by Amy Lane
“That’s good to hear,” Felix told him warmly. “Danny, what else?”
“Well, Torrance was coming anyway, but now he’s part of the job. We need more papers for Soderburgh. I want to install him as a visiting head of security, and I need to find Stirling a place he can park the brand-new tech van. How’s that coming along, Stirling?”
“Great!” Stirling said, clearly excited about the vehicle that looked like a delivery van but housed enough surveillance and computer equipment to take over a small country. “I was hoping Josh could look it over and see if there was anything I missed. Are you up for it, Josh?”
The lack of answer surprised them—Josh had been excited too.
But now he snored softly as he sat, hands clasped across his chest.
There was a moment of quiet, and then Danny spoke again.
“Felix, you need to make sure the tech van has a comfortable cot, yes?”
“Indeed,” Felix said, his voice strained. “That’s my number-one priority.”
“Then let’s make sure we have papers and parking permits, etcetera, for Chuck as well,” Danny said. “I know he’s supposed to drive the van and get Josh and Stirling out if anything goes amok, but you know what? He was quite useful last time. I don’t think we should limit his options.”
“That’s mighty kind, sir,” Chuck said with a grin. “I’ll try to do you proud.”
Danny winked at him. “I have no doubts.”
There were a few details to cover after that, but as the meeting drew to a close, Hunter turned to Grace so they could go up to bed and found him sitting next to Josh on the couch, his head on Josh’s shoulder.
He waited a moment, expecting a surge of jealousy to hit him, but instead he remembered how hard Josh had fought to run after Grace that night he’d disappeared into the rain.
“You’re not jealous, are you?” Felix asked, proving once again how he could run a news network and a multinational conglomeration with the force of his will. His knowledge of people was gut-deep and undeniable.
“No, sir,” Hunter said softly. “They’re…. It’s almost like you can see them both as grade school kids every time they get near each other. It doesn’t matter if they’re bitching or sleeping or daring each other to do something stupid. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Felix nodded. “Dylan has been—always—something of an enigma to us. But the one thing we’ve never doubted is how much he loves Josh.”
Hunter thought of his parents, who would never know of their son’s life, and of his brothers, who had assumed that drinking beer on Friday nights was as good as life got.
“They’re lucky,” he said. “Both of them.”
“I hope so,” Felix told him gruffly. “Josh has a lot of weeks of treatment to go.”
Hunter glanced at them, making sure Grace wasn’t listening. “Why are you letting him go ahead with this?” he asked.
Felix sighed. “When he was little, he wanted brothers and sisters, you know. Lots of them.” A corner of his mouth lifted wistfully. “We told him he’d have to settle for an Uncle Danny, because not many people had one of those. But Uncle Danny was secret—I think he may have told Dylan, but I’m not sure if anyone else knew. And then, when he was ten, Danny….”
“Disappeared,” Hunter said, because Josh had told him that Danny had left—probably to get sober—and that he’d left a hole in the household.
“Yes,” Felix said. “And it was my fault. He needed to live in the sunlight, and I was keeping him in the shadows. But once he came back and Josh had all of you, I think… I think he wanted that family he imagined when he was a child. The big happy one where there were lots of kids to go on adventures with him.”
“So you’re giving it to him,” Hunter said, his heart swelling with understanding.
“It’s all we’ve got,” Felix said, his voice growing thick. He turned away and went to hug Danny from behind as Danny spoke to Chuck. Danny broke off abruptly and turned in Felix’s arms, hugging him tight, and Hunter looked back to where Grace showed no sign of moving.
With a sigh, Hunter squeezed in between Grace and the arm of the couch, and pulled out his phone.
He had a book to read and Grace pressed next to him. There was nothing in particular he had to do for the rest of the night.
Dance 10, Heist 3
GRACE PULLED his breathable microfiber face mask over his head, batting his eyelashes to make sure they cleared. Josh had ordered this thing specially made when they were in high school, after Grace almost got caught stealing that one girl’s hot curlers. The eyeholes and nosehole were translucent microfiber. As long as Grace wore gloves and a turtleneck, anyone catching a fleeting glimpse of him couldn’t even tell his gender.
