by Alessa Thorn
His brother? Dante looked between them quickly. They definitely had the same dark eyes and high cheekbones. Leo was lean, but his brother was built strong and wore it in a way that people felt when he got close. He had a closely trimmed goatee and a smile that Dante knew would drop pants wherever he aimed it.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Rodrigo?” Leo demanded.
“Is that the way you greet your big brother after years of no contact?” Rodrigo took Leo by the shoulders and kissed both of his cheeks. “Who is this? Your new boyfriend? I thought you would have outgrown that proclivity by now.”
“I’m his bodyguard, not his proclivity, so please take a step back, sir,” Dante replied, his temper flaring hot. The muscles in Leo’s jaw feathered, but Rodrigo only laughed at them.
“You’re his bodyguard? Unlikely. Leonardo doesn’t need protection. He probably just wanted something rugged to look at for the night. He always did like the rough and common sort.” Dante smiled, getting ready to show the prick just how rough and common he could be.
“Why are you in St. Petersburg?” Leo pressed, not biting his brother’s bait.
“I have business here tonight. Something you would be a part of if you hadn’t run away from the family like a spoiled brat. There are bigger things than your little rebellion at play.” Rodrigo’s face turned serious, and he switched to Italian. “Come home before we come for you.”
Dante knew enough Italian for him to understand the threat perfectly. He wanted to punch the guy out for using that tone with Leo like he was some wayward pup on a leash.
“I am not going back. Find someone else to do your dirty work,” Leo hissed back in English.
Rodrigo clicked his tongue. “Only you would see marriage to a beautiful woman as a burden.”
Dante’s stomach turned. Leo was engaged? To a woman? His hands curled into fists, wanting to react and not being able to.
“If she’s so beautiful, you fucking marry her then,” Leo growled.
“The jet is at Pulkovo Airport. I expect you to be on it tomorrow morning by 10 a.m.” Rodrigo brushed some invisible lint off Leo’s shoulder. “Don’t make me come and fetch you, baby boy. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to your handsome friend now, would you?”
Leo’s face shifted to the cold killer Dante had seen in Pokrovskoye, making him move back instinctively.
“Don’t threaten what’s mine, Rodrigo. You won’t like what happens next.”
“Ah, there is the Colleoni assassino I remember. I wondered where you had hidden your fangs, Leone.” Rodrigo’s smile widened when Leo snarled out a filthy curse. “10 a.m. Don’t be late. Enjoy your final night of freedom, baby boy.” Rodrigo raised his glass at them before moving back into the crowd.
“I need to get out of here,” Leo said, voice cracking as his pissed-off facade slipped.
“This way,” Dante replied, his hand grabbing the sleeve of his jacket. He led Leo out a hall and into another room, pausing in front of a door labeled as Staff Only.
Dante had pickpocketed one of the cleaners earlier that day on the street in case of such an emergency. He swiped a card over a silver panel and tugged Leo into a storage room.
Leo pulled off his glasses and tossed them against the concrete floor, sending glass and plastic everywhere.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed, his whole body shaking.
“Want to tell me what that was about?” Dante asked calmly.
“Why can’t they just leave me alone?” Leo began to pace, visibly shaking as he ran his hands through his hair. “Fucking Rodrigo. Why here? Why in this city?”
“Doesn’t matter. You need to calm down, Leo. We aren’t here for your brother tonight.”
“Don’t tell me to be calm! You have no idea who he is…who I am!”
Dante forced himself to shrug. “Doesn’t matter. We have our own business here tonight that has nothing to do with your argument with your family.”
“You don’t get it. They are worse than the mafia, Dante. They are going to have people up our asses if I don’t go with him.” Leo’s voice strained with rising panic. He was starting to babble, which worried Dante more than the threats.
“Breathe, Leo,” he demanded.
