“I should introduce you to Mordak Lucio. He has a shop not far from here that’s jammed to the rafters with tribal pieces. Back when I used to be a th—” The incriminating word vacuumed into her mouth before ratting out her thieving past. Her heart boomed at the close call, nearly drowning out the rowdy partiers milling on the street.
Thane stared at her patiently, obviously waiting for her to finish. When she didn’t immediately comply, he tipped his head. “You were saying?”
“Never mind, not important. Besides, I want to hear more about your antiquities business. Are you planning to open up a shop?”
“Thinking about it. I’ve started scouring the local real estate for a potential spot. Who knows, maybe we’ll end up becoming neighbors.”
The unmistakable flirtation was there again. She plucked at the pleat in her pants. If only she felt the same earth-shifting, palm-sweating, about-to-jump-out-of-her-skin excitement that he-who-shall-not-be-named elicited.
Thane cleared his throat. “My apologies. It just occurred to me I’ve been monopolizing your evening.” His trousers made a soft scritching sound when he shoved from the chair.
“Would you like to have dinner some time?” Where the hell did that come from? She dug her fingernails into her thighs and blinked up at Thane.
A slow smile stretched his mouth. “Absolutely. How does this coming weekend sound?”
“Perfect.” Holy hell, someone stop me before I agree to conceive his children.
“It’s a date then. I’ll stop by later in the week, and we can firm up plans.”
All she could do was nod dumbly as he turned his back and strolled off into the crowd. No, not the only thing she could do. She had a nice solid wall behind her perfect for banging her thick skull against.
She wasn’t romantically interested in Thane. It’d be a thousand degrees of wrong to give him false hope. But she couldn’t very well call him back and retract her offer.
Times like this, she really wished Mara wasn’t off on her honeymoon. Having another female to commiserate with her pathetic plight would go a long way toward easing the tension pounding at her temples.
Plus, she needed someone to lend a hand finishing the remaining bottles of Larry’s.
“Oh, who am I kidding?” If ever she needed to tie one on, it was now. Heaving a sigh, she stretched for the nearest bottle.
Chapter Three
Jerrick snapped to with a groggy start. Only instead of harsh light, he was met with Lex Tarker’s shocked face.
“I swore you were dead.” Lex tripped over his own tongue. “You barely had a heartbeat, for gods’ sake.”
It took forever to wade through the murky morass of his memory. Bleary-eyed, Jerrick scanned his surroundings. A massive empty warehouse. Colorful graffiti stenciling the dull gray walls. Why was he—?
Events from earlier ambushed his brain.
Avi. Those motherfuckers had threatened her.
Fear an icy blade in his chest, he lurched to his feet. He took no time to ponder if his captors or Lex were responsible for loosening his bindings, and instead raced to the door at the opposite end of the building. He tried the knob and found it locked. If those assholes thought that’d slow him down, they were in for a rude awakening.
Any other day, it would have been an affront to his skills to rely on his magic. When it came to Avi, he was more than willing to bend his self-imposed rules. The sturdy metal proved no match against the forceful blast of his fury and panic. White-hot sparks ricocheting off the steel, the door sheared from its hinges and flew several feet before careening into a nearby garbage bin. He loped outside, desperately scanning the shadowed lot. There were no buildings beyond the warehouse. No sign of life. And sure as hell no way to get the fuck out of there short of hoofing it or calling for a transit cab.
Impatience and fear staking their hazardous toll, he dashed inside the warehouse. A sliver of relief embedded beneath his skin when he spotted his jacket hugging the base of a steel support beam.
His fearful glances darting every which way, Lex tailed him across the room. “Shouldn’t we, uh, be getting out of here? What if those men come back?”
Ignoring Lex, Jerrick dug inside his jacket’s interior pocket. He pulled out his micro com and a folded sheet of paper that hadn’t been there earlier. He opened it with a rough crackle, his gaze zipping over its contents.
Apologies for the subterfuge, but it was the only way we could be assured your reputation in acquisitions is deserved. Not that the kelluta won’t be enjoyed.
The goddamn tribal statue he’d been hired to lift from the wealthy collector in Gobridier. Sonofabitch. The entire job had been a setup. He crumpled the paper and whipped it to the floor.
“I mean it. I really think we should get out of here.”
Lex’s timid demand cracked through Jerrick’s haze of fury. Transferring every ounce of his rage to the man cowering in front of him, he clamped Lex’s scrawny throat with one hand. “I’m giving you five seconds to tell me what part you’re playing in this shit.”
A strangled gurgle sputtered from Lex. “Y-you’re…ch-choking…me.”
“Kind of the whole idea.” Jerrick squeezed harder. “I can play this game all night, if you want.”
Lex’s face turned a dark shade of red. “R-rather…you didn’t.”
“Then you better start talking.”
“About w-what?”
“Tarker, I’m getting real sick of your bullshit, and having my innards fried has made me an ornerier son of a bitch than usual.” He vised his hand tighter. “And you better believe if they’ve hurt Avi, you’ll be praying for mercy.”
“Avi? Don’t…know… Gaarrg.”
Jerrick loosened his grip, allowing a sliver of air down Lex’s esophagus. Powering on his micro com, he sent a sync link to central transit. After acquiring his coordinates, the dispatcher promised a driver within five minutes. Far as Jerrick was concerned, it was four minutes and fifty-nine seconds he didn’t have. Nerves strung to the breaking point, he cut the link and shoved the com into his pocket before returning his focus to Lex. “Who are your employers? Your five seconds starts now.”
Lex’s eyes grew enormous behind his thick eyeglasses. “Fitzsimons Accounting.”
“Why the fuck would an accounting firm hire a thief?”
“Oh, you mean those employers. I thought you were talking about my nine-to-five job.”
Jerrick could feel his eyeballs throbbing. “Let’s try this again. I want the names of the bastards behind the kelluta job.”
“I don’t know. No names were exchanged.”
“Convenient. We’re at three seconds.”
“Wait!” Lex jerked his head, and his eyeglasses slid down the bridge of his nose. “I have one of their sync-links programmed into my micro.”
Jerrick knew better than to get his hopes up, but his pulse revved anyway. “Where is it?”
“My trouser pocket.”
He used his free hand to fetch the communicator. He clicked it on and shoved it in Lex’s hand before digging his thumb a fraction deeper into the side of the man’s neck. “Pull up the link.”
Lex’s fingers fumbled over the touchpad. “Here, this one.”
Snatching the communicator, Jerrick glanced at the number, committing it to memory before hitting the connector sync. After a few disjointed buzzes from the communicator, a recorded female voice broke through the static and announced the link had been disconnected.
Jerrick hurled the communicator against the wall and glared at Lex.
“I still had a one-year contract on that micro.”