Page 116 of Marked By Moonlight

“What?” Mina asked sleepily.

I forced myself to relax, other than the tight wrap of my arms around her.

“Sorry. Just overthinking,” I murmured.

She brought her lips to mine, whispering, “Try overthinking this instead.”

* * *

At nine the next morning, I jutted my jaw and listened to Gordon drone on about the timeline for the day. He was furious with us — well, me — and it showed in each of his growly, bitter statements.

Last day of this piss-poor mission,Bene murmured into my mind.By this time tomorrow, we should be back at the château.

As desperately as I wanted that, I would believe it when I saw it.

Back at the château for as long as Mina lets us,Roux added glumly.

There was that too — something she and I hadn’t gotten around to discussing. But I was committed to theone thing at a timeplan now, and that item was much, much farther down the list.

Next, Gordon outlined the final details of his plan. Then he checked his watch, muttering something about keeping his pilot waiting.

I rolled my eyes. Of course. The pilot. Of his private jet. Such an inconvenience.

“Mina and Roux will go to Madame Petrova’s and oversee the transportation of the painting to the drop point,” Gordon instructed.

I kept my lips sealed, though my dragon raged inside.

“Afterward,” Gordon continued, “Mina will take the train home.”

She gulped. “Home?”

“Home,” he said firmly.

We all froze. Bad news, because that meant Gordon expected the shit to hit the fan. But good news too, because I wanted her safe.

Her wide, anxious eyes met mine.

Gordon held up a hand. Celeste pressed an envelope into it, which Gordon handed to Mina.

She blinked. “What’s this?”

“Your train ticket,” Celeste snipped.

Mina peeked inside. “I see,” she said, looking up slowly. “Will Szabo get a matching one this time as well?”

Gordon looked genuinely confused, but Celeste…

For the briefest of instants, she flashed anoops, caught-in-the-actexpression. If I hadn’t been looking for it, I would have missed it. But I didn’t — and neither did Mina.

“What do you mean?” Gordon demanded, unamused.

It meant we’d been right to suspect Celeste. But why would she hire Szabo to go after us?

Mina held Celeste’s gaze. “Never mind. Back to arrangements.”

Gordon grumbled under his breath and stuck up his hand again. When Celeste didn’t move, he snapped his fingers. “The contracts, dammit.”

Celeste jolted into action and handed him four more envelopes, which he distributed — one each to me, Roux, and Bene, with a fourth for Henrik, which he entrusted to Mina. Then he begrudgingly pulled a pen from his breast pocket — one of those fancy pens that cost as much as a compact car — and handed it to me.