The image was completed by a soft-hue pink dress that had a scoop neckline, a layer of white lace, and a hemline that fitted just above her knees; the rest was the same hue of pink tulle that fell to the floor. There was no jewelry anywhere, even on her hands. My heart ached because I knew that my mother had kept up with Peter Francis, and if this was who my father had married, then my mother had compared herself to this woman. And there was no comparison. My mother would have won, hands down, for the mere fact that she was Chrissy Hayes, and no one could compete against Chrissy Hayes.

I readied myself, figuring she’d overheard me, and I waited to see what she’d say.

Her mouth parted. She was studying me up and down, all over, and damn it, I knew I was going to break first.

“I’m only here for … you know.” She knew, right? How could she not? I jerked my gaze to the floor. It was so much easier this way. “And, uh, as soon as they catch ’em, the Arcane people, I’ll go. I’m not here to upset anyone or disturb nothing.” And I couldn’t talk, either. Proper grammar be damned. “I was trying to find Kash’s villa again and I got lost.”

She continued to stare at me. Not a wrinkle marred her face, until thirty seconds later she pointed behind her. “Walk until the T, turn right, and keep going. There’s a back door by the pool. You can skirt around the fence and hook onto the sidewalk that goes past the golf course. Keep straight and Kash’s villa will be in front of you.”

Of course. That was easy enough. Chances of getting lost were 100 percent, but I was going with it.

“What’s your name, dear?”

She didn’t know my name? I considered lying, because integrity, but I heard myself answering the truth.

“Bailey.” And because no one could compare to my mother, I added, “Chrissy Hayes is my mother.”

I slipped away after that, but I wasn’t sure if I imagined that soft gasp from her or not.

I didn’t stick around to check.

FIFTEEN

I was frothing at the mouth. Literal drool was sliding out.

Getting back to Kash’s place, finding it empty, and finding a desktop left on the kitchen table was a eureka moment for me. My hands were almost shaking from the anticipation of my own little office put in place in my bedroom, and knowing I could disappear in mere moments.

I had to set everything up first.

Finding a small table in the basement, I hauled that sucker up two flights of stairs. The chair was next, which was a bit of a struggle. I was tired from the desk. The chair, easier, but it had wheels. That meant back twisting, and the last time I had worked out was never. Once I had both those in place, the table and chair pushed up against one of the corners, the computer was third. That was just placing and plugging. I’d deal with a Wi-Fi connection, but that was the last and final moments before hackerdom.

Necessities. I needed them.

Headphones, preferably a headset with a thirty-six-inch cord. They were the cheapest on the market, but they were the best sellers for a reason. The fancy ones stopped working after six months or so. Then snacks and drinks. A normal all-dayer/nighter, I’d want coffee or energy drinks. Energy drinks were preferred, but after raiding Kash’s kitchen, I saw he wasn’t a fan of the stuff. That was something I needed to note to ask for later. Until then, coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

Snagging a bag of chips, some candy, I was ready to go.

Everything was spread out around me. The snacks had to be on the table. The drinks on the left side, mid-keyboard location. The snacks were just beyond the screen, left side as well. I needed the mouse on the right.

And last, clothes.

I was going the comfy route. Soft athletic pants, a tank top, sports bra, and my hair pulled back in a messy bun. It was the best uniform.

After that, the internet connection.

Pulling up the networks, I could guess which was the main security one, the one Kash might use as his own, and a few other aliases. Who knew the landscaping department for my father had its own internet connection. The kitchen staff, too.

Skimming down the line, I clicked on Hotboi2012. Gut was telling me that little Cyclone had his own network, and as I right-clicked on that bitch, I was right about another thing. He hadn’t secured it. I was able to connect the backpath.

I shook my head, tsking, “Little boy, little boy. You’ve got some things to learn still.” I took his IP address, because he let that sit out there all unattended. Anything I did, they’d think it was him. That didn’t feel right. Crap. I was moving the mouse before I thought about it, and I clicked into the network I was pretty sure Marie used. I’d use her IP address, even though I had plans to hack her. I’d just deal with it.