“Who’s Bishop?”

He didn’t even look up. “Part of my team.”

I checked my mirrors, and made a lane change from crawling to meandering.

“Your team?”

My tone brought his head up and he scowled. “Who else did you think

Delacourt would call in for support?”

I kept my attention on the traffic and managed an awkward shrug.

“Considering all I know about this unit is that Delacourt runs it, it’s filled with

psychics—three of whom are you, Tag, and a fortune teller called Risia—I don’t

have clue. Hence, the question. It’s not like there’s been time to get the skinny on everything.”

And wow, guess I was more bothered about not knowing who I was working

with than I realized. Maybe it was time to correct that little detail as I was stuck in a car with nothing more pressing than making sure my front fender didn’t kiss

someone’s bumper.

When Kayden started talking it was clear he was thinking along the same

lines. “There are three teams ranging from eight to ten apiece. Each one answers to its team leader. The team leaders answer to Delacourt.”

“Do you know who she answers to?”

“Ultimately the POTUS.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, smartass, I think I could figure that much out. I

meant before him.”

“I know you did, but that’s not something I can answer right now.”

And why did that sting? Our meandering lane became a parking lot, so I

looked at him.

He shook his head. “You know better. Until you’re brought on officially, you

get what you see.”

My fingers tapped on the steering wheel as I turned my attention back to the

road, the rush of resentment fading under logic. “Yeah, but it was worth a shot.”

Traffic began to move. “I’m going to assume you’re a team leader, and Tag’s on

your team since you both showed up together. Where does Risia fit in?”

“She’s an official, government-sanctioned consultant for PSY-IV.”

“A contractor?”

“Her ability makes her worth a pretty penny,” Kayden said. “She’s got a very

impressive client list.”

“And there’s no conflict of interest there?” The more I found out about Risia,

the more curious I became. Maybe when this was over, I’d get a chance to satisfy that curiosity.

“Not that I’m aware of.” He paused. “Did Delacourt offer you a job?”

I thought about our conversation in the parking lot in Sedona, and my humor

disappeared. I wasn’t sure I wanted what Delacourt offered, so I said, “No.”

He angled his body, and I felt the weight of his gaze. “Liar.”

His accusation lit a flare of temper, but I ignored it. “At this time, we’ve agreed to help each other until Ellery is stopped. That’s it.”

“Sorry, don’t believe you. You were under consideration before the joint

mission, so I’m finding it hard to believe she wouldn’t make you the offer now.”

I wasn’t prepared for the rush of bitterness that sharpened my voice. “Why?

Because you all came back and said, ‘oops, sorry Cyn,’ so now I should be

happy drinking the damn psychic Kool-Aid?”

He sighed. “Shit happens. You’re going to have to forgive and forget. Tag and I explained what happened. We can’t change the past.”

No shit, Sherlock. His dismissive attitude rubbed me the wrong way. Of the

two of us, did he think I didn’t know that? In the last, brutal forty-eight hours the past had come back and bitch-slapped my life into a giant mess. My harsh laugh

slashed through air. “Did you forget who you’re talking to, Kayden? I get it.

Really, I do, but there’s a huge difference between forgiving and forgetting. I trusted once and look how well that worked out. Excuse me for being a bit cautious.”

Our exit came up and I bullied my way over to it.