Since I didn’t know what one wore to a crime lord reunion, I decided to err on the side of more formal versus less. I also figured black was the way to go since it helped with blending into the background. Unfortunately, I owned all of two items in black. I had an annoying tendency to want to stand out—too much time spent playing over-the-top Tarot card reader probably. One was an evening gown with a plunging neckline—no. Absolutely not. The other was a long-sleeved lace dress. The last time I’d worn that had been Granny G’s funeral, so it wasn’t exactly the most stylish thing I owned.
I felt like I was going to a funeral anyway so I went with the lace dress after I had the wardrobe AI run it through a refresh cycle. It hit mid-thigh and was a little big on me, but not so much it was noticeable. I added a pair of strappy black heels with the double advantage of being comfortable and making my legs look amazing, and kept my jewelry to a minimum. Except for the engagement ring, of course. That was enough jewelry by itself. I styled my hair poker-straight and went for dark, dramatic makeup. By the time I was done, I would have passed muster for attendance at any memorial service in the city.
I’d pulled Granny G’s cards from the travel case, frowning at their smell. There wasn’t time to send them for a nano-dip before the weekend. Hopefully no one noticed the stink. Still, I spread them over Eleat, hoping they’d air out.
With the few minutes I had to spare, I grabbed a random Tarot deck from my cabinet and laid a quick spread—what did the arrival of the Consortium mean for Alexei and me? I pretty much got what I expected from my final card, Nine of Pentacles, reversed: Plans gone astray. Deals made in bad faith, trickery, and deception. And there was the King of Swords again, my calling card for Konstantin Belikov, sitting in the center of things, spinning lies and spreading deceit. Not quite the Eight of Thorns from yesterday, but not much topped that card.
What I didn’t expect was the Knight of Cups, showing up as an outside influence, again. I’d always associated that card with Alexei, probably because the Knight represented a lover who wouldn’t hurt me even if things ended badly. Now I suspected it was Brody. I would have liked to do another reading for clarity, but there wasn’t time. I hurried to meet the waiting flight-limo. A short ride later, I was dropped off at the unloading platform at the elevator’s base—a floating construct in the middle of the Utopian Ocean.
I paused to gaze at the nanotube cable that ran from the platform up into space, and felt a rush of vertigo. Even though the sky looked ominous with the threat of rain, I could still see the cable stretching upward and disappearing into the darkening clouds. I’d come to realize I didn’t like heights. Living in a sky-scraping condo hadn’t bothered me, but looking at a cable reaching into infinity unnerved me.
I could still see the odd patch of blue sky through the clouds. In one of those patches, I saw a blip of light streaking its way across the blue. I followed with my eyes until the clouds blocked it from sight. Phobos was making one of its three daily trips around the planet. I shivered, unsettled. Then again, I’d felt unsettled about Phobos ever since my Euphoria crash. More so when Brody told me about One Gov’s requests for the Consortium’s geologists. It had gotten to the point where I avoided looking for it in the sky. Why did that tiny moon bother me so much? Was it possible to run a Tarot spread about the moon to figure out why? It couldn’t hurt. Maybe it would even help.
An impersonal hand took my arm and hustled me onward with a businesslike stride before I could consider it further. A minute later, I was brought inside to a small waiting area and promptly deposited in front of Alexei.
He wore a black suit that nicely emphasized his broad shoulders and a black shirt open at the collar. I could see the spider tattoo on his neck and the top of the crucifix on his chest. We looked like a matching set, all dressed in black. Apparently we were going to the same funeral.
“What’s the rush? Am I late?” I asked, looking around at the group of Consortium members. They averted their eyes in that unnerving way they used whenever Alexei was around, as if they didn’t have permission to look at me.
And Alexei…He was staring at my legs. It took a good while before his eyes made it to my face. When they did, I recognized the look, the one that said he needed me alone, all to himself. If he knew about the morning I’d spent with Brody, he wasn’t saying, and I pushed aside any guilt I felt. I belonged with Alexei. There was no place in my life for anyone but him.
