by Alessa Thorn
“That’s the room,” Athena hissed, eyes glassy as she stroked the screen. Silas placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Easy, Cub, show me,” he said, keeping his voice steady. Athena clicked on a photo, blowing it up to fill the screen.
It was an office with high ceilings and windows, dark furniture, and an antique fireplace. The walls were painted French blue.
There was a man in the photo, and he was named the curator, Odo de Tremelay. He would’ve been in his early sixties with a neatly pointed beard and small round glasses.
“Do you recognize the guy?” Silas asked.
Athena shook her head. “No. All of their faces are blurred in my memory.”
“It might not be Gadal, but I still think the gallery and exhibit are worth checking out,” Iz said, taking her laptop back. A variety of search engines popped up, and she typed in Odo’s name. “Hmm, it looks like a fake name as well.”
“What do you mean?” Athena asked.
“I keep getting a hit for a list of the names of Grand Masters of the Knights Templar,” Iz said, jumping pages too quickly for Silas to follow. “Here’s a full list. We have one Bernard de Tremelay and other for Odo de St. Amand. Whoever he is, our curator is dodgy with a fake name as well.”
Athena turned on the couch to look up at Silas. “What do you think, Zeus?”
“I don’t like it. The room, the names, all of it feels too obvious,” he said, rubbing at his stubble.
“Only because we know what we are looking for,” Izabella argued. “To someone who isn’t interested in Gnosticism, Cathars, or Templars, there would be nothing odd about any of it. We can see the obsession because we are also fixated on it. The exhibit opens in two days. I vote we go.”
“I have to see that room, Silas. I might remember something else if I do,” Athena added, and her blue eyes went icy. “I want to shake this curator by his ankles and see what comes loose. If the gallery used to be a private residence, he might know who used to own it. He has to know something.”
Silas still didn’t like it, but he knew when he was outvoted. “Okay, Iz, get to work. I want a floor plan of that gallery. Try and get into any of their security cameras you can. I’ll hustle the boys and organize some accommodation and holding places if we need them in St. Petersburg.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Athena whispered.
“Hope we aren’t walking into a trap, but then, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Silas replied.
Athena laughed. “We’ll see who traps who.”
23
Just for once, Silas wished that their search would take them somewhere warm and sunny. St. Petersburg was freezing fucking cold, snow falling steadily ever since they had arrived.
Deep down, he knew he wouldn’t see blue waters and red bikinis until every one of the assholes that had tortured Athena were rotting in the ground.
“You’re thinking about that beach again, aren’t you?” Izabella said from beside him. Her gloved hand was hanging tightly to his, much as it had been all day.
“I’m always thinking about the beach and the red bikini you’re going to wear for me,” he replied, brushing a snowflake off the tip of her nose.
Izabella laughed loud enough that strangers turned to stare at her. Silas loved that sound, and considering what they were going to do that night, he was relieved to hear it.
He wanted to put her on the first flight out of the city to get her far away from Gadal and whatever shit they might unearth in the gallery.
“You’re really fixated on that bikini, aren’t you?” she teased, bringing him out of his head.
“Can’t help it. You are ridiculously sexy with or without your kit on.” Silas wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “And I’m tired of being this fucking cold.”
Her eyes glittered with mischief. “Old bones and all that.”
“You didn’t seem to mind my old bone this morning,” he pointed out.
Silas didn’t know if they would get any decent time alone when they were on the job in Russia, so he had made her scream before they had left Istanbul. He told himself it was for luck and to calm his anxiety down.
“The rest of you isn’t so bad either. I just hope I don’t break your hip with my enthusiasm,” she quipped with a naughty grin.
“Keep up that cheek, and I’ll be breaking yours tonight, Silversmith.”
Izabella stopped, smile slipping as she pointed. “That’s the gallery there, Pleroma.”
Silas’s good mood faded when he looked over the gallery’s gray wrought iron facade. They were in the ritziest part of St. Petersburg, nicknamed The Golden Triangle. Silas had suspected nothing less from a rich psychopath.