“How do I look?” he asked Josh, who, contrary to all the coddling people had been trying to give him over the last week, was pacing in front of the readouts in the tech van like a cat.
Josh glanced up, face pale but composed, and nodded. “You look like an asshole who went shopping at Thieves-R-Us, like you do every time we have a job. Got your earbud in?”
“No.”
Stirling hit a button, and the feedback almost blew his brains out the side of his head.
“You asshole!” Grace complained, but Stirling gave him a bored look.
“Try to squirrel down,” he said, “and give us straight answers. This isn’t the same as the last couple of jobs, all nice in a building and shit. There are going to be places we can’t see you. There are big corridors filled with natural light, and the only way for you to get in and out is the ventilation system. I would rather your desiccated corpse not get found in a ventilation shaft in ten years, and all anyone can remember is the smell.”
Grace knew his eyes went wide behind the mask. “You got mean,” he said. “Josh, when did Stirling get mean?”
“You drove him to it,” Josh deadpanned. “Good job, Stirling. Chuck, you got your tux?”
Chuck appeared from the front of the van, where he’d been doing a theater-worthy quick change. “Yessir.”
“Okay—you’re on.”
They’d refined Grace’s basic plan to the extent that Chuck was going to go cause a ruckus at the front entrance of the gala, pulling the security guards away from the east wing, where Grace was going to scale the wall so he could get in through a service door on the roof.
Danny had almost performed a miracle in deactivating the alarm on the service door. He really had no business in that part of the museum.
After Chuck got thrown out on his ear, he was going to stand guard over the coms van, getting Josh and Stirling out of danger if any came their way.
Hunter and Molly were working catering, both of them equipped with camera feeds to better capture the faces of the people who went back into the secret auction. Torrance—per Danny—was working as MC for the gala, and Soderburgh was on call to security to run interference for Grace and Chuck so Danny could take the handoff from whomever had possession of the gem—probably Grace—after which, it had been decided, he would hand it to his contact at Interpol.
Sergei Kadjic’s little gems of infobombs had wreaked enough havoc around the globe.
Nobody had met Liam Craig, the Interpol contact, yet, but Danny seemed to hold a high opinion of him, and that was really all they needed.
After the distraction that got the job done, the goal was to be invisible and stay that way, and Grace was good with that.
“Okay, everyone,” Josh said, hand up by his earbud, even though, technically, that didn’t actually do anything. “Danny just gave the opening speech and invited people to eat shrimp and drink champagne. Everyone is making bids on the charity silent auction for the next forty-five minutes while Torrance MC’s, so this is a good time for Chuck to make his ruckus.”
“Heh, heh,” Grace chuckled. “That rhymes.”
Josh stared at him. “Chucklehead chuckled because Chuck rhymed with ruckus,” he said without batting an eyelash. “Now get out of the
van and make sure the window is open!”
“Wow,” Grace mumbled, remembering to check as he exited the van and melted into the shadows of the Grant Park parking garage. Chuck had positioned them on a middle floor to provide Stirling with better reception for the array of bells and whistles in the van, so for a few moments, Grace and Chuck would be walking together. Grace had pulled his mask and gloves off, knowing that the dark clothing would look like a fashion statement with his black and neon-sprinkled hair.
“I, too, am much impressed,” Chuck said, and there was actual awe in his voice.
“Chuck!” Josh barked, and Grace watched Chuck duck like someone being scolded by their mother.
Grace laughed softly.
“What?” Hunter asked over the earbud. “What’s so funny?”
“Josh has everyone scared,” Grace answered. “It’s amazing. I remember the first time he—”
“You won’t tell that story right now,” Josh said mildly, “because if you do, the last thing I do before I die of cancer will be take you with me.”
Grace scowled. “You can only play that card so many times,” he muttered.