“No, you’re right on time,” he said, pulling me into his arms before bending to kiss my cheek. Another kiss behind my ear. A third to my throat. “Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”
“I can guess.”
“Then you’ll know I wish we were doing that instead of this,” he said, before pulling away enough to look down at me. “I’d hoped to escape the political drama when we left Earth, but it seems to have followed us here.”
“I know you don’t want me to, but can I say I ran the cards and I’m worried?”
“It would surprise me if they said anything else, but it’s nothing that can’t be handled.”
“Is everything okay?” I asked, thinking of Brody’s earlier comments. I ran my hands over his chest the way I did sometimes, just needing to feel his reassuring presence. “If something was really wrong, you’d tell me, right?”
He caught my hands and brought them to his mouth, brushing his lips against the insides of my wrists, the way he sometimes did. “Yes, I would tell you.”
There was no opportunity to say more. The quiet drone of the elevator’s engine picked up, growing louder. That meant the carrier would be arriving soon and, with it, its Consortium passengers.
With a final touch of my hair, Alexei let me go. I stood beside him, my arm brushing his as we watched the carrier descend and finally stop. It was a large metal rectangle, and from where we stood, all I could see were thick, windowless doors. The locking mechanism clicked into place, followed by a whoosh of displaced air that had me blinking back tears. I could feel the other Consortium members crowding behind, all vying for positions to greet those arriving. Frankly, I’d have traded spots with any of them, especially if it got me away from Belikov. But if Alexei wanted me there, I would endure this. I felt him take my right hand, squeezing it, though I wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit or his.
The carrier’s outer metal doors opened and chain-breakers exited. Hardly surprising given we were overrun by at least a dozen of our own, as if they were the ultimate Red Mafia accessory no one could leave home without. Then they cleared and we moved to the main event.
My experience with the Consortium on Earth had been limited, so I wasn’t sure what to expect of the parade of men and women that followed. Most were young, some with true youth and some with that hard look of “seen too much, done too much” around the eyes. However, some looked older, which I’d come to learn meant they were well into their second century.
Even with the most basic Renew treatments, the average person could live to one hundred and fifty or so. With more money and access to better treatments, living beyond two hundred wasn’t out of the question, though age started to show in lines around the eyes and mouth, less malleable skin, and a host of minor physical ailments. The Consortium had managed to surpass even that. If a person looked like they might be middle age—what once might have been fifty-five or sixty—that meant they were well into their third century. And if they looked older, it meant scary things indeed.
The first to approach was a blond-haired giant of a man. He barreled down the walkway with a grin, catching Alexei in a bear hug. Since Alexei hadn’t let me go, I got swept up in the crushing hug whether I wanted it or not. He bellowed something in Russian that made absolutely no sense when I translated it literally in my head, before Alexei asked him to speak English for my benefit.
“English, of course!” he boomed with a thick Russian accent after clapping him on the back. Then he gave Alexei a once-over with a critical eye. “Mars seems to agree with you. And is this the woman who caused such an uproar?”
I’d caused an uproar? I hadn’t known that. And the way he said “the woman” made it sound like it had extra significance, like I was The Woman, and there were no others. My free hand was plucked up in his beefy paws and brought to his lips. Eyebrows shot up at the ring.
“Stanis, it’s good to see you too,” Alexei said. Then he meaningfully pulled my hand from the big man’s. “Yes, this is Felicia.”
“Felicia, it is an honor to meet you. I look forward to making your acquaintance.”
“I wish I could say Alexei’s told me all about you, but I have a feeling he’s deliberately kept me in the dark.”
“Alexei, I’m crushed! How could you not tell her of our misspent youth? I’m sure Felicia would find it highly entertaining.” Stanis looked offended.
