by Sarah Fine
“One guess.”
He waggled his eyebrows as he drained his glass. “He’s even more useful than we thought he’d be,” he said breezily. “I’m afraid Mr. Brindle would never give him up. Especially because he knows so many of our secrets now.” He set his glass on a passing waiter’s tray. “We couldn’t let him live if we thought he might leave our employ.”
The threat slid cold down my spine, and suddenly it all crashed down on me at once: Asa’s indifference, the dead look in his eye, his gaunt, crumbling body, the absolute cruelty of the man in front of me, so casual about destroying my love. Another minute and I was going to gouge his eyes out with my pink manicured nails.
“Enjoy the party, asshole,” I said. His amused chuckle followed me as I left the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Holding in tears, I stormed back to the surveillance room. Theresa was inside, sitting next to one of the commandos as he scanned the various monitors.
She handed me a bottle of water and held up a little pill bottle, which she shook. “Need a few of these?”
I accepted her generosity without a word, popping two of the headache pills and guzzling down half the water. Then I sank into a chair.
“I couldn’t hear what was being said, but I could see how much it hurt.”
I let out a strained chuckle. “Yeah. Did Volodya pick up anything when they came in?”
She shook her head. “He said Asa was a complete blank, like a vast wall of static. It left him shaken. He retired to his office on the top floor.” She stared blankly at the monitor, and I knew she wasn’t really seeing it. “I think seeing his son like that for the first time cracked his heart.”
“I always knew Asa was a heartbreaker,” I murmured. “He’s certainly living up to that tonight.”
She sighed. “We’ll get him, Mattie. We just have to wait for him to make his move. We’re all watching him. He’s prowling around the edge of the room, looking at all the exits.” She nodded toward one of the monitors, where I could just make out Asa’s lean form crossing through the corner of the screen. “He’s learning where the cameras are and starting to avoid them.”
“Some things never change.”
“We don’t have many blind spots, though. It won’t be easy.” She pointed as he reentered the picture. He was hovering behind a display case near one of the back corners of the room, and his gaze was riveted on the camera. It looked like he was staring right at us.
“I’m more concerned that he’ll find a way to take down the entire system.”
“With what? He was searched.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned as I watched him move slowly toward the dais holding the Essentialis Magia pages. “He’s up to something.”
He was always up to something. Always playing. Whatever else he’d lost, I was betting his cunning wasn’t on the list. Reza had said Asa was more valuable than they’d anticipated. He’d said Asa knew their secrets now. He was dangerous.
He was also dying. I felt sick as I watched the harsh light play across the hollows of his face. I remembered the bandages. No one could possibly know what was going on inside of him. While Keenan was training me, he’d told me that once Asa had got the hang of hiding his true feelings, the emotion sensor had never picked up another clue again. Just another way for Asa to protect himself from being controlled.
He’d moved near Garza and was sliding behind her two agents. One of the twins was staring at him, looking perplexed, while the other was glaring, sweat shining on his face. I could see only the back of Asa’s head, but he must have said something to Garza’s magic sensor, because his eyes widened and his posture tensed. His lip curled as he said something to Asa, and then he grabbed Asa’s arm.
“Uh-oh,” Theresa said, half rising to her feet as Asa shoved the Spanish agent, knocking him against a display case. The guy grimaced and grabbed his back, and something small and glittering fell to the floor.
“Did you see that?” Theresa asked.
“Yeah—what was it?”
But our questions had to wait, because now Asa was standing off against both agents, with Botwright, Myron, and her other agent coming to help. Theresa turned to the commando next to us. “Get your people in there to quiet this down before someone gets hurt.”
Too late for that, though. I don’t know if Asa threw the first punch, but a moment later there were fists flying and glass shattering and people screaming. I squinted at the melee, trying to keep an eye on Asa, but . . .
“Theresa, he’s gone.” I scanned all the other monitors while she leaned close and did the same.
