Page 102 of Marked By Moonlight

I thought it over as I dialed. Surely an arms dealer wouldn’t be put off by the murder of a competitor? What had changed his mind, then?

Bogdan was apologetic but vague. When I pressed him about why he was pulling out of the deal, he hesitated, and the sound of footsteps indicated he was moving to a more private location. When he stopped, his voice dropped, and his tone changed.

“You seem like a nice girl to me, Hermina.”

Not exactly my name, but I was too anxious to interrupt.

“I would hate to see you fall down any harm,” he went on ominously.

Any harm to fall upon you,I silently corrected, but boy, did I get the gist.

“So I suggest you remove yourself from this deal before the fan spreads the shit,” he continued. “Leave the profits — and the risks — to others.”

“Risks?” I gulped.

Silence was his only reply, and my imagination filled the void with graphic images of powerful hands choking the life out of poor Raisa.

“Do you think her death was meant to send a message?” I finally asked.

He laughed, though there was no humor in it. “The phone call I received was much clearer.”

I gaped. “Someone threatened you? Who?”

He thought that over, then said, “I have made a fortune — and lived to a ripe old age — by recognizing when the reward outweighs the risk. And let me assure you, this is not one of those times.”

I froze because, yikes. If an arms dealer found this too risky, I sure as hell should too.

The line went silent as we both chewed over our own thoughts — and fears, in my case.

A thought struck me, and I glanced at the office door. Still firmly closed.

I walked to the far end of the suite and whispered into the phone. “Will you answer one question, please?”

“It depends on the question,” he chuckled.

I found myself admiring his ability to maintain a sense of humor in a time of murder and mayhem. Essential qualities for a man in his line of work, I supposed.

“What commission did Gordon say he would charge?” I whispered.

Bogdan huffed. “Twenty percent — on top of the selling price. Outrageous. But fitting, perhaps, given the risks.”

Years ago, I’d interned at an auction house, andriskshad occasionally come up, but never, ever the kind that left people dead. What had I gotten myself into?

Bogdan sighed, signaling the end of our call. “Give my best to Anastasia Nikolaevna. It was truly a pleasure.”

“I’m sure she would be happy to hear from you,” I threw in. It was a terrible time to play matchmaker, but I couldn’t help myself. “Even if that might be some time from now and not in relation to artwork.”

He chuckled. “You think so?”

I did indeed. And why not strive to create something positive amid all this shit spread by the proverbial fan?

“I believe so, yes,” I said.

* * *

The minute I could flee Celeste’s suite, I did, heading next door to where the others waited. Everyone looked up when I opened the door, and while no one said a word, I saw the question marks in their eyes.

Most of all, though, I saw Marius, looking more anxious than ever. More than I thought him capable of.