Nobody appeared to know quite what to do with that, at least until Fletcher cleared his throat. “I think I see Price. I’d best be going. Security duties await.” Hand still lingering on Kane’s shoulder, he gripped it tightly—a brief, familiar gesture—and shot Zaria and Jules a wink. “Nice to meet you.”
And then Fletcher was gone, his tall frame engulfed by the crowds as he wove his way toward a pair of officers waiting by the turnstiles.
This left Zaria and Jules alone with Kane, the latter alone in appearing unbothered by the development. He worked his jaw, gaze tracking the progression of a gilded carriage like an animal might watch its next meal.
Zaria took a breath, trying to organize her thoughts. What difference did it make, really, if Kane had taken advantage of her desperation? It was one job. By this time next week, it would all be over. She’d have more valuables than she knew what to do with and, with any luck, a primateria source in hand. She and Jules would no longer have to worry about what the future held, and she’d never have to see Kane Durante again.
“I suppose we should get going as well,” Kane said after a beat. “See you later, Julian.”
Zaria’s brows slid up of their own accord. “Excuse me?”
“It’sJules,” Jules said. “And I’m coming with you.” He stood shoulder to shoulder with Zaria, arms crossed.
Kane tsked, shaking his head. “You’re not. I only have two tickets,and even if I had a third, we’d look ridiculous attending as a trio. Besides, your outfit is abysmal. This is a private event, and we need to look like the height of upper-class London.”
Zaria glanced at Jules’s threadbare ensemble, then to Kane’s outfit: a well-trimmed black frock coat, black trousers, and shoes in which she could all but glimpse her reflection. She rolled her eyes where Jules could see. They didn’t all have dark market money for custom-made suits.
“The height of upper-class?” she scoffed at Kane. “You look like you’re about to swindle money from a rich old woman.”
“That is so incredibly specific.” He scanned her from head to toe, an almost dismissive action. “I suppose you, at least, are passable.”
Zaria looked down at herself.Dress nicely, Kane had told her last night. She’d obliged as best she could, but it had been a foolish request in the first place. “No one is going to believe I’m upper-class.”
Kane waved a dismissive hand. “No one’s going to be looking at you,” he said. “You’ll be with me.”
She had the sudden desire to smack him.
“And just what the hell am I supposed to do while you’re inside?” Jules demanded. “Stand out here by myself?”
Kane shrugged. “What do I care? Go to the shops. Sit on a bench. Make a new friend.”
“You’ve got to be joking.”
Zaria glared daggers at Kane, her stomach tightening. She hadn’t planned on doing this without Jules. Hell, she hadn’t planned on doing this at all. “He’s coming with us. You’re a con man, aren’t you? Figure out a way to make it work.”
Jules was already shaking his head. “Whatever. If it’s going to make things difficult, I’ll wait outside.” His eyes flicked to Kane, theirdepths reflecting the gray-blue skies overhead. “If you get any funny ideas, though—”
“Yes, yes,” Kane drawled. “I’m sure you’ll stab me, or shoot me, or some alternate manner of painful retaliation.”
“No. Zaria will, though.” Jules gave her a measured nod, concern in the lines of his mouth.
Zaria returned it and couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that crossed her face at his words. It was true. Jules wasn’t much for violence, but then he’d rarely needed to be. Zaria was the angrier one. The unpredictable one. The one who acted first and regretted later.
“Somehow, that does not surprise me.” Kane wasn’t looking at either of them; his attention was on the entrance to the Crystal Palace, and in one hand he clutched a silver pocket watch on a chain. There was eagerness in the way he held himself. A kind of energy Zaria suspected had to do with the thrill that prefaced the execution of something unsavory.
She felt it, too. Though she could scarcely admit it to herself, she did. It was a delicious kind of anxiety, and the moment it reared within her, she made an effort to push it back down. She wasn’t like Kane. She would not delight in this as he did.
“Be careful,” Jules murmured in her ear, a needless warning he could always be counted on to provide.
“You can trust me.”
A rough laugh escaped him. “It’s not you I don’t trust.”
He gave Zaria’s arm a last squeeze, the pressure a grounding sensation, before Kane took it and led her into the fray.
ZARIA
ZARIA LETKANE CLEAR A PATH THROUGH THE CROWDS, WHICHhe did with surprising ease. His hands were occupied with placing hers in the crook of his elbow, and it felt horribly intimate. The warmth of him was tangible even through the fabric of his jacket. Every one of her muscles was tense, but somehow she managed to take step after step, letting him guide her. The worst bit was how utterly comfortable Kane appeared.