The Neva River was on one side of them, which limited their roads out if they needed a quick getaway. Fuck. He liked this less and less.
Dante and Leo were out setting up a safe house in case their hotel got compromised, because the itch between Silas’s shoulder blades, warning him of danger, was getting worse and worse.
“There’s Kon and Athena,” Izabella said, and Silas caught his daughter’s face in the crowd. She looked drawn and angry, hands balled into fists as she stared at the building with murder in her eyes.
“Shit, she definitely recognizes it by the looks of things.”
Silas was going to intervene, even though they were all pretending to be tourists and not gathering together.
Kon moved in Athena’s line of sight and snapped a photo of them like they were just another holidaying couple. Her anger seemed to dissipate, and they headed back the way they came.
“Are you sure we should take her tonight?” Izabella asked, leaning into his side.
“You think we could stop her from going?”
“No, but we don’t need her pouncing on the curator and howling as she rips his throat out either.”
Silas grinned. “I don’t know. It would probably be the most entertaining thing that happened at such a stuffy event.”
Izabella cast her eyes to heaven. “You Edgeworths.”
“You love us.”
She squeezed his hand tight. “I do, which is why I don’t know if this is the best idea. And yes, I know it’s the only one, and the event is a good way to get access. I still don’t have to like it,” Izabella argued.
Silas cupped her face with his hands. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever the outcome, it will work out in the end. It always does.”
“I don’t want to lose her to them or have you get gunned down in the process.”
“If they take her, we will get her back. No one gets forgotten or left behind in this family,” he promised her. “You know this.”
“I know.” Izabella went to her tiptoes to kiss him. Silas wrapped her under his coat, holding her close and luxuriating in the feel of her pressed against him.
His gaze flicked up when a dark blue Mercedes stopped in front of the gallery. A tall man got out with a leather portfolio under his arm. A shorter, harassed-looking blonde man hurried out of the gallery to meet him.
“What’s wrong?” Izabella asked, following Silas’s gaze. She pulled out her phone and snapped a photo of the car. “That’s Odo, the curator. I’m sure of it. I’ve got the plates and will run them when we get back to the hotel.”
“It could be a patron, but I want to know whoever is in this gallery’s closest circle of VIPs.” Silas checked his watch. “Shit, we have to go and meet Kon and Athena. They’ll be back at the hotel by now.”
“Should I ask what mischief you and Kon are going to be up to?” she asked, looping her arm through his.
Silas’s mouth twitched. “Probably best if you didn’t.”
24
Nerves twisted Iz’s stomach into a tight ball. She checked her phone, and the app she had designed to copy another phone was ready to go.
The plan was if they spotted the curator, they would get close enough to steal his phone details and then get out. They would be able to track him and take him when there weren’t so ma
ny people around.
It was a safe plan, but she was still nervous as hell. She was usually holed up in a car or a hotel room somewhere when Athena and the others did the leg work.
Iz smoothed the skirt of her red dress for the hundredth time and hoped that she didn’t leave a sweat mark on it.
“Relax, you look banging. Silas is going to die when he sees you,” Athena said, sitting beside her in the taxi. She was dressed in an elegant suit, paired with a dark purple satin top and amethyst jewels that gave her outfit feminine touches. Iz could only guess how many knives she had hidden under her clothes.
“I feel a bit silly wearing a dress and heels, especially if you guys start a fight,” Iz replied.
“Would we do something like that?” Athena gave her a crooked grin. “Even if we do, no one will think you are involved. You are Gabriella Garcia, an art influencer and sexy señorita from Bilbao, remember? You need to be in a hot dress. I, on the other hand, am your long-suffering assistant and need to be in pants for the running you make me do.”
“If you say so, Cub.” Iz laughed. “You are enjoying make-believe far too much.”
