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Including a bright red BMW.

An awful lot like the one currently sitting on the bottom of the ocean off the coast of Casablanca.

“Fyo,” I gasp, releasing the button on my radio. “Get to the car show. I think there’s junk in my trunk.”

Moments later, Fyodor and a group of his best clear the room. Using some excuse of protocol.

“Someone needs to move one of the cars.”

Props to guy for a believable reason. We really do need to move one of the cars.

Lying under the back of the Beamer together several tense minutes later, we stare up at the mess of wires, linked through the rear engine of the legendary, one-of-a-kind car. Apparently, the i16 never made it to production. But someone got one.

And my brother put a bomb in it.

“What are the chances you know how to disarm this thing?”

“Higher than yours.” Fyodor mumbles, pinching a cluster of wires. “If I cannot, I could try to drive it out, but he may have it wired to blow.”

“Not to mention that you’d have to drive it toward the party to get to the entrance.”

“Da.”

“From the second floor.”

“It’s a problem.”

“You’re not colorblind are you? Cause that would be?—”

“I can see fine. We will need to evacuate soon.” Not that we’ve found a timer yet. “You should go.”

“And just leave you here like you’re…” I can’t find the right word.

“Expendable?” He turns his head, giving me a dry look.

My mouth drops open. “Youdolove me.”

“That was a good movie. Now get the fuck out of here and let me try and save the day. You go save Vanya.”

“She hardly needs saving.”

“If your brother is half the killer you say…”

I nod, locking Fyo with a stare. Right before I slide out from under the car, dropping down the levels of the display stage.

She doesn’t respond to radio. So I rush back toward the ball, cutting through the front hallway to avoid foot traffic. I think I catch a glimpse of her running on the level above, the glass-walled rails glaring and obscuring my vision.

I stumble to a halt overlooking the ballroom, scanning the crowd, looking for any sign of movement. So many people. There’s no way we get them out in time if Ero blows the car or we run out of time.

Then the entire world quakes.

A shockwave takes most of the guests from their feet as the deafening sound rattles through the building, bursting the floor to ceiling windows, dimming the lights, cracking the floor.

I’m tossed to the ground, debris cascading down around me.

In the haze, I hear screams, shouts.

But as some of it clears, it appears that the damage was minimal. Which means Fyodor must have gotten the bomb out. Or minimized the blast.