“Or you could stop trying to tell embarrassing stories about me while we’re all on the job,” Josh told him. “Your choice.”
“You know, I wasn’t planning to do all my growing up in the span of a couple of months. I’m not sure why you think you have to deprive me of every joy.”
“You’re still getting laid, sparky. I don’t think your soul is going to wither and die anytime soon.”
“That’s what he thinks,” Grace murmured. He and Chuck cleared the parking garage, and Grace took off at a soft-footed run, knowing Chuck was going to stride up to the entrance with the big copper lions like he owned the place.
A cooling breeze blew off Lake Michigan as Grace dodged the blazing lights coming from the museum’s marble steps and impressive pillars. The women streaming up the stairs had their best dresses on, with wraps or shrugs to warm their shoulders, and the men could wear their tuxedos without sweating.
Grace had managed to evade notice and approach the east end of the building before he saw an unwelcome uniform and the glint of a badge lurking at the corner of the stairs and heading down the side. “Shit! Security!”
Grace only had a few steps before he could disappear into the shadows of one of the great canopied trees that shaded the scant lawn on the side of the building. Swearing, he scrambled up the tree and crouched, hidden in the leaves and the dark, while the guard—a woman in Kevlar—made a very determined circuit down the side of the building and toward the back.
“Hold on,” Chuck murmured. “We may have a problem.”
“What?” Josh’s voice sounded strained, and Grace wondered how much of his strength was feigned for the sake of making everyone else feel better.
“Hello, Mr. Broadstone,” Chuck said, his voice obviously pitched for the person he was talking to, and everybody on coms groaned slightly. They hadn’t told Lucius about what they were doing tonight because so very much of it was going to be illegal, right up until the infobomb was in Interpol’s possession. Apparently that was remiss on their part—and about to bite them all in the ass.
“What are the fucking odds,” Julia said, sotto voce, because she was mingling with Felix in the crowd.
“Chuck,” Josh started, but Chuck had his own patter, and Grace figured it was probably better to get out of the way.
“Hello. Charles, was it?” They’d met more than once at Felix and Danny’s—and there was a flirty note that told everybody Lucius was being coy.
“Got overwhelmed in the basement den, didn’t you?” Chuck asked, his voice a little south of smarmy. “You can call me Chuck.”
“Mm.” Lucius didn’t sound convinced. “I had a business to run. Apparently I missed a big chunk of meetings. So, Chuck, am I to infer from your presence that there will be… complications this evening?”
“Oh, you sure do talk pretty. And yes. Yes, there will be. You should be fine, but you may want to hang out here at the base of the steps for a few minutes. I need to go make something of an ass of myself, and you don’t want any of that action.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Lucius muttered. “Does this mean you’ve found out where—mmf?”
Grace frowned. It sounded like Chuck had put his hand or his fingers or something on Lucius’s mouth, and that was… well, intimate for two guys currently locking horns instead of cocks.
“You know nothing,” Chuck said. “You saw nothing. And in two seconds, I’m going to go up and get kicked out of your little shindig, and you don’t want to have a fucking thing to do with me. Are we clear?”
Chuck must have moved his fingers because Lucius spoke breathlessly. “I’m unsure as to whether—”
The next sounds were muffled and sort of lip-smacky. Grace peered from the darkness to the corner of the building where Chuck would be and gasped.
“Wow,” he murmured.
“Are they kissing?” Josh asked. “Because I can’t see shit, but that sounds like they’re kissing.”
“They’re practically making babies on the lawn,” Grace blurted. “Stop that! Stop that, Chuck! You’re making babies in a very bad place.”
Something in his voice must have done the trick because Chuck pulled back, and from his perch in the tree, Grace watched him wipe Lucius’s mouth with his handkerchief.
“You stay here now, yeah?” he asked, almost tenderly.
“Yeah,” Lucius replied, and Grace would have put money down that he had big eyes and a slightly open mouth.
Gross. Grace wouldn’t kiss either of those people for money.
