"Got a tablet or phone with a data plan?" he asked.
"I'm calling you on my burner, but yeah, I've got my full kit."
"So what you need is a micro SD to micro USB reader, if your phone will take that. Then Dropbox, and share it with me, and you're good. If it copies."
"What do you mean, 'if it copies?'" Levi repeated, turning so that he had the girl in view again. "It's on the card. Of course it will copy."
"Look, if you bring it here, I guarantee that I'll be able to copy it. But there are ways to make standard readers ignore data. It's mostly so people don't copy over files that are needed to make cameras use a card right and things like that, and so the important stuff isn't lost if they reformat it, but that kind of data's invisible through a regular reader."
Levi let out a puff of air. "Great. Fabulous. So I can either try to make it all the way to your dungeon of paranoia, or I can just take a little trip to the store, like I don't have people on my ass wanting my head, and take a gamble on whether I can use a card reader with it."
"You could always mail it," Beane suggested.
"Right. Let me do that. That totally won't get intercepted at any point along the route."
"Security through obscurity really does work most of the time," Beane said.
"Yeah, except when it doesn't." Levi shook his head. "All right. We'll try the reader. If that doesn't work, we'll be coming to you. Don't shoot us when we get there."
"Speaking of that 'we'-"
"Yeah, not going to talk about it," Levi said, realizing only as Beane pointed it out what pronoun he'd been using. "Hope I don't see you soon."
"Sure thing," Beane said, and he hung up.
There was only one more thing to do right then. Levi steeled himself for it as he switched the burner in his hand for his pocket knife. Being a werewolf had many advantages, among them rapid healing. Unfortunately, that particular skill had developed-or had been designed, depending on who you talked to-without regard to the realities of modern weapons.
His skin had healed almost immediately upon the bullet entering it. And as the muscles beneath had knit back together, they had pushed the bullet upward, until it lay uncomfortably just beneath the surface with no way out.
There was only one way to get rid of it now. He flicked the knife open with his thumb and looked over at Harper, who was leaning against the door of the car, watching him.