Kane’s mouth went dry. He shook his head sharply at Zaria, trying to persuade her to be quiet, but she continued to ignore him. Instead, she yanked the necklace out from beneath the collar of her dress, letting the crimson stone catch the light of the remaining solanum crystals overhead.
Even Price, who couldn’t have had much knowledge about such things, was visibly awestruck. His throat shifted, his chin trembling. “Is that—”
“You know exactly what it is,” Zaria said. “I’ll give it to you, but only if you let Kane go. Return it to George Waterhouse, and reap the benefits of a continued partnership with the kingpin, while gaining all the acclaim that comes with uncovering the identity of the Curator. Or”—she shrugged—“someone can find your body here tomorrow morning.”
A sneer lifted Price’s top lip, though it looked forced. “You wouldn’t get away with killing me. I’m apolice inspector.”
Zaria was unmoved. “Yet I expect you die like any other man. Do you want the necklace or not, Inspector?”
And that was the moment in which Kane decided he fully and truly loved Zaria Mendoza. It didn’t change anything now, of course—but he felt it just the same. He was not a man made for such things. It was a fact proven many times over that those he loved were likely to destroy him. Still, whatever inherent flaw existed in his very nature, it had drawn him to Zaria over and over again in a way that he was powerless to resist, even when it defied all logic and good sense.
With difficulty, Kane tore his gaze away from her and back toPrice. “Make your choice,” he told the man. “We can start over, Richard. Forget any of this happened, and stay out of each other’s way unless something necessitates our cooperation. Given what we are, I expect that’s as good as it’s going to get.”
Finally—although he did it with a grimace—Price nodded. His voice was curt as he said, “You have a deal, Durante. It’s a truce. For now.”
“For now,” Kane agreed.
“And keep an eye on this one,” Price added, his frown shifting to Zaria. “She’s far too cunning for a woman. With her at your side, I’d say you’ve all but got the dark market in the palm of your hand.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Zaria said coolly. She flung the necklace to the floor at the inspector’s feet, never lowering the revolver.
Kane, meanwhile, tried not to let the pain at Price’s words show on his face. Because Zaria wouldn’tbeat his side—not for much longer. Not when there were no threats or blackmail keeping her here. He forced a cocky grin. “Nice doing business with you. But if I could give you a piece of advice?”
Price lifted his gaze reluctantly skyward. “Does it matter if I agree?”
Kane ignored that, leaning closer to the man, his mouth still faintly curved in triumph. “Never underestimate the cunning of a woman, Inspector.”
ZARIA
Why did you do that?” Kane demanded the moment they were alone. His expression was pained. “Why would you give Price the necklace?”
Zaria cut him a sidelong glance. The rain had finally ceased, but the sandy path leading away from Hyde Park was a mess of puddles and muck. “What was it you told the inspector before we left? Something about not underestimating…?”
She let the question trail off as comprehension lit Kane’s face. “You gave him the forgery.”
Unable to help her grin, Zaria fished the primateria source from the pocket of her skirts. It dangled between them, the carmot red as blood in the moonlight, before she shoved it away once more.
“How—?”
“I saw it the night we spoke on the balcony.” She grimaced, unsure how Kane would respond. Of course,spokewas hardly the word, andher cheeks heated as she continued. “The bottom drawer of your desk was open just enough for it to catch my attention. I grabbed it then.”
“Do I even want to know why?” he asked, arching a brow.
“I was going to use it to bargain with Price, in case we couldn’t find the Curator in time.”
For a beat, only the sound of their wet footsteps was audible. Then Kane laughed—really laughed, the sound soft but genuine. “You idiot. That’s whatIhad planned to do with it.”
“Oh,” Zaria said, a bit sheepish. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to regret the decision. Not if it meant she got to see Kane’s amusement as a result. He was unbearably handsome when he laughed, those sharp-hewn features softening into something more boyish, less guarded.
“You think Waterhouse and his exhibitors won’t notice it’s a fake?”
She shrugged. “I guess it depends on how closely they look. No one noticed the first time, did they? I only returned exactly what we stole.”
Kane shook his head, bemused. “Fair enough. I suppose time will tell.”
The rest of the walk to Moore & Sons was silent, neither of them appearing to know how to put all that had happened into words. It seemed impossible that only yesterday they had been making their way to Mansion House, still clueless as to who the Curator might be. Yesterday Zaria had been a daughter in search of her mother, that tiny light in her stoked by foolish hope.
She didn’t know what she was now. A murderer, she supposed. A thief. An alchemologist. A girl who would never truly know the love of a family, and who would have to learn to be okay with that.
