King of Thieves

by Shea Godfrey

  “In the hills to the north, a few hours away. As for your car, my father’s coming to help, and he’s very good with engines. He can fix anything.”

  Asher’s eyes went wide. “A mechanic?”

  Ian tipped his hand back and forth. “Sort of, pretty close to that. I’m sure he can fix it if we have the parts.”

  Asher took in his words and then looked down for a moment. “Ah, yes.” He looked up and Ian saw such a wave of relief in his expression, he thought the man might cry. He appeared to be worn out, worried, and just plainly at the end of his rope. “Yes, this would be good. We have been traveling a long time, it seems, just so we may get home. It will be good, to feel France beneath my feet.”

  “Are you hungry?” Asher was surprised by the question and Ian took a chance. “Listen, we’re having some food, back over the hill. You and Cassandra, come back with us and eat. Take a rest for a bit. My father will take a look at your car. It makes him extremely happy to fix things, you have no idea.” Ian rolled his eyes a bit in amusement. “We can eat and drink some cider. You and I can have a smoke or two. We’re spending the day in the sun, planning for the harvest. Come and join us. You’ll be on your way home in no time.”

  Asher seemed a bit uncertain and he looked away.

  Ian followed his gaze.

  “Is that your boy?”

  Ian considered Finn as she stood next to Cassandra—the girl had gotten out of the car. Cassandra was shorter and very skinny in a pale green dress and pink windbreaker, but she seemed healthy. Her hair was a dark blond and her eyes were clear and sharp. Her eyes were, in fact, very intelligent as she gazed back at him, and Ian felt that she sized him up in an extremely shrewd and efficient manner. She held on to a rather sad-looking stuffed cat, hugging it to her chest with her left arm.

  “That’s my daughter, Finnegan. Although I’m not sure she’s made up her mind about that.”

  Asher chuckled and Ian found the timbre and feeling behind it free of suspicion, or at least he hoped so. Asher met his eyes. “About what?”

  “About who she needs to be.”

  Asher’s eyes filled with warmth. “Ah yes, a tomboy, in English?”

  Ian realized at once that it more than satisfied. “Yes.”

  “My God, she looks just like you.”

  “Wait until you see my other one.”

  Cassandra turned her head and considered Finn, her eyes still piercing as Finn looked back at her. Finn tipped to her left just a tad, and whispered something that Ian couldn’t hear. She did not look away and Ian gave her credit for that, and for the playful, open expression she wore. There were very few things that intimidated his Finnegan. He had the feeling that such an attribute was going to come in handy, and he watched as she used it to bolster whatever spell her charm was weaving.

  Cassandra tilted her head as Ian and Asher watched, and then she reached out and slipped her small hand in Finn’s. She turned back to them both with a fierce, unyielding expression.

  Ian looked at Asher with a slight turn of his head. “I guess that’s settled.”

  Asher’s eyes were bright. “Yes.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  San Francisco

  Present day

  Casey was already stepping from the cherry-red GTO as it jerked to a stop. Her Docs hit the pavement and she leaned back down. “Are you sure you’re good with this?”

  “Yeah, it’s a good plan, Casey. I’ll take care of my end.”

  “Meet me back here, unless I call you,” she confirmed. “Ten o’clock sharp, don’t be late.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Casey pushed the door shut and faced the door of Finn’s building as Jack gunned the GTO and swung away from the curb.

  Casey couldn’t help but remember how she’d felt that morning, as she acknowledged her current emotions. Her fear had intensified a hundredfold, but it was a righteous fear, and not born of weakness. As she hurried to the door she admitted to herself that even though her reasons for running had been valid on some level, she had betrayed herself as much as she had betrayed Finn.

  Asher’s words were bold within her thoughts, and for the first time, she truly understood them. Not the simplistic message on the surface, but the sacrifice implied underneath. It’s always better to fight for someone, rather than something.

  She worked the dead bolt with a set of heavy leads in about seven seconds and swung the door open. She took the stairs two at a time, and before she could even take a deep breath, she stood before Finnegan’s door.

