Kane ignored them. He was already moving against the current of people, most of whom leapt out of his path. Somewhere, he could hear the echo of a woman’s voice rising above the noise—the queen’s speech?—and panic gnawed at his insides anew. In the back of his mind, the seconds continued to tick away.
When he reached the curtained-off area surrounding the door, he scowled at the exhibition worker standing guard. “Move.”
The man straightened, a furrow appearing between his prominent eyebrows. His outfit marked him as volunteer security—not a member of the Metropolitan Police. “I think not. This is a private—”
Abruptly, Jules was at Kane’s side, flashing the exhibitor’s medal at the volunteer. For all intents and purposes, it meant absolutely nothing, but he did it with such authority that the man hesitated. He glanced between Jules and Kane with some trepidation. “I don’t—”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Kane barked, shoving the man aside and shouldering the door open.
Beyond it was a dark space that was evidently being used by the Metropolitan Police. He scanned the array of uniforms on makeshift racks, the rows of gleaming boots, before his eyes adjusted and he picked out three figures in the dim. One he recognized immediatelyas Fletcher. His friend was stiff-backed, his hands raised. The second man, Kane had never seen before. And the third was—
“Junior,” Kane snarled, and Richard Price grinned.
Beside him, Zaria’s eyes widened in understanding. She put a hand to her waist where she presumably kept her weapon.
“Keep your revolver up, Simon,” Price barked at his colleague, then pointed his own gun at Kane. “Well, well. For a minute, I thought I was going to have to stand by andletyou break the law. Instead, I’ll get to say I’m the one who finally got Kane Hunt in darbies.” He procured a pair of handcuffs as he spoke, his gaze roving over Zaria, then Jules. “I must say, I’m not impressed by your choice of accomplices.”
Both Zaria and Jules were unmoving, perfectly silent. The former appeared to be trying to catch Kane’s eye, but he refused to be distracted. In his periphery, Fletcher was stone-faced, hands still raised in surrender, a muscle flexing in his neck.
“Didn’t think your lot carried firearms,” Kane said mildly to Price even as his heart thundered. “Policing by consent and all that.”
Price lifted his chin. “They’re issued in special circumstances.”
“I’m honored.”
“Not because ofyou,” the sergeant scoffed, disgust pinching his features. “Because of the Exhibition. This place is a dipper’s dream.”
Kane crooked a finger in his own gun’s trigger guard, spinning the weapon around. “You don’t want to mess this up for me, Junior. I can destroy your life. Your father’s life. Your legacy in the force will be ruined likethat.” He snapped once with his free hand, the sound swallowed by the canopied space.
Price licked his upper lip, betraying a hint of fear. “And yet Ward contacted my father last night, keen to do business. Seems the Price family status is important to the kingpin of the dark market afterall. So tell me, Hunt: How do you plan to take us down without his support?”
“Need I remind you that not everything I do requires Ward’s support?” Kane set his jaw, fury and desperation unfurling in his blood. “I don’t need him to make you sorry you crossed me.”
“See, that’s the thing,” Price said. He began to pace, eyes narrowed, spots of color in his cheeks. “I think you do. I think you use Alexander Ward’s name when it suits you, but that he’s not behind you as much as you’d like everyone to believe.” The sergeant’s gaze traveled up to Kane’s temple, and Kane realized he must be focused on the bruising there. “Not only will younotbe stealing from the Exhibition today, but you’re all under arrest for possessing dark market artifacts as well as conspiracy to commit a criminal offense.”
Kane gave a prolonged, ungenuine laugh. “We’re under arrest, are we? You’re outnumbered, Junior.”
Price shrugged, shifting his gun from Kane to Jules—the only one of them not armed. “You hand over your weapons in the next three seconds or your companion dies. Three.”
Jules’s eyes went wide, meeting Kane’s. They communicated a horrified, silent plea, and for a moment, Kane was torn. In his periphery, he saw Zaria shifting farther and farther to his left; to his surprise, she hadn’t said a word.
Had she not been here, Kane undoubtedly would have let Jules die. He was no longer terribly important to their plot, and if they failed, Fletcher’s life was on the line. How could anyone begrudge Kane for choosing Fletcher over Jules? And yet if anythingdidhappen to Jules, Kane knew without question that Zaria wouldn’t continue.
“Two.”
Price had spoken the truth, and it drove Kane mad. Warddidn’thave his back, and yet Kane dropped Ward’s name whenever it suited him, trying to make it seem as though he did. What an inconvenient time for the young sergeant to finally wise up.
“One. Last chance, Hunt.”
And Kane was still completely undecided. He heard Fletcher hiss his name under his breath.
A shot was fired, then another.
ZARIA
ZARIA FIRED DIRECTLY ATPRICE’S CHEST.
Her second shot swept his companion off his feet, and then both were on the ground in an unseemly jumble of uniform-clad limbs.
