typically see you with your conquests during the daylight hours. You’re four for four, Doc—and that’s not counting the last two weeks in Istanbul.”

Istanbul

”This is a total bust.” There wasn’t a lot of space and yet Bo managed to pace the single room studio like a feral animal and when she did stop, it was to take in the view of Istanbul, congested, swarming with people, and choking on its own noise. She imagined Lauren and Kenzi climbing its hills with Lauren unraveling the city’s mysteries through palm-lined parks, the minarets and battered arches, even the breeze skimming across the Bosporus, which on this afternoon, chilled the skin on Bo’s exposed arms. “Those two clearly have a thing for being near the water,” she weathered a mild complaint as she shut the windows. Then, she turned to Tamsin and Dyson, “I thought you two were professionals.”

Tamsin’s fingers raced over the laptop keyboard as she answered Bo, never breaking focus from the screen. “Kenzi is one of the finest hackers I’ve ever come across. When she buries a lead, she goes magma. The Matrix has got nothing on her algorithms. She’s put a delay on everything.”

“And the doc must be using Fae secretions to hide their tracks,” Dyson parked himself on the loveseat next to Tamsin, slumping deep into the cushions. He draped a forearm over his eyes.