  Casey punched the keys that would spell out her name, uncertain if Finn had changed the code. The bolt slid with a satisfying pop, however, and Casey shoved into the loft. “Finn?”

  The early evening shadows filled the space, and what little light from the street did reach the loft struggled against the shades that had been drawn. The door closed behind her and Casey took several steps into the silence.

  Finn’s energy was gone, she could feel that at once, and though she hadn’t known her for long, she knew Finn’s presence. She knew it and she understood it. She knew it as surely as she knew Finn’s kiss, or the feel of her body, or the dreamy influence of that heavy hair sifting through her hands. She knew her. As she stood alone in the quiet, Casey understood that, as well.

  She held the weight of Finn’s heart within her care, and it was a gift she had never expected to be given. She had paid close attention, and even though she’d been careless in the end, she knew what she had. She had known it from their first kiss. She had known it when Finn had spoken her name, still caught within the tatters of her dark dreams. Casey could guess what those dreams had been now, and that knowledge pulled at the loose threads of her composure. Her anger had been building since she’d opened Colin’s files, and it was only getting worse.

  She knew the feel of an empty house, and despite the indifferent aura of the loft, she found herself rushing anyway, around the couch and chairs and up the stairs. The small hallway that led past the bathroom and into the bedroom was dark, and she flicked the light switch as she passed beneath the arch.

  The bedroom filled with light.

  “Finn?”

  Her chest tightened as the memories rose up, and the image of her lover peacefully asleep beneath her touch, just that morning, took her back until she bumped against the wall. It was suddenly hard to breathe, faced with yet another empty bed.

  Cassandra Marinos.

  Casey closed her eyes as the heated feel of Finn’s body spun her thoughts in a cruel manner. Finn’s tender but firm hands, and the soft sheet against her face as Finn pulled her back. The touch of Finn’s breasts, pressed against her back and then gone. The luxury of Finn’s mouth, her kisses like drops of fire between her shoulders, their skin slick with sweat and passion as Finn moved inside her. She’d been taken over that edge she always craved, with the added ecstasy of Finn’s promise in her ear. I love you.

  Love.

  They had been bathed in it, as they lay together and spoke softly, and Finn had laughed freely as Casey had joked and held her close. Casey remembered very well what she’d thought at that moment, as she had teased her lover. I’m never letting you go, Finnegan, not ever.

  Love.

  Not so easy to come by and even harder to keep. She had felt it, but she hadn’t said it. And she had let Finn go all too easily.

  “Fuck.” Casey’s voice ripped against her throat, and the sound of her fear drew out like a blade through the empty room.

  She stepped away from the wall and moved into the room as she pushed her hair back. Her hands lingered at the back of her neck, and she could hear Bach in her head as she tried to break free before it all slipped away.

  Never panic, Domino, there’s always a way out. If you panic, you’re trapped. If you let your fear knock you over? Everything will crash down around you, one thing after the other, click, click, click. Then you will have nothing. Don’t panic.

  Asher’s voice rose from her deepest me
mories, and it brought with it a wave of calm that washed over everything. Casey exhaled slowly and dug in the front pocket of her jeans. She pulled out a hair band and tied her hair at her nape before she looked about the room.

  For the most part, things were as she had last seen them, though their dishes had been taken care of, and the books had been straightened on the side table. The bed was made and she could see where Finn had sat to put her boots on.

  Casey moved about the bed and eyed the picture-perfect ripple of fabric. Or perhaps you only sat, my sweet Finnegan. Casey turned around.

  Three steps took her to the armoire and she opened the doors.

  All the clothes rested to the right of center along the clothes rod and Casey shoved them against the side panel before she dropped to a knee. The bottom drawer was a facade, and so she slid her touch along the underside of the lip. Her fingers caught upon the catch, she pressed, and the base of the armoire gave a muffled pop as the latch was freed. She found the tab in the back corner and swung the false bottom on its hinge.