Iz looked down at the dress and tried to feel like she belonged in it. She had bought it that afternoon while out with Athena. Silas was fixating on a red bikini, so Iz hadn’t been able to walk past the fiery piece. It was an off-the-shoulder gown that clung to her hips before ending in a swirling mermaid tail.
She hadn’t worn anything so elaborate in years, but how often did you get to infiltrate a exclusive gallery opening with a forged invitation? She touched the roses in her updo hairstyle, checking that they hadn’t started to slide out.
“Iz, really. Stop fidgeting. You look incredible,” Athena assured her and took her hand. “Silas is the luckiest guy in the world, and he knows it. Promise me, you will always take care of him, no matter what happens to me.”
“Please don’t talk like that, Cub. Nothing is going to happen to you,” Iz replied, hanging onto her.
“Promise me.”
Iz looked her directly in her icy blue eyes. “I promise, Athena.”
“Thank you.” Athena let out a tired sigh. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to die or anything, but I don’t know what we are up against. There are some fights that a knife can’t solve.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with Athena Edgeworth?” Iz demanded. “She’s never met a fight that she hasn’t been able to solve with a blade.”
Athena laughed softly. “True, though Liddell did have me that night in Scotland. I don’t know how to do magic, Iz. I don’t know how to fight it.”
“If I recall correctly, it was you throwing a knife and breaking Liddell’s protective circle that made it possible for Kon to get to him. You don’t need magic, Athena. You’re a bad enough bitch without it.”
“Aw, thanks, Mom,” Athena replied.
“Ancestors give me strength,” Iz prayed, rolling her eyes.
“Ask them to bring honor to us all while they are at it,” Athena quipped, and because she was in a mood, she hummed Mulan songs all the way to the gallery.
“I want to extract a promise out of you too,” Iz said as they pulled up. “Don’t do anything impulsive. I know these people did horrible things to you, but we have to be careful. If Gadal is here tonight, and we take him alive, we can get them all, Athena. Not just him. We need to make sure they can never hurt any other children again.”
Athena fidgeted in her chair. “I promise, but if shit starts to go sideways, I won’t just sit back and let him get away. I can’t, Iz. There are too many things I need to know.”
“Good enough…assistant,” Iz replied with a small smile.
Athena winked and got out of the car. She hurried to Iz’s side and opened her door. “Señorita Garcia, allow me to assist you,” she said, holding out her hand to help Iz step out without tripping on her skirts.
“Stay close. I will need your help tonight,” Iz said primly, and Athena struggled not to laugh. They headed up the elegant marble stairs to the gallery’s entranceway, and the security guards took their invitations from Athena, Iz doing her best to look bored. It was an effort. She loved art, and a part of her wished she was at an exhibit opening for pleasure and not a job.
They left their coats in the cloakroom, Athena fussing around Iz to make sure her hair and dress were neat before they stepped inside the foyer. The ceiling was draped with bolts of white silk, projections of eyes from different art pieces from around the world staring down on them.
“Welcome to Gnosis, where knowing ourselves and the past is the key to our future,” a woman’s disembodied voice said through the hidden speakers.
“Well, that’s just creepy,” Athena said, staring back at the eyes that gazed at her. They made their way through another set of doors and into the exhibit itself.
Waiters drifted between the patrons with trays of drinks and canapés. Iz could smell the money in the air, every attendee wearing expensive clothes and jewelry. One old dame was draped with so many diamonds, Iz was surprised she could stand upright.
The exhibit was a mixture of weapons, artifacts, ikons, paintings, and manuscripts. Iz tried her best not to get too distracted and miss the point of them being there. Every now and again, she would feel a slight thrum of power and knew that there had to be magical items in the mix.
“Three o’clock, try not to squeal or pass out,” Athena said from beside her. Iz turned and let out a small squeak. Silas and Kon were standing together, looking at swords in a glass case.
Silas in boots and jeans was great; Silas in a suit made her want to giggle like a giddy teenager. The black fabric hugged him to show off just how big he was.
