I put the dead phone into my coat pocket.

My hand was shaking slightly, though I did not let Luca see it.

“Boss?” Luca asked again, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel.

“It was Marcus,” I said.

Luca did not reply immediately, but his jaw clenched.

Marcus had been dead to the world for a decade, a ghost we all assumed had succumbed to the lake or a shallow grave.

“He said they are at the harbor,” I continued, looking out at the falling snow.

“The private docks near the old municipal filtration plant.”

“We have to go now,” a quiet voice spoke from the back seat.

I turned my head.

Isabella was awake, her dark eyes reflecting the faint green glow of the dashboard lights.

“I thought you were asleep,” I said.

“I cannot sleep, Dante,” she said, leaning forward.

“Not while that boy’s mother is still in Kane’s hands.”

Beside her, young Eli Mercer was curled up, his small chest rising and falling in deep, exhausted slumber.

He had fought so hard to find me, and now he was safe in the warmth of our vehicle, but his mother was running out of time.