  The vault safe greeted her with silence and she took several steady breaths, long and easy until her pulse obeyed. She rubbed her hands together to warm them, and to center her sense of touch as she took another deep breath.

  She set her right hand upon the dial and her left on the surface of the safe, her fingers spread wide upon the textured steel. She closed her eyes, spun the dial, and let the tumblers play out. She picked up the wheels, and the sound they made filled her head like a favorite song. She needed only the music in order to remember the words.

  Her fingers moved on instinct, the forefinger of her left hand giving a soft tap when the grind of a wheel spoke to her. The fingers of her right turned the dial with a deft touch. Four, no, five wheels…a National, a trip and gap with a fence…

  The first wheel caught and she reversed the dial, the drive cam turning within the spindle until the second notch caught. She tipped her head a bit at the shift in sound, repeating the process, adjusting the turn of the dial as each wheel caught and the notches lined up. The fence fell into the gap from the gravity of its own weight and Casey pulled the handle.

  The heavy door lifted open and the contents of the long vault were revealed.

  Casey recognized what she saw, and she tried to move her thoughts around the panic that flared within her chest. She pushed to her feet and backed away until the bed forced her to sit.

  She had not expected to see that, even though she should have.

  Her phone was in her hand as she slipped along the smooth bedcovers, dropped to the floor, and brought her knees up.

  Finn’s voicemail greeting was short and to the point and it was painful to hear her voice.

  “Finnegan.” Casey cleared her throat.

  Say it.

  “Finn…baby, it’s Casey.”

  Say it.

  “I think I know what’s going on, and…”

  Coward.

  “You need to call me back now, as soon as you get this.”

  I love you, Finn.

  “I’m so very sorry about this morning, I didn’t…I didn’t mean to do that, Finnegan, but I got scared.” The shadows in the armoire were ominous, so she looked down. She covered her eyes with her left hand. “Finn,” she whispered. “We’re kind of perfect for each other, aren’t we?”

  Say it.

  “I didn’t…I didn’t really know that could happen—I mean, people say it can, I know.” Casey wiped at her cheeks. “Like in the movies, I guess, but I’m way too old for fairy tales.” She smiled through the embarrassment she felt. “And I never wanted that, anyway.”

  When you’ve had enough, Domino, you’ve had enough. Each morning you wake up, and you get out of your bed, but if you’re too afraid of what comes next? That life is not for our kind. We know when to say enough. We know the joy of embracing the unknown, yes? We do not wear suits and ties and sit in rooms without windows. We take what we want and live in the sun, even when times are hard.

  “I love you, Finn.” Casey gave her the words and it was wonderful. “Don’t do anything crazy, okay? Just call me back because…because I love you.” Casey wiped at her cheeks again and smiled, startled. “And just so you know, it feels really good to say that, and I didn’t know it would.”

  She sat in the silence and refused to hang up, knowing that Finn’s phone was in one of her pockets, warmed by the heat of her body. “Just come home, because I’m here, okay?”

  Casey’s heart gave a thud as she heard the front door close, muffled through the distance and the floor beneath her.

  Casey moved as if she had wings, along the hallway and down the stairs as she searched through the shadows of the first floor. She slowed in surprise and took the last few steps with care. Malik stood beside the couch.

  “She’s not here?” he asked.

  Casey put her thoughts in order and stacked her chips for the game. It was a fierce blow, to see Malik instead of Finn. “No.”

  “Why are you here, then?”

  “Because I’m looking for my lover,” Casey answered and her voice held a cold edge. It felt good to release some portion of her anger and fear, even though he didn’t deserve it. Or maybe he did.

  “I’m not sure what’s going on,” Malik confessed. “I can’t find her and she won’t answer her phone. How did you get in?”

  “I was given the code. How did you get in?”

  “She texted me when she changed it, in case of an emergency.”

  “Did you let her go alone?”

  Malik frowned. “When? Today?”

  “Did she go to Belgrade alone?” Casey demanded as she moved into the living room. “Was she all alone for that?”