Leo shook his head. “He’s going to take me back to them. I can’t go back. I vowed I never would. I can’t stop him. He’s going to—”
Dante didn’t think. He grabbed Leo by the face with both hands and kissed him. Leo made a surprised, baffled sound before his body shifted like liquid. He slammed Dante against the wall in a quick move, hand gripping his throat.
Dante was waiting for Leo to punch him, but instead, he took control of the embrace and deepened the kiss.
Holy fuck. He did not think this through.
Leo’s lips were dominating him, and Dante was dying. The kiss was furious, Leo’s mouth taking and teeth biting, determined to fight him like he always did.
Dante groaned when Leo’s tongue stroked into his mouth, his spare hand sliding under Dante’s jacket and gripping his back.
“Fuck!” Leo snarled suddenly, pulling his mouth away from him. He was still pinning Dante to the wall so tightly their chests touched. “What did you do that for?”
“I…had to stop your panic attack somehow?” Dante said, swallowing hard. He tightened his grip on Leo’s face so he couldn’t pull away further. “But now that I have your attention, listen closely, Leonardo. No one is fucking taking you anywhere against your will. I don’t care who you used to be or who your family is. You belong to us now, not that fucker out there. Understand?”
Some of the worry seeped from Leo’s dark eyes, and he finally nodded. “I understand. Let’s go and get this over with so I can get out of this city and figure out a way to deal with my family.”
“I’ll have you out of Russia by midnight. I promise.” And because he doubted he would get another chance, Dante stroked his thumbs over Leo’s cheeks once more before letting him go.
Leo eased off him, and the loss of his weight pinning him left Dante dizzy. His hands were shaking as he smoothed his jacket.
Leo reached over and straightened Dante’s tie. “You’re a better kisser than I thought you would be, but maybe it’s not the best way to deal with an angry man.”
“It was that or a blow job,” Dante’s stupid mouth said before he could check himself.
Leo shook his head with an exasperated smile. “Not enough time, gattino. We are on a mission, remember? Think it through, eh?” He patted Dante’s cheek before opening the door and stepping back out into the exhibit.
Dante released a stunned breath before hurrying after him. After that kiss, he would follow Leo anywhere, even into a war with his dangerous ass family. Fuck, he was so fucking fucked.
25
Izabella was halfway through her drink when security and museum staff started to herd everyone into a large room. A podium stood on one end, and the patrons gathered around it, murmuring.
“What’s happening?” Athena asked tensely, eyes scanning the entranceways.
“Probably just a speech. They are common on opening nights,” Iz reassured her. She spotted Kon and Silas a few meters to their left, Dante and Leo coming in on their right.
“Wonder what’s happening with Hill. He looks pissed,” Athena commented, ashen brows drawing together.
“Leo probably put him in his place. I swear they bicker like old women.” Iz could see that they both enjoyed it too, even when they infuriated each other.
An awareness shivered through her, and she looked up to see the curator stepping up to the podium.
“That’s him! That’s Odo de Tremelay,” Iz whispered.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d personally like to thank you for joining us from all over the world tonight. Nothing can unite people like art and history…” he began, his voice a calm and deep lecturer’s timbre. He had the slightest French accent that made it even more attractive.
Athena gripped her arm tight. “That’s…”<
br />
“What’s wrong?” Iz asked, looking about her to make sure no one was watching Athena’s reaction.
“His voice. I know it, Iz. I know it.”
“Okay, that’s a good thing. It means we are on the right path…”
Athena shook her head. “You don’t get it. That fucker’s voice whispers in my dreams. I can’t deal with this.”
Iz had never seen Athena scared of anything, but she was turning gray with paralyzing fear. Iz glanced towards Kon and sent a small pulse of magic in the air. Kon’s head instantly whipped towards her, and she gestured at Athena.
On the stage, de Tremelay’s speech faltered. He cleared his throat with an apologetic smile and picked up where he left off, speaking about what the concept of gnosis meant to the ancient Greeks.
Kon moved through the crowd, coming up behind Athena and wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Let’s go and get some air, güzelim,” he whispered in her ear.