“He’s in there somewhere,” she said. “But—”
The lights flickered as the commando next to Theresa spoke in urgent Russian into his mouthpiece. His men poured into the ballroom.
Then our cameras went dark. Even through the barrier of the door, we could hear a massive thump and a cacophony of breaking glass. The alarm went off, piercing and certain.
Theresa cursed. “He’s going for the pages.”
I bolted for the door and swung it open in time to see eight of Volodya’s guards pushing their way to the front of the ballroom. The emergency lighting system was on, filling the space with wavering green and yellow light. But the lights on the other side of the door at the back of the room were still shining bright.
The glamour wasn’t connected to the main electrical system. Or any electrical system, for that matter. A few people were peering at it curiously as they hovered anxiously near the back of the room, but there was still a tangle of brawlers near the cases on the right side of the space, where Asa had picked a fight with Garza’s men. I couldn’t see who was still over there, but—
Four commandos burst through the doors of the fake escape route, dragging a lean dark-haired man by the arms. They shouted something in Russian as I felt fingers close tight around my arm. “They got him,” Theresa said in my ear, her tone breaking with excitement.
I turned to her in shock—the lure of seeing her son captured had drawn her out of her hiding place, but I totally understood. If Asa was caught in the act, Volodya would have jurisdiction to keep him and question him.
It was our chance to get him away from Brindle.
Except . . . if I didn’t want both Asa and myself to be under constant threat from the Headsmen for the rest of our lives, I was supposed to be texting Keenan right now to come rescue both Asa and those pages.
My fingers groped for the phone in my purse as I pushed forward. The emergency lights were brighter near the front of the room, where a spotlight focused on the shattered display case on the dais. The trap had actually worked.
The commandos dragged Asa forward and tossed him to the ground in front of the case. The brawl subsided as people crushed closer to see the man who had defied Volodya’s generosity and security. I took a step away from Theresa, my sweaty fingers tight around the phone.
The thief braced his palms on the carpet glittering with shards of glass. He raised his head.
And I let go of the phone.
It wasn’t Asa. It was Garza’s magic sensor. He looked stunned and confused as he realized he was surrounded. One of the commandos strode forward and handed the case containing a sheaf of Essentialis Magia pages to Daniil, who had rushed into the room and ended up next to me. They had a terse conversation in Russian before Daniil turned to me. “He was trying to escape with this.”
The lights came on, blaring and bright, as I blinked down at the man who was not Asa.
“Oh God,” Theresa whispered.
She was backtracking, her eyes fixed on a spot just to my left. I turned.
Asa was leaning against a display case next to Reza and Frank Brindle, both of whom seemed to have avoided the brawl altogether. Asa looked relaxed, but his long fingers were curled hard over the edge of the case. His gaze was on Theresa. For the first time since he’d been taken from me, true, raw emotion shined in his eyes.
But it wasn’t love. Or s
orrow.
It was pure, unadulterated rage. “Hi, Mom.”
Frank Brindle broke the terrible silence that followed. He placed a fatherly hand on Asa’s shoulder, and Asa’s eyelids drooped. The boss of the West Coast was a powerful Ekstazo, and I had no doubt he was letting his magic flow into his captive sensor right now. “Now, is that right?” Frank asked, peering at Theresa. “Yes, I see it. I suppose he has your eyes, doesn’t he?”
Asa was staring at the floor now, swaying unsteadily, and Theresa was staring at him, stricken. She didn’t seem to have the voice to respond to Brindle. She looked like she wanted to run, but I knew she was held there by her heart.
Daniil raised his hands, which were shaking slightly, maybe with hatred for Brindle and Asa, maybe with the pressure of the moment. “My friends, I think it’s time to end this party tonight. You’ve all had a chance to view the merchandise that will be auctioned tomorrow afternoon. Please call your bankers to discuss your bid ranges. Our financial-transfer documents have been encrypted and sent to each of you.”