  Several emotions moved through Malik’s expression that Casey didn’t recognize, though one of them, she assumed, was regret. Or maybe it’s shame. She didn’t know him well enough yet and he was decidedly on his guard.

  “She didn’t tell me, Casey.” It was regret, she could hear it. “We were at MassArt together and then she was just gone. I didn’t know until she’d come home.”

  “Who allowed that to happen?” Casey moved around the chair. He took a small step back as she approached. “Who let her do that?”

  “There was no one else,” Malik answered quietly. “She didn’t tell her grandparents until she’d returned. Her grandfather wasn’t well at all, and their dad was gone.”

  “I saw.” Casey’s voice was rough. “I saw the photos.”

  “I’m sorry you saw that. Finn would never want that, not ever. Neither would I, not now. Not before, either.”

  “Before what?” He could see it, and Casey understood that she would never be able to hide such a thing. It wasn’t something that was meant to be hidden.

  “Before you fell in love with her.”

  “At first, I thought…” She couldn’t say it. “Even though it didn’t make sense.”

  “I know.”

  “Is that who you’re after? The man who did that?”

  “Petar Dimitrovich,” Malik answered. “His name is Petar Dimitrovich. He was a Russian mercenary, until he started working for a man named Ketrin Arshavin. Dimitrovich is his man, his general of sorts.”

  “Ketrin Arshavin.” The name held a good deal of power, Casey could feel it. “The Butcher of Badovinci.”

  “Yes.” Malik’s gaze was perceptive and he noted the leap she’d taken. “She almost had him in Greece, a little over five years ago. Finn was part of a raid outside Athens, but it all went bad. Dimitrovich had been tipped off that they were coming. It was a mess and her partner went down. She was dragging him free when their egress route collapsed.” Malik’s expression was troubled. “When she turned around, Dimitrovich was there. He shot her twice in the stomach. Ballistics matched the bullets.”

  Casey stepped away from him, walked to the couch, and sat down. She remembered the heavy texture of Finn’s scars beneath her fingers, and how Finn had caught her breath when she had kissed them.

>   “The gun that killed Declan, and Isabella Lazarini, was the gun he shot Finn with.”

  Casey assimilated the information as quickly as she could, but her brain wasn’t quite up to speed yet. “What does all this have to do with me?” She felt extremely small for asking, but she needed to know. “I’ll take you to the auction, Malik—I don’t care what it costs me. Whatever she needs, I’ll do it. But there’s an empty gun safe upstairs, and so I think we have a more immediate concern on our hands.”

  Malik sat in the chair Finn had last occupied. “She’s been trying to protect you.”

  Casey shook her head. “From what? I’m not involved in this really, except for…”

  “She’s convinced you have something he wants, and she’s right, isn’t she.”

  “Yes, but”—Casey felt her focus shift—“once it’s seen, Malik, everyone there will want it. At that point, it will go to the buyer who’s willing to give up everything they’ve got, in order to get it. There will be men there with centuries of wealth behind them. No matter how much power Arshavin has, he’s going up against pockets that will never be empty. They just have to choose how deeply they wish to dig.”

  “In a perfect world, he doesn’t have to win, he just has to show up. Finn has been worried that he’ll get what he wants without even doing that.”

  “If he wants the painting, he has to.”

  “Casey, Ketrin Arshavin is the man who bankrolls Eric Werner, and he always has been. If what you have is as valuable as you say it is, then I doubt very much it will ever make it to the auction. I think Finn has been right to be worried about your safety.”

  Casey leaned back, shocked by what he said.

  “If Arshavin wants what you have, he’ll take it, and kill anyone who gets in his way. He’s been running this grift with Werner for many years, according to Finn, and she’s pretty certain that you’re next in line.”

  Casey struggled to find her voice. “Why are you telling me this now, when you refused to tell me before?”

  “Because if I can’t find her, and you can’t find her? Something big happened, something that changed her course. And that means she’s in the wind, without backup.”