Page 53 of The Devil

“I told you I can get it back. I have time. What’s going on? Who was on that call?”

“Yeah, sadly, I don’t think you’ll be getting it back. That’s what that call was about.”

“What do you mean? The man at the shop said he’d hold it for me. I have another two weeks.”

“And you trust a pawn shop operator.”

“It’s not a pawn shop. He’s an antique dealer. I thought I told you that.”

The doors slide open on the seventh floor.

“My naïve little wife,” I say, walking her to our suite. “The watch is gone. In fact, it’s found its way back to the one place it should never have found.”

“What?”

Malcom sees us coming and opens the door. He looks like he was expecting us.

“Get your coat,” I tell Amal and she heads inside as I fill in Malcom in while grabbing my shoulder holster and gun, which I’d put into the safe after Amal’s little stunt. I step back out into the hallway. She watches over her shoulder, trying to hear. “Keep the men here. I’m sure they have eyes on us already.” Stupid to have thought otherwise where IVI is concerned. I replay every face I’ve seen since I’ve been in Edinburgh and wonder which of them was an eye for the secret society.

“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Malcom asks.

I shake my head. “Scope out the area. Check the room for bugs.”

“Bugs?” Amal asks as she emerges from the bedroom.

“I’ll take care of it, boss.”

I nod, grateful for Malcom. He’s been with me long enough to know how to handle things. I pull on my coat.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Amal asks.

“We’re taking a field trip to your little antique shop. You remember where it is?”

“Of course. But why? If the watch is gone…”

“Humor me.” We walk out of the suite and down the hall to the elevator.

“I just thought it was the one you wouldn’t care about,” she says as we head to the lobby. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“I’m learning trouble is part of the package with you. I’ll handle it. Don’t worry. But if there’s anything else I should know, now’s the time.”

She studies me like something clicked into place. “Does it have to do with the insignia on the back? It’s on your arm, isn’t it? Broken though.” When I don’t answer, she continues. “What does it mean?”

“Nothing to you. It will never mean anything to you,” I tell her and take her hand, vowing to protect her from The Society and all its bullshit, as I walk her out into the infernal rain of Edinburgh.

17

AMAL

Jet places his gun in the glove box and programs the location of the shop into the GPS on his phone rather than using the car’s navigation system. It makes me think about his line of work. Makes me remember how Malek was. Always suspicious of everyone. Almost paranoid about being watched or listened to.

“I don’t know that he’ll be open,” I say. It’s after nine o’clock.

“Is there a particular reason you chose this shop rather than pawning it in the states or anywhere else?”

“I had enough saved up from Cassian’s allowance money for a ticket,” I say, hating how it sounds. “He wouldn’t let me work,” I add to justify.

“For your own safety and look where that got you. Continue.”