I grinned at Alexei. “I’m sure I would. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“It would bore you to sleep. Perhaps another time,” he said before turning back to Stanis. “I think you’ll find that once you’re settled, Mars is everything I promised.”
Stanis gave him a smug grin, and they exchanged a look I could only guess at. No doubt growing up together in the Consortium would give them experiences I would never understand.
Then Stanis moved off and I was treated to a dozen or so more introductions—some as enthusiastic as Stanis’s and some much cooler. I’d have to quiz Alexei later; I was usually great with names and faces, but rarely so many at once.
I was beginning to wonder where Belikov was when I was unexpectedly faced with a sandy-haired male with dark brown eyes, bowing stiffly over my hand. I frowned, recognizing him. Dr. Karol Rogov, the Consortium’s tech-med was rising from his bow and watching me with an anxious expression.
The last time I’d seen Karol, he was begging me to save his life. He’d been afraid Alexei would kill him because he’d let slip information about a Consortium project I was never to know about. When I’d learned the truth, it had caused such a rift between Alexei and me, I wouldn’t have cared then or now if Alexei had killed him.
“It’s good to see you, Ms. Sevigny.”
“I don’t know, Karol. Is it?” I answered coldly. I turned to Alexei. “Why didn’t you tell me you invited him?” My tone was surprisingly even, all things considered.
“He understands the scope of the Consortium’s neural interface. He will monitor the connections as we overwrite the CN-net’s coding” was the answer.
“And he’s the only Consortium tech-med you have on the payroll?”
In a quieter voice, Alexei said, “He made me. I need him to monitor me as well.”
I snapped my mouth shut, eyeing Karol with barely concealed loathing. “I’m glad you’re taking precautions, but it doesn’t mean I like this.”
The man actually flinched. “I apologize again, Ms. Sevigny. Our history together may have been rocky, but that shouldn’t influence our future.”
Oh really? We’d see about that. I shot Alexei a look that said we would discuss this later. His said maybe we would, maybe we wouldn’t, and I let it go because I had to.
A hush settled over the group as everyone turned to see Konstantin Belikov make his way toward us. Or rather, be propelled toward us, because he was in a floating mobile-assist chair. I tried to remember when I’d last seen Belikov. It had been nine months ago, in Nairobi. Then, he’d had a nursemaid and his feet shuffled along the floor when he walked. His hair was pure white and flowed over his shoulders and his green eyes were milky with cataracts, which in itself was unusual. Then again, the man was nearly five hundred years old, and despite the Renew treatments, nobody lived forever.
He’d aged significantly since Nairobi. His shoulders and back were stooped and his skin looked translucent and paper-thin. His fingers were curled with signs of joint deterioration, and his hair was dull and limp though still as long as I remembered. I assumed his legs had failed him since he used a mobile-assist chair. They were covered with a dark gray blanket. He looked smaller now, thinner, shrunken, and frail. He had two nursemaids rather than one, and I might have felt some sympathy if they weren’t both busty, doe-eyed blondes.
Beside me, I felt Alexei stiffen. This new Belikov had caught him unawares. Seeing such drastic changes in someone he’d most likely thought would live forever was a shock I don’t think he was prepared to handle. He hadn’t seen death up close before. Not like this, at any rate. I supposed it was one thing to kill people and quite another to watch death slowly overtake them.
Belikov stopped his chair at the end of the ramp, eyeing the both of us. I knew the assembled crowd wanted to see what would happen. So far, everyone had come to Alexei and more or less kissed his ring—symbolically speaking—as if they were all swearing fealty. Would Alexei go to Belikov or would he make the old man come to him? Even I could see the power play at work, though I didn’t know what it meant in the Consortium hierarchy and who bowed to whom. All I knew was I wasn’t moving one sweet inch closer to Belikov than necessary.