He wasn’t blending into the crowd of fake rich people, even if he was meant to look like them. There was something about Silas that screamed danger, sex, and violence.
“Fuck me,” Iz said and realized she had said it out loud. She shook herself. “We are lucky women.”
“Sure are,” Athena replied, her blue eyes looking at Kon like she wanted to tear him apart with her teeth. Knowing Athena, she probably would.
Iz felt the moment Silas’s eyes found her. He drank her in, and a glazed look came over his face. He was so still that Kon flexed, looking for the threat. He saw them, and his dark eyes twinkled in amusement. A small smile appeared in the corner of his mouth, and Athena growled softly.
The plan wasn’t to mingle with each other, but damn, Iz wanted to do something impulsive like rub herself all over Silas before dragging him off like a cavewoman.
“I need alcohol. I’m going to the bar,” Iz said quickly, tearing her gaze away from Silas.
“Get me a vodka. I got a sword to look at,” Athena replied, heading for the case Kon was standing next to.
Iz walked slowly through the crowd towards the bar, the hair on the back of her neck rising. She didn’t dare turn around, even though she knew she was being stalked. Iz waited at the end of the bar, her eyes focused ahead.
Warmth spread down her spine as a deep voice whispered behind her, “I hope you’re not too attached to that dress.”
Iz smiled but didn’t turn around. “Why? Don’t you like it?”
“I like it so much I’m going to do illegal things to you in it tonight,” Silas promised. Warm fingers brushed over her lower back. “And there isn’t going to be much of a dress left by the time I’m done.”
Goosebumps rolled down Iz’s arms. “As long as you keep that suit on while you are doing it,” she replied, mouth dry.
“Kon insisted I wear one. That’s what we were up to this afternoon,” Silas said. “Seeing your face makes the hassle worth it.”
Iz wanted to press back into him, feel his arms around her. Her attention snapped back to the bartender smiling at her, and she ordered two vodka sodas.
“Dante and Leo seem to be mingling well,” Silas commented.
Iz glanced to her right to see a tall man with black, curly hair speaking with them. The mo
re he talked, the deeper the frown Dante got.
“Oh, God, you don’t think that guy is hitting on Leo? Because we don’t need Dante knocking anyone out tonight,” Iz said and grabbed her drinks.
“They can handle it,” Silas replied and smiled as she turned. “You really are the most beautiful woman in the room.”
Iz was sure she was as red as her dress. “I look forward to you proving it to me tonight.”
Silas’s eyes glowed emerald. “I’ll do that and more, Silversmith. I promise.”
Dante noticed the guy staring at Leo from the minute they walked into the room. He was sharply dressed like the other patrons, but the look in his eye was so cold and predatory that Dante was immediately on edge.
“Okay, so tell me who is carrying in this room,” Dante said, turning away from the man.
“A part of your ongoing training?” Leo asked with a small smile.
“It is a good skill to have to spot who has weapons and if they are going to be a threat.”
“Fine. The big guy by the door,” Leo replied.
“That’s a security guard. Of course, he’s got a gun on him.” Dante rolled his eyes. “Come on, you can be pretty and smart at the same time if you try.”
Leo straightened his cuffs in a move that shouldn’t have been sexy but had Dante’s dick twitching. “But I am pretty and smart already.”
“One definitely more than the other. Come on, who else?” Dante pressed. Leo nodded to an old woman with a cane. “Definitely her.”
Dante bit down a smile. “She’s like a hundred years old.”
“And she’s wearing about five million dollars’ worth of jewels. She will have a weapon on her. I guarantee it.”
Dante looked at her again. “What do you reckon? Sword cane?”
“That would be a good way to get it in. She probably has used it to cut the ears off her rivals for centuries,” Leo replied. Dante laughed softly, enjoying the game even if it was meant to be a learning exercise.
“Buongiorno, fratellino,” a voice interrupted them. Leo’s smile vanished as the man who had been watching them earlier came to stand in front of them.
