My frown deepened. I swept the terrace and the street again. My breathing was quick and sharp, but I kept my tone even. "Who are you?"
A long inhale. Static cracked in my ear while my eyes kept moving. Where the hell was he?
"A friend."
I smirked, staring at the couple across from me—syrupy, in love. Something twisted in my chest. Under the table my hand balled into a fist. "I said I'm not going back to the Organisation. Tell the Tailor and your bosses they're not touching me."
He sounded young—deep voice, distinctive. I could hear the smile.
"I'm not calling for the Rose Organisation. I'm calling to warn you. Rose found your place. Right now, while you're enjoying that coffee and fresh croissant, they've sealed off your building. You can't go back."
My fingers clenched under the table. Teeth ground. My heart slammed against bone; my breath went thin.
"From the Triangle Union? The Doctor sent you to—"
"I'm not with the Triangle Union either."
Fed up, I stood, drifted to the edge of the terrace, and scanned the street. A mild wind. The rush of traffic and voices. I drew a breath and said, eyes on the boulevard, "What do you want from me?"
He laughed—soft, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.
"I want you to come to a party with me."
I let out a sharp little laugh, pressed my lips together. "What else?"
"Don't get excited, bride. I've got a girlfriend. Strictly business."
He paused, then his voice shifted—calmer, harder.
"In the last two months you've changed locations more than five times, and not only do they find you—I find you. You've burnt through over twenty grand trying not to get caught, and every single time they track you down. Know why? Because you were trained to spy and kill—not to run."
Heat pulsed through my palms. How did he know all this? My voice slipped its leash, tight and ragged. "What are you after?"
"You and I want the same thing, Viuna. You help me trap the Doctor from the Triangle Union, and I help you disappear for good—so no one ever finds you."
I scraped my teeth over my lip, tasted metal. "What makes you think you're better at this than I am? Only one person could pull that off—the genius who used to work for Rose."
He chuckled. "That genius doesn't work for them any more, little lady…"
Another soft laugh—and then a horn sounded beyond the terrace. My eyes tracked to a black motorbike. The rider flipped up a red visor and looked straight at me, waiting. My heart dipped. The same bike I'd seen last month.
"You're King Fish," I said, stunned, the phone cold in my hand.
He drew out a laugh, then said, mock-sweet, "Ta-daaa… I was starting to think you were slow."
He cut the playfulness and growled, firm:
"You've got fifteen minutes to decide if you trust me, because in twenty the Organisation will walk into that café and take you in."
His voice slid to a whisper that raised goosebumps.
"Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Your timer starts now."