After an amount of time that felt like a second shy of forever, Belikov powered his chair over to us. The nursemaids and a few chain-breakers followed in his wake. Alexei’s grip on my hand was just this side of painful. I tugged on his arm, letting him know he needed to either let go or ease up unless he wanted me writhing on the ground with a broken hand. Immediately, he released me. At the same time, Belikov stopped in front of us and held out a frail-looking hand for Alexei to take, which he did, grasping it in both of his.
“How are you?” he asked, bending down to him. “Are you well?”
“As well as can be expected,” Belikov replied, his voice as frail as his body. Though he didn’t have an accent, the words were mumbled. You had to bend closer to listen whether you wanted to or not. “It’s been difficult since you left, but I didn’t come all this way just to say such things to your face. I know everything you do furthers the Consortium’s aims.”
The way he said it sounded like a dig, but Alexei merely replied, “Moving to Mars has put us years ahead of the original timeline, but you will see that soon enough. We should have done this earlier rather than bogging ourselves down in Earth’s failings.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I look forward to seeing your progress.” Then Belikov turned his milky green eyes in my direction. “Hello, Felicia. I see you’re doing well on Mars.”
“Thank you, yes,” I said, fighting to keep the smile on my face. I leaned down to kiss his cheek in greeting, though gods help me, it took everything in me to make the gesture he seemed to expect. He smelled of smoke and some musty, druglike odor I vaguely recognized. I fought not to wrinkle my nose. “Hello, Konstantin. I hope you didn’t find the trip too difficult.”
“I would have preferred not to make it at all, but there’s nothing for it. I’m here now, and I suppose that’s all that matters.”
His tone had me cringing inside, as if implying that now that he was there, he had no intention of leaving. Ever. I kept on smiling because, gods help me, what else could I do? He would be staying with us—him, his nursemaids, and gods knew who else. I’d have to see this man every sol, a man who barely tolerated my existence, ass-gnat that I was. Yeah, it was hard to forget that particular insult.
His eyes narrowed as I pulled away, focusing on my hand when he caught sight of the ring. He reached out and grabbed my wrist with surprising strength, pulling me back in. I would have fallen if Alexei hadn’t slung an arm around my waist.
“What is this?” Belikov asked, looking from the ring, to me, up to Alexei. His tone was accusatory, as if someone had done something without his permission.
“I’ve asked Felicia to marry me. She’s agreed.”
The answer was matter-of-fact and to the point, and while I have to say I didn’t expect hearty congratulations, I certainly didn’t expect the gasps of outrage and horror around us.
“Of course she did,” Belikov said dismissively. “I would be unsurprised to learn otherwise since I’m sure she’s been angling for this since you first arrived.”
The fuck? Angling? Angling? I yanked my hand away from Belikov, furious. So furious I didn’t trust myself to speak. How dare he imply I’d manipulated Alexei into asking me to marry him! That it was a ploy on my part! How dare he!
Before I could blurt anything out, Alexei leaned in, his voice low when he spoke. “Don’t, Konstantin. I am marrying Felicia. I would have married her on Earth had you not interfered. If you speak against her in any way, you will discover what regret truly means.”
When he eased back, he pulled me with him until my back was pressed hard against his chest. When I risked a glance up at him, his expression was so cold, even I had chills, afraid of whatever threat he implied. At the same time, having him tell Belikov off was so hot, I wanted to get him out of his suit and do very bad things with him.
“I see. Then let me be among the first to offer my congratulations. I look forward to the nuptials,” Belikov said, glancing between us. Then his gaze drifted away, dismissing us like servants. “Tell me, where is the newest acquisition you’ve decided to exploit? I’m curious to know if he can perform as advertised and the benefits he’ll provide.”
“Exploit at your recommendation, I think you meant to say. He was not invited,” Alexei said, the words clipped. “He may work for us, but he is not Consortium.”
“Of course. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking,” Belikov replied, his gaze darting around the group. For a moment he looked anxious. It made me wonder what he hoped to see from those assembled.