“How do we know the merchandise will actually be here tomorrow?” asked Botwright, who was now eyeing Garza and her agents with distinct suspicion. Garza herself was nearly white with shock as she stood surrounded by Volodya’s guards.
“Well, it’s here now,” Daniil said, his tone hard. “Because we were ready for the thieves.” He was holding his head just a tad too high, and I could see the strain there. “Now please, ladies and gentlemen. We bid you a good night, and we will welcome you tomorrow when we have cleaned up after this scum who has abused our hospitality.” He spat the word as he gestured to the commandos, who wrenched Garza’s magic sensor to his feet.
The man muttered something in Spanish, and Garza’s eyes went wide. “He just said, ‘He did something to me.’”
“Who?” asked Daniil.
The accused magic sensor raised his head and opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t seem to push any more words out. I turned and gave Asa a look, but he was still staring drunkenly at the ground. Frank Brindle pulled him a little closer. “I think we’ll be heading back to our hotel now.”
I could only hope Keenan’s team had pinpointed the location of the mosaic panel. Or that Ilya and the cleaning staff had done the same. My thoughts spun. I wasn’t sure who I truly wanted to win. Right now, I just didn’t want it to be Brindle.
Theresa and I stepped back to allow Reza, Asa, and Frank to pass. Reza smirked at me as he sauntered by without a single hair out of place. As soon as they’d left the room, everyone else turned to Garza’s crew. The commandos were ushering them away to a series of improvised interrogation rooms and holding cells that Volodya had demanded. Potential buyers shuffled out to their waiting limos while servers came in to sweep up the mess.
Daniil stood near an intact display case, holding the glass box full of priceless pages. He looked around at the overturned chairs, the shattered cabinet on the dais, and the door to the secure room that was now hanging open, still looking deceptively like a long hallway. His shoulders slumped. “Sambor, Masha,” he said, and the two Ekstazos trudged over from the exit, where they’d been trying to soothe anxiety as guests left. “Call Ilya immediately and tell him Brindle is on his way back to the hotel.”
The couple walked out quickly, arms linked.
“Zoya,” said Daniil as his sister approached him. “What did you feel?”
“Just before Garza’s agent charged the dais, I felt his need to steal the pages.”
I frowned. “Just before? But not earlier?”
She shook her head. “When I passed him earlier, all he wanted was to be elsewhere. He was going to try to convince his boss to leave early.”
“And then he decided to steal the pages, just like that? Why?” Daniil asked.
“Asa did something to him,” I said quietly. “He picked a fight, and while everyone was brawling, he put some kind of whammy on the guy.” I glanced around. “I did see something fall off the case after Asa shoved him . . .”
“A Knedas relic? But why wouldn’t I have felt him bringing it in?” Theresa said. “His pockets were empty!” She sounded bewildered as she looked around. “I don’t know what we missed.” She started to walk around the room, her gaze on the floor, stepping over broken champagne flutes, caviar-splattered display cases, a few lost gloves, one broken pair of glasses, and a stained, wrinkled tie. She bent over and picked it up.
“That’s Myron’s,” I said, recognizing the sapphire tie tack.
“It’s soaked with champagne.” Her eyes narrowed. “But there’s a trace of Knedas on it.”
“But Myron is a Knedas. Could it be from his sweat or something?”
She sighed. “Yes.” She turned back to me, Daniil, and Zoya. “I need to go tell Volodya everything that happened. I think he will take it better if he hears it from me.”
I gave her a surprised look. “Are you sure?”
“He’s our son,” she murmured. “I’m the only one who can understand what Volodya will feel.” She trudged out of the room.
“This is bad,” said Daniil.
“I really don’t get it, either,” I said, staring after her.
“Not them, Mattie. This.” With an expression of disgust, he gestured at the shattered display case.
“We still have the pages,” said Zoya.
“The pages were never in danger,” I said. “This was a scout mission.” I kicked at a discarded tray. “Asa was looking to find out what security we had in place. Somehow, he used Garza’s sensor as his probe, and he got the guy to trip the alarm, to use the escape hatch.”
