Page 65 of Heart of Thieves

“Shhhh,” Ostena soothes, rocking him back and forth, tears tracking down her cheeks.

How can the Laurel I once cared for—the one who was so kind and so good—not see that she is becoming the very thing she wishes to destroy?

“Change St. James’s mind,” I say softly.

Ostena lifts her eyes to mine. “No one changes his mind.”

“Be the first.”

“Or what? You’ll torture us again?” Her voice is hoarse and her eyes are full of hate I wholly deserve.

“Or your secrets may not stay secret.”

Her jaw clenches, and her hands clasp tighter on Forsyth’s sweat-soaked shirt. She swallows, and in that instant, I know I’ve got her. That secret I stole last time I visited is exactly the weapon I promised Laurel it would be. Only this time, I’m wielding it to protect Ostena and Forsyth from what Laurel might do if given the chance.

“You’re despicable.”

“All in a day’s work, darling,” I say, tipping my fedora. “Do we have a deal?”

“I suppose I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“There’s always a choice.”

She glares. “You know just as well as I do that that is not true.”

Her words are barbs I could have spoken myself, and yet they still sting when they strike. “Good night,” I say, blowing her a kiss before striding out the door.

I walk as though in a daze. Along the hall, down the steps, into the golden sunlight. Across the street, past the boardwalk, through the sand.

To the sea.

Laurel is watching. She likely hates this. The sea is bad, it is dangerous, it is lethal.

I wade straight into it and drop to my knees, plunging my hands into the foam. But no matter how hard I scrub at my shoes, I cannot seem to get the stench of Forsyth’s vomit out of my nose.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

LOLA

All too soon, it’s the morning of Nocturne’s game.

Isla and I stride side by side down the same street Arden and I visited yesterday to see my father. This time, we’re aiming for the building on the other corner—a tall, sleek thing with far too many windows glaring down like glassy eyes—where Moratin Salazar, the very gang lord who ordered my kidnapping four years ago to draw my father out of hiding, does many of his dealings. I typically avoid this whole area, but my father promised he’d have the voratium I needed ready today, and the fact that Isla and I are supposed to be getting information about Salazar is the perfect cover story. I just need to split off from her without rousing suspicion.

“All right. Let’s enter through the fire escape,” I say, pointing. “Salazar’s office is on level eighteen, I believe.”

Isla launches up the ladder, and I trail after her, fingers listing over the pocket where I’ve stored a pile of Jade’s voratium poppers.

We make quick work, slinking silently as cats to the eighteenth floor. The door is locked, of course, but Isla pulls out a little device she and Jade constructed, which she fits to the window. The contraption slices the window clean as butter.

“Diamond saw,” she says with a wink when she catches sight of my dumbfounded expression.

“Seems awfully expensive when we could just go noncorporeal . . . ,” I say.

“Enzo’s rules are Enzo’s rules.” She shrugs. “Take it up with him.”

I sigh as her contraption lifts the glass free. Isla pushes it in, and it hits the carpet with a thunk as she clambers like a spider through the opening.

I make to follow her, digging my hand into my pocket and flinging the voratium poppers behind me. They hit the ground below an instant later, detonating with a sound like multiple gunshots. I whirl to peer over the lip of the fire escape.