I wasn’t sure how long the glad-handing might have continued if the sky hadn’t decided to rain. Though it was only a light misting, it had the potential to get worse. So much for my straight hair. Gods, if we could live on Mars, why couldn’t science come up with a hair product that could permanently combat frizz?
The rain got everyone scurrying to the waiting fleet of flight-limos. Alexei let go of me as he began ordering chain-breakers about and got everyone where they needed to be. Belikov’s mobile-assist chair led the way, and the rest followed behind.
I wasn’t sure why, because gods knew my hair was no fan of the rain, but I hung back. Something felt off. My gut was kicking me, urging me to stay where I was rather than follow Alexei and rush madly into the Consortium chaos. It didn’t care about rain or great hair or if I wore impractical high heels while standing in the middle of a growing storm. It only wanted the truth—whatever that was.
And that was when I saw it being unloaded. It had been stowed in back, out of sight so those of us waiting on the platform wouldn’t see it.
Two chain-breakers carried a box. It was rectangular-shaped, quite large, and black so I couldn’t see inside. In fact, it looked like a coffin, easily big enough to transport a human body. Dr. Karol Rogov was with the chain-breakers, watching anxiously as if afraid they might drop some precious cargo. He looked up and saw me watching. Then he nodded imperceptibly. Once, twice—barely a movement of his head really, before he looked away. But it was enough. I knew what he was telling me just as I knew what was in that box.
I took a shaky breath and walked to the flight-limo where Alexei waited. The rain changed from sprinkle to downpour, soaking me to the skin. It felt oddly appropriate, washing away what was false to leave only the truth behind. And with that truth came a horrible, terrible dread.
Mr. Pennyworth was back.
I was quiet during the ride, thinking, probably traumatized too. Did Alexei know? Had he seen the box? He said he’d personally invited Karol to Mars. He had to know. Then why hadn’t he told me? Because he’d known it would upset me? Or maybe he didn’t know, and if he didn’t, that didn’t bode well either.
I watched him talk animatedly with Stanis and another Consortium member named Luka—another big, strapping male with a buzz cut so short I wasn’t sure of his actual hair color. These three seemed to share a closeness that spoke of growing up together. I didn’t know a lot about Alexei’s childhood; he didn’t like talking about it. But seeing him with Stanis and Luka made me wonder if all three were created in the same manner. Had the other two men also been given a chance to head the Consortium as well? It was something to think about, and I watched as they slipped between English and Russian so I could only follow half of what was said. If so, the Consortium certainly liked to breed their boys big and pretty. I decided I’d gotten the best of the three as I snuggled into Alexei, using his warmth to drive away the chill the rain had left behind.
Belikov was in another flight-limo—which I found strange. Why not ride with us? I assumed Alexei and Belikov communicated frequently via the CN-net, but now that they were face-to-face, wouldn’t they want to speak in person? Granted, there were issues with accommodating the mobile-assist chair, the nursemaids, and the guards. Alexei had also made it clear I wasn’t leaving his side. A single flight-limo couldn’t take all of us.
I needed my cards. I need them so badly, my fingers started tapping on my knee. Alexei caught my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. I shot him a look and he arched an eyebrow in return, privately calling me out. He really did know me too well.
“I’m sure there will be time for that later,” he said, then smoothed back strands of wet hair clinging to my cheek.
Naturally, this seemed to require mocking and catcalls from his friends, most of it in Russian, which I didn’t understand since I was still at the “I left my red sweater at the restaurant” portion of my language classes, not the crude sexual innuendo part. And since neither of the men seemed eager to translate and Alexei looked like he wanted to throttle both of them, I figured I was probably never going to find out.
After getting everyone sorted and dropping them off at various locations around Elysium City—with far too many at Alexei’s house in my opinion—they wanted to be entertained. After being cooped up on The Martian Princess for a month and a half, our visitors wanted to enjoy what Mars had to offer. Well, most of them did. Some, like Belikov, disappeared into their rooms to rest. Either that, or to plot; I wasn’t sure which. I almost felt sorry for the unsuspecting citizens of Elysium City. A few of Alexei’s people looked wild and rough around the edges. I could only imagine what they might get up to during Witching Time.
