Page 11 of Gemini Queen
Finally spotting my clutch on the floor, I scoop it up and motor for the exit. “Well, tootles! It’s been funsies—”
“Just where d’you think you’re going?” Whatever else he is, this guy’s Flash freaking Gordon on his feet. Because he’s blocking my exit in a heartbeat, hair still tangled around his shoulders, shirt still open around his chest.
Mocking and dangerous as fuck all.
Adrenaline spurts through me and gets my Irish up. I level him with a warning look. “Nowhere you can stop me from getting. Don’t even think that bomb was the only rabbit I’ve got up my nonexistent sleeve, Adam.”
Anger pulses in his eyes like twin suns. But he reacts the way I figure he will. Shifting an arrogant hip to lean against the doorframe and folding his arms across his chest in silent challenge.
I can practically hear that liquid purr of his roll through my head.How do you fancy you’ve going to dislodge me, then?
And Isodon’t have time for these head games.
Behind him the hallway’s packed with panicked and disheveled people, jostling and shouting and cursing over the siren, basically stampeding from the poker den for the emergency stairs out back. It’s like the running of the bulls in Pamplona out there. In fact, I’d almost feel guilty over all that panic if Wang’s friends weren’t Russianbratva, Hong Kong triads, and assorted other bottom feeders who’d cheerfully pimp their own kids for a buck.
Anyway, this mass panic’s going down precisely according to plan. Which I’d normally claim credit for, with professional pride.
Except this is exactly the moment I’m supposed to be slipping into Wang’s unguarded office and ghosting off with that egg. Not to mention the damn microchip that finally spells freedom from my father and that hit he’s put out for my head.
Right now, according to my dive watch, I’m an epic ninety seconds behind schedule for my Fabergé snatch-and-grab.
And I’m never late on the job.
Ronin’s amber eyes lock on mine. And I swear to Christ it’s like he lifts the thought right out of my head.
“Don’t you blooming get it?” he exclaims. “There. Is. No. Chip. No miracle reimage of Mick Gemini’s hard drive with the overrides and the codewords for his entire security apparatus for sale on the black market under the search term ‘casino heist,’ just sitting in Wang’s wall safe on New Year’s Eve camouflaged in a Fabergé egg waiting for you and your littleménageto pinch. This whole thing’s a bloody setup.”
The bottom drops from my stomach and my face goes numb. I literally feel like hurling. Because Cleo did the intel for this job—that’s her specialty—and she’s freaking convinced it’s legit.
But something about the way Ronin’s talking? That tells me he’s convinced it’s not.
And if he isn’t lying...if this really is a setup…
The staccato bark of machine gun fire makes me jump a good two feet. Therat-a-tat-tatof violence is exploding from the pool deck. Or maybe from Wang’s office. And it’s getting a whole lot closer.
“Cheese on toast,” I whisper. If this is a setup, those are Gemini hit men.
And they’re coming for me.
“It’s about bloody time,” Ronin mutters, and it’s like he just read my mind again. I don’t know much about the heritage I’ve renounced, which is a deliberate choice on my part. I can’t be tempted if I don’t know what I’m missing, right? But I do know there are warlocks that can do that—read minds—and maybe he’s one of them.
“Which means you need to come. With. Me.” He bites off the words, every syllable crackling with impatience when I hesitate. “Withus.”
Well, shit, now there’s anus? Sure, there was that one weird moment, when he was riding me and I was losing my mind in about fifty different ways, when I pretty much hallucinated this tall shadowy figure with Renaissance hair looming over Ronin’s shoulder and fucking biting him in the dim light. A shadow with glowing crimson eyes and freakingfangs. But I totally know we’re alone in here, so I ignored my own instincts.
Pretty sure I won’t be repeatingthatmistake.
Another sputter of machine gun fire pummels the air, mixed with the crash of shattering glass and a smatter of screams. Now my heart’s pumping fight-or-flight adrenaline through every synapse and the endorphins are making me twitchy.
And I’m not the only one. Ronin’s watching my face, intent and alert as a crouching tiger. If he had a tail, it would be lashing.
But the bastard’s still blocking my escape. And he’s not here to rescue me from my own idiocy out of the kindness of his Christian heart, is he? Because I’m pretty sure he’s not even Christian.
Nope. He’s here to take me to Icarus.
And I’m sure as shit not going.
“Oh, that’s brilliant.” His topaz eyes narrow to slits. Maybe heisreading my mind. “Zara. I’m telling you. We’ve a wayout.”