“And now they know it’s not really a way out,” said Daniil, slamming his hand onto one of the big display cases. “We’re not even to the auction tomorrow, and already they know our tricks. Any changes to the layout or exits and they’ll know we’ve rigged a different false escape system.” He snarled something in Russian.
“What do we do now?” Zoya asked her brother.
“Call Olga. We’ll talk to her about what she can do. Maybe little things,” said Daniil. “The locks on the doors. The electrical panel. Perhaps we can slow potential thieves down.”
“We could use Father’s magic,” she whispered.
Daniil nodded. “I think we’ll have to.”
“You have more of Arkady’s magic?”
“Volodya has been saving it. And I think Olga might need the extra boost. With the two combined, we can probably work something up. Something that won’t be revealed by one big attack.” He let out a deep breath and gave his sister a smile. “This could still be all right.”
She touched his arm. “Of course it will be. We haven’t actually lost anything yet. We still have our treasures.” She gestured around the room. “And we still have Mattie.”
I gave them a weak smile. “Thanks.” I stretched and yawned. “I’m actually going to head back to my room to get some rest before tomorrow.”
I had barely made it back to my room when the phone Jack had given me buzzed with a text.
Panel located. We acquire tomorrow. Report on your situation.
I sighed and texted back. Asa figured out V’s security. Probably will go for the pages tomorrow at auction.
And you?
Probably tomorrow as well.
We’re tracking you. You’re safe. We’ll take him down.
I glanced down at my shock bracelet where Jack had put the tiny tracker and laughed. “Yeah, right.”
Now that Asa had probed the security system, there was little holding him back. Tomorrow we would face off, and yet I had no idea exactly when he would strike or how. I only knew that Volodya’s commandos and naturals weren’t enough. Possibly a whole crew of Headsmen wasn’t, either.
I walked over to a shelf and gazed at the sleeve containing a vial of Theresa’s magic and the pendant Asa had given me.
Everyone wanted to stop Asa. Almost nobody could, though. And I could only hope his habit of underestimating me would be the fata
l flaw that made all the difference.
Assuming, of course, he hadn’t been right about me all along.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I couldn’t sleep at all. I sat up all night, wondering how it would feel when he stood over me, prepared to do whatever was necessary to extract the magic from inside my chest. It wasn’t the physical pain I was so worried about. No, it would be the hurt of knowing he truly didn’t care. It would be the agony of betrayal.
Over and over, I told myself not to think about that. I had a lot of miles to cover before it came to that. A lot of moves to make.
A few hours before I was going to head over to the auction with the rest of our beleaguered second-string crew, Jack came to my door. I glanced up and down the hallway before letting him in. “Which Jack am I talking to right now?”
“Depends. Which Mattie am I talking to?”
I let out a shaky breath and sat down on the edge of my bed. “Did Keenan send you? Is he worried that I’ll screw him over again?”
Jack shrugged. “Just wanted to see how you were doing. I talked to Daniil.”
“And is he hell-bent on killing Asa today?”
“He wouldn’t mind seeing him suffer. He won’t defy Volodya, though.” He took a seat near the window.
“He actually seems like a decent guy for having two evil parents.”
Jack leaned back and hooked an ankle over his knee. “Speaking of parents . . .”
Our eyes met. “I knew that story would spread quickly.”
“Not sure which surprised us more—that Theresa Harrison is still alive or that Asa Ward is her son.”
I sighed. “How about that Volodya is his father?”
Jack laughed. “Doesn’t that just figure? Makes a lot of damn sense, if you think about it.”
I didn’t share his amusement as I considered how freaking twisted Asa’s parents could be. “Not sure I follow.”
“People can come out of nowhere, Mattie. It does happen. But sometimes, heredity explains a lot.”
“Let’s hope not,” I muttered. “But the good news is, Volodya wants Asa safe. He’ll do what he can to make it happen.”