I was supposed to go to class tonight, but decided to skip it—my third in a row. I was never going to learn Russian at this rate. Yet instead of going out, I begged off, saying I was tired, that I didn’t feel well, that I was still in shock from the bombing incident. Maybe it was rude, but I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything if I couldn’t figure out what I saw today. Alexei gave me a hard, inscrutable look, but eventually left without me, taking a horde of overexcited Russians with him.
Grabbing an apple, a glass of water, and as many crackers as I could carry from a kitchen that looked looted by savages, I squirreled myself away in my new office. Alexei said he’d made this part of the house off-limits—no one would be allowed near any of the private rooms we used on a regular basis. I pulled several different Tarot decks out of my cupboard because I was going to need them, woke up Eleat, finally gave in to my gut feeling, and submerged myself in the cards.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I heard a scratch at the door. A quick time-check showed me it was nearly Witching Time. I’d been at it almost six hours. No wonder I felt like crap—bleary-eyed, headachy, and my wrists and fingers ached from all the shuffling I’d done. I’d run through every question, every scenario, laid spreads for everyone I’d met today, made notes, compared one deck’s reading against another, but I had an answer. Unfortunately, it was an answer that scared the shit out of me.
I opened the door to find Alexei, looking rumpled. Only two buttons of his shirt were fastened but they were in the wrong holes, exposing most of his chest and part of his abs, his tattoos on full display. He reeked of smoke, alcohol, and a cloying perfume that made my eyes water. And was that lipstick on the side of his neck, near the spider tattoo? Definitely not mine.
The way he walked unsteadily into the room, clutching the door frame as he passed it, left me gaping. Was he drunk? He’d claimed that was nearly impossible because he metabolized alcohol too quickly. Yet if he was drunk, what the hell had he been doing all night—which was basically what I blurted out as he slammed the door behind him and leaned against it.
“This is what happens when a bunch of fucking Russians are trapped together for over a month.” His accent was so thick, I could have spread it on toast with a knife. The words were also slurred, taking me a moment to figure out what he’d said. “They wanted to see the Jewel Box, then they wouldn’t leave!”
Prostitution was legal throughout the tri-system, but like anything else, no one was going to make any gold notes if they didn’t have the most beautiful girls, the best floor show, or whatever gimmick ensured success. The Jewel Box was rumored to have that and more—one square block devoted to all pleasures of the flesh. Most visitors to Mars, and particularly Elysium City, wanted to visit the Jewel Box at least once. Even I’d wanted to see it, though I’d yet to have the opportunity.
“Is that why you smell like the inside of a whore’s closet? For the record, Coral Sunset isn’t your color,” I said, gesturing to the lipstick.
He swiped at it with his hand, grimacing. Then he staggered from the door and fell on me. I ended up sprawled in my chair, his face in my lap. I heard him sigh, his breath gusting over my bare legs. “Hmmm…I could stay here all night. Fuck, I love how you smell.”
“Get off me. You’re heavy and you stink to high heaven.” Instead, I felt a determined hand questing its way into my shorts and a mouth pressing hot, wet kisses into my thighs. I started to squirm, getting aroused despite myself. I needed to talk to him, damn it! Now wasn’t the time for this. “Quit it, Alexei. I mean it. I don’t want you groping me after you’ve been trolling brothels all night! Gods, how many women were hanging off you anyway?”
“Doesn’t mean I wanted to be there,” he protested, raising his head enough to look at my breasts. “If I want to see great tits, I’ve got yours. They’re perfect and they’re mine. I love how they bounce in my hands and fill up my mouth.”
I slapped his hands away when he moved to illustrate his point. “Ass. Why the hell are you so drunk?”
