I leaned back in my seat, crossing one leg over the other, my fingers tapping idly against the table as I let Marceaux’s words settle.
Amanda was desperate. That meant she was dangerous, but it also meant she was reckless. She’d slip up, and when she did, I would be there to catch her by the throat.
"Any leads on where she’s operating from?" I asked.
Marceaux exhaled through his nose, his expression turning contemplative. "She’s been careful—smarter than I gave her credit for, honestly. She’s using intermediaries, covering her tracks well. But..." He trailed off, swirling his whiskey in thought.
I arched a brow. "But?"
He smirked, tilting his glass toward me slightly. "She’s still human. And humans? They have habits. Patterns. Weaknesses."
I leaned forward. "And you’ve found hers?"
