Page 71

Abby

R odrigo stands as soon as the lamp goes on. “I don’t appreciate being locked inside—”

“I suggest you stay where you are, Mr. Cardenas, and enjoy your drink.” Jacey’s voice is as icy and clipped as I remember it, the faint, hard-to-place accent and flat intonation. “It will be the last one you ever have, so do feel free to top up your glass while I pay my rather substantial bill.”

He doesn’t wait to see if his order has been obeyed before tilting his chin toward Pavel. “Shall we?”

“Sir.” Pavel inclines his head. His smile is certainly strained, but he’s doing an incredible job of remaining calm, despite being alone in a room with a man he must know is planning to kill him as soon as he hands over the Fabergé egg.

“There is a tablet on the table in front of you,” Pavel says. “Please use it to make payment. As soon as I have confirmation, you will receive a personal code to open the case.” His voice is remarkably steady for someone under so much pressure.

“You put on a good show, my friend.” Jacey’s hands move over the tablet as he speaks. “And you do resemble Azad,” he says coolly, throwing the tablet down onto the table. “I’ll give you that much. I imagine that is why Leon chose you, no?”

Pavel’s smile has faded completely.

I’m frozen in place, torn between a visceral desire to bolt and the knowledge that doing so will only result in the bullet I’ve so far managed to avoid.

As if reading my mind, Jacey turns toward the couch on which we’re all sitting.

“There’s no point trying to run, Abby. Although I will say I’ve been rather impressed over the years.

You led me on quite the dance.” He’s still seated, the lamp falling full on his face, and it’s that which scares me more than anything else.

He has no intention of letting any of us leave this room alive.

“I might have kept you alive for a time, you know,” he says conversationally, “if you hadn’t decided to open your mouth to Rodrigo here. I confess I was surprised, when you two pulled your little disappearing act in Bangkok. I thought you were both smarter than that.

“And Lucky.” Jacey turns to the diminutive Thai girl as he draws on his cigar, the red tip adding a demonic cast to his dark eyes. “I might have hoped for a little more gratitude, given how many years we have spent together. Unfortunately you, too, have run out of chances.”

His eyes shift to Mary and Yrsa, who are huddled together, their faces pale and terrified. He looks back at me.

“You should never have dragged these two into our affairs, Abby.” He blows a cloud of cigar smoke into the air. “Their deaths are on your heads. Normally I would let you live with that regret for a while, but unfortunately, time is not something I am inclined to play with tonight.”

“You’re a dead man.” Rodrigo’s voice shocks me out of stillness. I turn to find him glaring at Jacey. “You killed my father, and you stole from me. No matter what happens tonight, the cartel will not forget those sins. ”

Jacey doesn’t smile. His face, as expressionless as I remember, doesn’t move at all. Looking at him now, I suddenly realize why I felt so lost as I searched for him.

Jacey is like a blank, nondescript page.

Average height, though he’s clearly fit and strong. Brown hair, unremarkable features, and flat eyes. He is the kind of man who could easily move unnoticed in a crowd.

Utterly forgettable, I suppose, to someone who passes him in the street.

Just not to me. Or to anyone else unlucky enough to know who he is.

“Your father was a foolish old man who should not have pried into affairs that were not his own.” Jacey relights his cigar, drawing on it as he stares coldly at Rodrigo.

“It’s a lesson I’d thought you might have learned from.

But clearly not, given tonight’s rather crude trap.

Did you honestly think you could just walk in here with a dozen of your cartel goons, and what—simply shoot me, then walk out? ”

He shakes his head. “Your men are dying as we speak,” he says softly, eyeing us through the smoke. “And the only reason you are still breathing is because the man who put you up to this ridiculous scheme has yet to show his face.”

He stubs out his cigar. When he raises his hand again, there’s a pistol in it. “I suggest you save us all some time and tell me where Leon is.” He cocks the pistol and aims it at me. “But first—Abby.”

This is how I die.

Right up to this moment, I’ve clung to the hope that Dimitry will burst through the door.

But if he was still alive, he’d be here by now.

I should have known , I think dully. I should never have agreed to this.

Jacey’s gun is pointing directly at me, the bullet that missed me back in Bogotá only seconds away .

It’s too late for regrets.

I close my eyes.

A gunshot cuts the air, sharp and deadly.

It takes a second before I realize I haven’t been hit.

“There’s no need for anybody to come looking for me, Jacob.”

My eyes fly open.

Jacey is still sitting in the chair. But he’s not holding a gun anymore. He’s not holding anything at all, because his hand is shredded to ribbons. He’s staring up at the dais, his thin mouth stretched in a strange parody of a smile.

“You disappoint me, Leon,” he says softly. “I had hoped you might run the auction in person.”

In slow motion, my eyes follow his to the dais, where Leon is standing beside Pavel, the gun in his hand trained directly on Jacey.

“But I know how much you enjoy the game, Jacob.” The fury etched in every line of Leon’s face isn’t fresh. It’s old and worn, like metal on a shield that has faced a thousand battles. “And since this will be the last time you ever play, I wanted to make it worth both our time.”

I stare between the two men, trying and failing to make sense of any of this.

“Either you overestimate your own abilities,” Jacey says softly, staring up at Leon, “or the years have led you to underestimate my own.” His unnervingly blank face makes him seem impervious to both his destroyed hand and the gun currently pointing at him.

“Either way, I fear you have miscalculated, my friend.”

“The guards outside this room are already dead.” Leon takes a step forward, slate eyes boring into Jacey. “And the rest soon will be.”

Jacey’s eyes narrow slightly. “Impressive,” he says quietly. “But still not enough. ”

Leon’s mouth curls. “Zinaida Melikov sends her regards, by the way.”

Zinaida?

The faintest spark of hope flickers to life inside me.

“It’s Zinaida’s team you have to thank for the bodies outside this door.” Leon’s gun points unwaveringly at Jacey. “The guards on your gate apparently don’t see women in evening dress as a threat. A mistake, in this case, given how many of us came in their limousines.”

“Zinaida Melikov.” Jacey’s face hardens. “That bitch is living on borrowed time.”

“If I were you,” Leon says coldly, “I’d be grateful Zinaida is in Thailand, waiting to help the girls you kidnapped, instead of here in my place. We both know that whatever happens to you now is nothing compared to your fate if Zinaida gets her hands on you.”

There is a shout from somewhere beyond the door, and the sudden rattle of gunshot.

“None of this matters.” Jacey sounds suddenly impatient. “Her women will all die here. And you should have known better than to come to me alone, Leon.”

A shadow moves somewhere in my peripheral vision.

“Oh, he didn’t come alone.”

I freeze. The voice coming from behind me is an echo from my past.

From the grave.

“Forgive me, my son.” Juan Cardenas’s hand comes down to grip Rodrigo’s shoulder, though his gun, like Leon’s, remains trained on the man in the chair. “A necessary deception, I’m afraid.”

Rodrigo stares up at the man behind us, the blood draining from his face.

Jacey’s smile has disappeared entirely. “I commend you, Senor Cardenas. Not many manage to fake their own death and get away with it.”

“Well, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Jacob?” Leon walks slowly toward him. “You’re going to tell me what happened to my wife,” he says coldly. “And then, Jacob Cohen—you’re going to die.”