“Because I was bored waiting for those duraki. After a while, I just left them. Only hope I don’t need to bribe any MPLE officials to get them out of jail.”
I had no idea why, but this whole conversation struck me as hilarious. Maybe because it served as a giddy outlet after what I’d read in the cards. “So you didn’t have fun tonight with your friends?”
“Nyet, but I am now. Only want you. Want you naked. Under me. Or riding me. Or…”
He was off, describing all the things he planned to do to me in glorious, filthy detail. Unfortunately, I didn’t catch most of it because his accent got thicker as he spoke. Also, most of the words were punctuated with kisses and licks, followed by hands I couldn’t fend off. Soon he’d removed my shorts and panties while he held my legs up in the air and spread open wide. His tongue plunged into me and I was gasping for breath and clutching the arms of my chair to keep from tumbling out of it.
Several orgasms later, he looked a lot more sober while I was a limp, oozing puddle, nearly dripping out of my chair. He sat back and regarded me, looking smug.
“Looks like we both need cleaning up,” he drawled. Then he finally took his attention off me and looked at the cards I’d spread everywhere. “I thought your cards were lost in the explosion.”
That had me scrambling to get dressed. “Brody gave them to me this morning. He said he found them at the site.”
“Interesting how he’s making himself so indispensable.”
I didn’t want to deal with the dark undercurrents in his tone, so I just kept looking for my panties. He sighed and produced them from somewhere. Then he had me stand while he slid them up my legs, his hands moving over me with appreciative slowness.
“I’m usually tearing these off, not putting them on. I don’t like it,” he complained.
When he’d finished, he rested his forehead against my stomach and his hands cupped my ass in a possessive grip. He sighed again and I got the feeling he was exhausted, that whatever he worked on for the Consortium was wearing him out. Tonight’s drunken episode was him finding his own outlet.
Though he smelled awful, especially there in my small office with the door closed, I ran my fingers through his hair and let him hold me.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
“That’s the second time you’ve asked me that today.” He lifted the cami I wore and pressed a kiss to my bare stomach. “Just tell me you love me.”
“I love you. You already know that.”
Another kiss before his tongue dipped into my belly button and became a lick that ended in another kiss. “Did you find the answers you wanted?”
And that was it. Back to the scary stuff I had to face if we were going to make it through this in one piece. “A few things are still confusing, but yes, I did. It doesn’t mean it’s set in stone. Things can change. Variables can shift. There are some random factors I can’t quite figure out, but I will. Now that I know what’s coming, it’s possible to work around it. I’m concerned, but I’m not giving up. I’m never giving up.”
A beat of silence, then, “Konstantin’s dying, isn’t he? He doesn’t have much time left and he wants me to restart the homunculus project. He wants a new body.”
Of course he already knew. But did he know everything?
“Yes,” I whispered, then tilted his head back so I could kiss him. I had to and couldn’t help myself. He was mine, even if he’d spent the night getting drunk in a brothel. I wasn’t letting him go.
When his tongue dipped into my mouth and his hands threatened to stray back into my panties, I pulled away. I reached over to the table and grabbed a card, letting him see it.
“Is this literal, or metaphorical?” he asked.
“This time, it’s literal,” I said, then turned enough so he could see the other spreads on the table. All the results were the same. All ended in the Death card.
He looked back up at me, his eyes meeting mine. “What does it mean?”
I dropped the card and ran my fingers through his hair again, needing to reassure myself that he was there with me and, for the time being, he wasn’t going anywhere. His hands tightened on me as if needing the same reassurance.
“What does it mean?” he repeated, whispering now.
“It means, if you give him a new body, he’ll want it all back. The power. The wealth. Everything the Consortium represents. If that happens, you’ll be in his way. Even if you step down, it won’t be enough. Just the fact that you exist is a problem because he’ll always see you as a threat. The Death card isn’t predicting death for him. It’s for you.”