“Do you think the FBI will figure it out this time? That I left them a web?” “Maybe. Maybe not. I dunno. But I am sure about one thing.” “Let me guess. That we should call it a draw.” Rowan chuckles. “No, love.” He drops an arm across my shoulders, and I lean into his warmth as he presses a kiss to the crown of my head. “That they’ll marvel at the Orb Weaver. My goddess of chaos.”
