Page 64 of Vow Of Fire

My mind was racing. If Nico was as good as Dante seemed to think he was, maybe there was another way we could get to the bottom of this.

“Wait,” I said.

Both men looked up.

I felt Dante’s eyes first, the blast of heat at the side of my face, like a lamp being switched on. Nico’s gaze was cooler. More surgical.

I cleared my throat and turned to Nico. “Could you also look for anyone who’s been actively bidding on Reyes pieces? Not just buying but bidding and losing.”

Nico seemed surprised that I’d asked him directly.

Dante frowned. “Why?”

I turned to him, only to find his eyes locked on mine. I tried to keep my voice steady. “Because if rival gangs are buying art at inflated prices to launder, they’re not going to sit on it forever. The whole point is to clean the money, right?”

Dante nodded.

“Eventually they have to sell it on, right? So they’re going to need a fence. Isn’t that what you call it?”

Nico just watched me, an almost amused expression on his face.

“They won’t be able to sell it at auction,” I continued, when nobody spoke. “Auction records are public, they’d show up on every database in the industry. Which means they need a private buyer.”

Nico had gone still again.

Dante studied me. “You’re thinking the under-bidders are the buy-side fences?”

I nodded, glad he got it. “They could be affiliated to the networks. Or they’re just buyers looking for a deal, but we won’t know for sure until we check them out.” I turned back to Nico. “You clearly have the resources to do that.”

Nico didn’t speak for a beat. He was looking at me as if I’d just performed a circus trick or something.

“Yeah,” he said finally, and this time he didn’t look at Dante. “I can look into it. The auction houses will have records, and of course there are private sale registers. I’ll see what I can dig up.”

I felt a small surge of pride. He was taking me seriously now. Hopefully that meant he was starting to believe me too. I looked down at my hands so neither of them would see the relief on my face.

Nico stood, giving me a tight nod. There was no warmth in it, but no actual hostility either. I was taking that as a win.

“Thank you,” I said.

He didn’t answer. Just slung the backpack over his shoulder.

“I’ll walk you out,” Dante said.

18

BLOOD

Dante

Ifollowed Nico off the porch and down the gravel to where his Ducati was parked at the edge of the clearing. A Panigale V4 in matte black with a streak of red on the tank, two hundred and ten horsepower of Italian engineering on two wheels. The kind of bike you rode when you wanted to leave the world behind. That was Nico all over.

He waited until we were ten feet clear of the porch before he turned on me.

“What the fuck are you doing, Dante?”

I’d been waiting for it. I’d known it was coming the second he’d seen us together. My brother didn’t miss things. That was his whole fucking reason for being.

“Don’t start,” I warned him.