Page 14 of Even Robots Die
I need to recalibrate all the bullets. I can’t have this happen again. They aren’t made to kill, just to give me time to escape and yes, maybe to knock them out in a way that will hit their pride.
But they’re not supposed to kill.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I need to change the timer. Maybe to make them slightly bigger to store more energy, I need to …
“I take it you don’t often have to shock them more than three times.”
Brice’s words cut off my train of thought and I stumble on the ground.
He catches my arm and lifts me up.
“Defibrillators usually only shock three times,” I tell him, half in a daze.
What if it happened other times? What if I’ve killed people already and don’t know?
“Your heart is beating faster than his,” Brice says, and then he gets closer to my ear and adds, “It beats faster than when you lie.”
8
Brice
Florentine—Miss F. as she likes to be called when she works—turns bewildered eyes in my direction at my words.
The vixen thought I didn't catch her when she lied? She doesn’t know me well enough.
After raising Cassiopé who loved nothing more than sneaking out, I’m too used to it. I can sniff a lie kilometers away.
And I must admit, Florentine is good. She’s very good. There was barely a hitch in her heartbeat when she told me she needed to be the one to wake my men.
I let her believe that she fooled me. It was easier this way.
But now I don’t need her to be compliant anymore.
I don’t need her to heal anyone the same way she has anymore.
“How?” she asks. It’s only one word, but it carries all the disbelief in the world.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” I tell her with a smirk.
I suddenly have the need to kiss her, though. Why the fuck did I use that expression? It’s like my brain is clouded when I’m close to her.
I release her arm quickly.
Yes, it’s better when I’m not as close to her. I can breathe again and forget all about that sweet red currant, vanilla and rose perfume that seems to surround her.
“Where is the jet?” Florentine asks.
It seems like the cat is out of the bag.
Her smell clouded my judgment and I needed to get away, but I now remember why I was keeping her so close.
For just a second, I forgot I was hiding the fact the jet wasn’t there anymore.
Too late now, though.
“I sent it back to Paris,” I answer her without a single thread of guilt.