Chuck broke away from Lucius, who remained in the shadow of the building. As he trotted up the stairs, Grace saw Lucius touch his own lips in wonder, and he sighed.
Then he scrambled down the tree before the damned guard came back.
Stealth came to him like breathing, so he was not prepared for Lucius to suddenly, perceptively, search the shadows for him as he slid to the far corner with the nearly transparent rope Danny had left for him that afternoon. He paused, his heart thundering in his ears, and he was not sure whether or not to be relieved or insulted when he saw Lucius’s little salute his way.
Before he could salute back, they both heard Chuck’s voice as he called out, “Torrance Grayson, you adorable little minx, get back here so we can snog!”
Josh and Stirling sputtered into their coms, and Torrance, activating his com for the first time, snapped, “I will get him for that. I swear to God I will.”
Grace heard, rather than saw, the scuffle at the steps as he grabbed hold of the rope and pulled once to make sure it was secure. He climbed it easily, but he felt naked there on the side of the building, and he hated that. This hadn’t been his first choice of entry. He’d gotten so comfortable in the museum during the last two weeks, his original suggestion had been for him to go in through the front in the morning and curl up in one of the ventilation shafts and take a nap.
Hunter had pointed out that he’d have to nap for a good six hours, since the museum was closing down for the gala, and Danny pointed out that the museum was using the time to vacuum the ventilation shafts out so the whole place didn’t smell like dust in case they had to turn on the heater.
So that idea sucked.
He got to the top and worked quickly, coiling the rope into a nice, neat little pile before moving quietly across the rooftop. When he got to the door, he reached into his sleeve for his lockpicking equipment, only to have the door open. A big bluff Viking of a man stepped outside and held it open for him.
“Grace?” Carl “Soderburgh” Cox said, gesturing him inside.
“That was easy,” Grace muttered. “If you could do that on the roof, why couldn’t you do that in the back?”
“Because the security guards on the roof were the ones who got pulled away when your friend made a ruckus.”
Grace scowled. “What moron ordered that?”
“I did,” Soderburgh told him. “That’s the whole reason Danny wanted me on security.”
“What’s Hunter doing? Serving pastries? He could have taken them out!”
“For what? Being security guards?” Soderburgh sounded mildly discombobulated.
“Whatever,” Grace muttered. “Fine. We don’t hurt people.” He smiled a little to himself. “It’s pretty fun to watch him do his thing, though.” Because Grace had spent a couple of afternoons over this last week in Hunter’s flat, watching Hunter work out while Grace went through his stretching and strength routines.
The results had been sweaty, muscular, and highly satisfying. Grace was wondering more and more why he hadn’t thought having a regular boyfriend would be a good idea. The sex was certainly way better when you knew who was doing what to you, where.
“Whatever,” Soderburgh grumbled. “It would be great if you said, ‘Thanks, Carl, you’re a real pal,’ but I’ll take you wanting to ogle your boyfriend more.”
“How do you even know he’s my boyfriend?” Grace asked as Carl led the way down from the rooftop entrance to the stairs.
“Because everybody’s talking about how it’s like watching a bull mastiff taming a feral cat.”
“Everybody or Josh?” Grace asked, feeling very smug. “You can be honest. It was Josh, wasn’t it?”
“Nope,” Josh said over coms. “It was Stirling.”
“Was not,” Stirling added. “You guys, don’t forget to take a right at the end of the hallway.”
Once again, Grace didn’t have to pick the lock as Carl used a legit set of keys to open the door.
“I feel like I’m not earning my pay here,” he said, scowling.
“Well, I can’t let you into the ventilation shaft,” Soderburgh said shortly. “So earn away.”
“Don’t let the security guards shoot me,” Grace told him, because with this guy, you never knew.
“Can’t promise shit,” Soderburgh muttered. “Don’t get sucked into the furnace and die.”
“I can promise you that!” Grace told him pertly, before finally, finally, pulling out his lockpicks and getting to work.
