He glares at me with silver eyes that don’t hurry.The pause stretches long enough for my guts to reconsider all my life choices.
“Fine.”He shrugs.“You’ll do me after Frizz.”
“I’m not cheap.It’s going to cost you an arm and a leg.”
Another glare.My insides shrivel.
“But for you?”I lift a finger, adjusting.“Just the arm.Maybe a toe.”
The corner of his mouth tips into an almost smile.
“The last thing.”He drops his voice to a velvet rumble.“I like how you handled Crowe.The bomb.The razor blade.”
My heart skips.
“I was running surveillance at the nightclub that night.Had a dozen operatives on standby, a mole buried behind enemy lines, and we were still days, maybe weeks out from making a clean grab for Jag.”His eyes bore into mine.“You made us all look slow.”
“I get impatient when people I love are taken from me.”
“You thought outside the box, kid.And you didn’t flinch.We need a mind like yours on the team.”
“You offering me a job?”
“I’m offering you a life.Right here.At the table.With Jag.”
“What about Dove?”
“She’s already in.Making friends, getting grease under her nails while working on Luke’s cars, rolling through the halls on her skates, and painting her toes with the ladies.She’s not going anywhere.”
I feel theyesline up in my chest, but I don’t say it.Not without Jag and Dove weighing in.
“I mean…” I motion between us, the grove, the citadel, the general state of my existence.“That’s a hell of a pitch.Let me… Sit with the vibe.Consult the council.Scream into a pillow.I’ll circle back.”
“You do that.”
“Leave him alone, Van.”
I turn toward the musical voice, andHoly Mother of all,Liv Reed steps out of the shadows.
Long black hair spills down her back in glossy sheets.Her black mini dress leaves little to the imagination, the arrangement of straps looking edgy and severe without trying.
She’s the incarnate of Kate Beckinsale, Death Dealer of the Underworld, and Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.
Hard to believe she was Van’s first slave.
Dominatrix energy blasts from her, shaking my legs with the urge to kneel for her and press my lips to her stilettos.
And the scar on her face?Same line.Same angle.An exact mirror of Van’s.
“Pay up.”She holds out a palm to Van.
He exhales through his nose and reaches into his pocket.A Colombian paper bill appears.The big one.He stabs it with his toothpick and holds it out like an offering.
“Gross.”She pinches it by the corner and finally looks at me.
I’m openly staring.
“We had a bet.”She stuffs the money between her breasts.“On how long it would take your boy to hack the security system.I knew it wouldn’t be today.He’s too busy being in love.”
