Julian Thorne rubbed his temples, leaning back against the plush leather interior of the town car as it sped through the rain-slicked streets of Boston. His head was pounding with a dull, rhythmic ache.

"Sir, we should be at the residence in five minutes," his driver, Thomas, called back through t

"Are you absolutely sure you should be out of bed?"

Harper Quinn’s voice cut through the rhythmic, mechanical hum of the large-format printer in the corner of her cramped spare bedroom.

Clara Vance didn’t look up from the sprawling architectural blueprint pinned to the makeshift drafting table.

Julian Thorne stood up so fast his heavy leather chair scraped violently against the hardwood floor.

"Clara," he said again, his voice thick with a desperate, naked relief that made Marcus flinch beside him. Julian took a step around the table, his hand reaching out. "Oh my god. Where have you bee