Athena seemed to come back to herself. “Kon. Get me out of here.”
“Okay, love. This way. Iz?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got this,” Iz assured them. Kon steered Athena around and out of the room. Silas looked worried like he was debating whether or not to follow them. Iz shook her head a little, and he turned back towards the stage. He was watching de Tremelay with a vicious kind of intensity that Iz had only ever seen when Silas was at his most murderous.
Fuck. Not here. The Edgeworths were great at many things, but hiding their emotions when they were pissed wasn’t one of them.
Iz needed to get close to de Tremelay to copy his phone. Even if he wasn’t Gadal, he was definitely someone who had fucked with Athena, and Iz wasn’t about to let him slip through their fingers.
The problem was that he was the star of the night, and getting close to him would be a challenge.
Iz couldn’t push any closer to the stage to get her app within range, and she didn’t want to make a scene.
The pulse. It had only been a tiny spark of magic to get Kon’s attention, but de Tremelay had obviously felt something. Iz realized she didn’t have to seek him out; he would find her.
Iz waited until the speech was done and walked casually back into the exhibit. There were a lot of interesting pieces in it, and she settled on the one item that she could feel the most power coming off.
It was a long glass cabinet with a series of handwritten papers by Aleister Crowley and Austin Osman Spare.
Iz pulled her phone out of her clutch and did a quick search on Spare. He had been a British occultist, a student of Crowley’s at one time. Some considered him to be the grandfather of chaos magic and had used a gnosis state to empower his sigil works.
Just the kind of guy Gadal and his friends would be interested in, Iz thought as she studied a page of sigil drawings. They seemed to be regular drawings when she looked at some of them, but others made her head swim and vision blur.
“Fascinating, aren’t they?” a voice said behind her. Iz jumped in fright. Odo de Tremelay was right behind her. His smile was charming, but up close, he seemed almost plain. His dark hair was streaked in gray, and his eyes were a pale blue. He was handsome in a conventional way and would’ve been utterly forgettable if it wasn’t for his alluring voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t. I was just lost in the moment. Oh, you’re the curator. I loved your speech,” Iz said, flustered. She casually pressed the copying app on her phone before tucking it into her purse and pulling out one of her fake business cards. “I’m Gabriella Garcia. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Odo de Tremelay took the card without looking at it and slid it into his breast pocket. “And how are you liking the exhibit?”
“It is a fascinating collection. It’s got everything from Christian cults to chaos magic. Gnosis was a brilliant concept to bring it all together,” she complimented him. She gestured to the cabinet beside her. “I’ve always been skeptical of Crowley and his followers, but there is something about these that I can’t quite put my finger on.” Iz felt like she was babbling, but de Tremelay wasn’t moving away. He tilted his head slightly as he studied her.
“Can I ask what you feel when you look at them?” he said softly. Iz wanted to lie, but she needed more time for her app to work, and she needed his focus on her.
“You are going to make fun of me if I do,” she said, looking up at him from under her lashes.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. The purpose of the exhibit is to invoke emotion in its viewers. So tell me, Mademoiselle Garcia, what do you feel?” his voice dropped another octave, and the back of her neck tingled in warning. There was something about him that was…hypnotic.
Iz licked her lips nervously. “These ones make me feel disorientated. The lines of the sigils sort of blur if I look at them too long.”
“And why do you think that is? Don’t be shy. I really am interested,” de Tremelay pressed.
“Okay, but you are not allowed to call me crazy.” Iz laughed softly and tried to get the nervous hitch out of her voice. “The chaos magicians believed you had to be able to reach a meditative state of ‘No Mind’ to channel magic. They called that state gnosis. If I had to guess, when Austin Osman Spare was drawing these sigils, he reached the proper state of gnosis to get them to work. It is why they are different to the others.”
The smile on de Tremelay’s face was utterly delighted. “Very good, Izabella. I didn’t think there would be any practitioners here tonight, and yet here you are.”
