Thirteen Page 43


I shouldn’t have let him go. Goddamn it, I shouldn’t have let him go.

Focus. Don’t think about Jake. Think about myself and how the hell I was going to get to that van—

Will stiffened. He tracked a noise. As I lifted my head, I saw something moving across the floor. A red spot. My tiny light ball? No, that—

I lunged out of the way just as the dot from the rifle sight began to creep across me. A crack, so close it made my ears ring. The shot hit Will in the side and sent him smacking into the crate, the box tumbling, the crash drowning out everything else as I leaped up, hunched over, ready to run—

“Stay where you are!” a voice barked.

A gun barrel rose from the darkness. I turned to run. A figure stepped from the shadows behind me. Another to the other side. A fourth. Four masked and armed gunmen, their weapons trained on me.

“I’m Savannah Levine,” I said, the words spilling out so fast they were barely intelligible. “The Cortezes know I’m here. Sean will know I’m here. My brother. Sean Nast.”

Please, please let one of you be on Sean’s side. Let one of you at least believe he’ll be your next CEO. I don’t care whether you think I’m his sister or not. He thinks I am. That means something.

Silence. Then one gun dropped. Two more inched down, uncertain. The fourth didn’t budge, but the gunman shifted his weight, his face mask turning toward his comrades.

The squeak of another pair of booted feet approaching. The officer who’d lowered his gun turned toward the newcomer.

“Sir, it’s—”

“Shit.” The newly arrived officer muttered the word under his breath. Then he pulled off his mask. “Miss Nast.”

The one who hadn’t lowered his gun made a noise deep in his throat and shifted again. The senior officer’s glare shut him down. I recognized the officer. His name was … Damn it, I couldn’t remember. Lucas always said it was important to know the names of everyone in a Cabal. It was a lesson he’d learned from his father, and one Sean emulated. Treat your employees with respect, starting with learning their names.

As sweat dripped down my face, I really, really wished I’d listened. When four armed security officers surround you, knowing the name of the guy in charge made a big difference.

“H-hello,” I said. “We met in San Francisco.”

 

He nodded. Not rude. Not friendly either. Just polite. A couple of years ago, there’d been some security threat against the inner family, so Sean had to bring two extra guards on our weekend riding trip. This guy had been one of them, which made him Sean’s man. He had to be, if he’d called me Miss Nast. God, I hoped he was.

He motioned for the others to lower their guns.

“We’re on the same side,” I said quickly. “This guy—” I pointed to Will, dead on the floor. “He was your contact. I’d infiltrated the group. The Cortezes know about it—”

He lifted his hand, cutting me off, then turned to the others. “This is level-four security, boys. I’m going to need to take Miss Nast outside. I want you to continue combing the building.”

As he waved them off, he took my elbow and whispered, “Hurry.”

We got about five paces before a voice said, “Captain Kaufman. Who do you have there?”

Kaufman froze. He started to tell me to run, then snapped his mouth shut. I couldn’t run with armed men behind me. Kaufman’s gaze dropped in unspoken apology as he took hold of my arm.

“Sir,” he said. “It’s Savannah … Levine.”

The man standing ten feet away didn’t wear a uniform. Didn’t carry a gun. He didn’t need to. It was Josef Nast.

 

 

EIGHTEEN

 

Josef Nast. My father’s brother. My uncle, though he’d never admitted as much. We’d only glimpsed each other in passing, his look always freezing any greeting—friendly or sarcastic—in my throat.

I got that same look now, a slow once-over of distaste and contempt.

“Savannah,” he said. “Can’t stay out of trouble, I see.”

“I—”

“You’ve put yourself in a very dangerous position. Consorting with known terrorists. Running through a dark warehouse, where no one can be expected to see who you are.”

“I—”

“You’ve caused enough trouble for my family, Savannah. Your paternity claims sully my brother’s reputation. The fact that Sean believes them makes my father’s chosen heir look gullible and weak. Now turn around.”

“No.”

“I said—”

“If you’re going to shoot me, you’ll do it looking into my eyes, which tell you exactly who my father is, as much as you might hate to believe it.”

 

He didn’t look me in the eyes. He couldn’t because I was right—my eyes were his eyes, Nast eyes, that unmistakable bright blue.

“Get on your knees, Savannah.”

“Sir—” Kaufman stepped forward. “You can’t—”

“You and you.” Josef pointed at two of the others. “Take Captain Kaufman outside. Hand him over to Anderson. He’s being charged with insubordination.”

“No.” Kaufman moved to my side as his two comrades stepped forward. “I won’t stand by—”

Josef’s energy bolt knocked Kaufman off his feet. “Then you won’t stand by. You two, take him outside.”

“But he’s right,” said a voice in the darkness. “You can’t do this, Josef. And you won’t.” Mom stepped up behind Josef and put her sword tip to the back of his neck. “Can you feel that?” To his men, she said, “I’ll have his head by his feet before anyone can pull the trigger. Lower your weapons.”

“Don’t you dare—” Josef shut up as the sword dug deeper.

“Lower your weapons!”

When one raised his rifle, Mom kicked Josef in the back of the legs, then lunged and cleaved the officer’s arm off at midbicep. It happened so fast that he just stood there, watching the gun tumble to the ground in his severed hand. Then he started to scream.

I hit Josef with a knockback before he could rise. Mom planted a foot on his back and nudged the sword-tip along his spine, positioning it between his ribs. Then she nodded toward the injured officer, his screams now reduced to shocked heaves as he frantically tried to staunch the bleeding.

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