“I’m not into chaos magic….” Iz faltered, realizing too late that he had called her by her real name. “Excuse me, I have to go —”
“Don’t move,” he commanded. Iz froze as magic wrapped around her, thick as molasses. She tried to struggle against it, but it was like her body had stopped listening to her. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for Silas.
“Now, I really am in a conundrum,” de Tremelay said, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip. “I knew you were a criminal and a hacker, but I didn’t expect you to have magical talent. I suppose I should have, considering your ancestors.”
Iz opened her mouth to scream, and his magic snapped over her mouth like an invisible hand. Breathe and think, breathe and think. He couldn’t hurt her in that room, not without people noticing. She just had to wait him out.
“It can’t be helped, Izabella. You’re coming with me, though you should know, I do regret not getting to you first. You would’ve been an excellent pupil,” de Tremelay continued, his arm slipping over hers. “If only you hadn’t been so important to Silas Edgworth. You see, my dear, he took something precious to me, and I want him to feel the same amount of loss as I did before he dies. Now, come along before your guard dogs notice you are missing. One foot after the other, and please smile. You have such a pretty smile.”
Iz’s mouth stretched wide as her feet unlocked and were made to follow him. Panic rushed through her, knowing she couldn’t do a thing to stop him.
Think Iz! she commanded herself. The strap of her clutch purse slipped down her wrist. He would take her phone off her straight away so it couldn’t be tracked.
They don’t need your phone, because they will have his. Iz prayed that the app had finished hacking de Tremelay’s phone and let the purse slip down the folds of her skirt and onto the floor.
Iz searched desperately for Silas as de Tremelay turned her away from the cabinet and drew her through the crowd. She looked up at the cameras, hoping that Leo would be able to follow her no matter where de Tremelay took her.
“You really are lovely, you know? The kind of woman who could get any man she wants, so I do have to wonder what a thug like Edgeworth did to get your loyalty,” he said, smiling and nodding at his guests before guiding her to a gray and silver door. “I look forward to hearing that story on the flight.”
Flight? Iz struggled against the hold he had on her. She reached for her magic and could feel it, but her hands wouldn’t move t
o channel it.
De Tremelay opened the door and, with a charming smile, pushed her into darkness.
26
Silas kept watch on the gallery doors, hoping to see Athena and Kon come back. Fuck, the look on Athena’s face had been utter devastation. She had never looked like that before.
She’s okay. Kon will look after her.
Silas would never admit that releasing Athena into Kon’s care was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do as a father. They had only ever had each other, and now Kon was the man she was relying on. It was a good thing, he reminded himself.
Silas wasn’t going to be around forever. The guys in his line of work rarely retired and grew old somewhere.
He had never thought about retiring at all until Izabella had turned him upside down. It was even worse now.
God, that dress. Silas searched for the splash of red in the crowd, needing to see her even if he couldn’t talk to her.
Silas frowned, unable to spot her. He took out his phone and messaged Dante. Do you have eyes on Izabella?
No. She was in the same part of the gallery as you. I saw her two minutes ago, looking at books or something in a glass case.
“Fuck,” Silas muttered, looking around for manuscripts. Like most galleries, the place was a rabbit warren of rooms and corridors. He rang Dante, his anxiety spiking.
“Did you find her?” Dante answered.
“Not yet. What glass case were you talking about?” Silas demanded, trying to keep his voice low.
“West side of the room. Looks like coffins along the blue wall,” Dante replied. “I swear she was there not two minutes ago. Maybe she went to the restroom?”
A group of laughing Chinese women moved out of the way, and Silas spotted the cases behind them. He moved as casually as he could, searching around for anything red. His eyes snagged on a lump of material, half-hidden under the cabinet. He hurried to pick it up, his heart almost stopping.
“Silas? You there?” Dante asked.
“I…I found her purse. Get over here, now.” Silas hung up, his pulse leaping to his throat. There was no way Izabella would drop her bag and not notice. He opened it and found her phone, some cash and a tube of lipstick.
