Page 133 of Stealing Blinds

“The room has been serviced,” Tessa declares into the comm. “Headed to the coal chute.”

That’s my cue.

Stealing greatness is always more satisfying.

“Maybe we could discuss this.” I slide off the pub chair as elegantly as I can without the help of heels to offer me some height. “Some other time though.” I pluck the pen out of his jacket pocket, scribble my number on a napkin, and slide it to him.

“I’ll call,” he promises as Cash’s heated gaze swats my ass.

Despite the room closing in on me, I smile. “I know you will, Peter.”

SYLVIE

“Did you just give Peter Fairfax your goddamn phone number?” Cash sneers as soon as I meet him at the edge of the bar.

“I had my reasons, which I will explain. Soon.” I smooth my hands over his lapels, feeling Peter’s and E’s gazes burning into me. “But we both have places we need to be, and I have a call I need to make.” I stall for one more second, scratching my ear. “Nothing but chaos.”

He reads that loud and clear. The comms might have people listening, so don’t detail anything important.

His brows furrow, and his grip on my hip tightens. He’s concerned. Maybe he should be. I think we’ve got things all wrong, but riling him up will only derail our mission.

Instead, I rise on my toes and kiss his cheek. “I love you. I will never quit you.”

He presses me closer, and it’s warmth and roguery, stubble searing skin, and a pledge of protection. “Love you, baby. You’re my magic.”

His lips collide with mine in a fusion that is probably a tad more zealous than many of the other guests would display, but it fits with who we are. I block out everything else for fifteen glorious seconds and simply soak him in, concluding the union with a peck at the corner of his mouth.

“And you’re my magnum opus. I’m good.” It’s a false promise. My gut wrenches with the warning I want to scream. But our time is ticking, and I don’t want Cash to do something stupid.

I squeeze him once more and venture to the outside gardens, putting my sunglasses on, turning my mic off, and pulling my burner out of my purse when I reach a secluded stretch.

“Yeah?” E barks.

The midday sun caresses my skin and bathes the wisteria-draped stone walls and scattered wildflowers in a sanguine glow. It would be hopeful, if my circumstances didn’t render it haunting.

“It’s me.”

“New burner?” There is a hint of irritation in that query.

“With all the ups and downs, I thought it was best that I use something that hadn’t been on me for the previous jobs.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Smart. Are you in place?”

“On my way.” I pass through an arched wooden door on the cobblestone walkway, shut it, and follow the path. “I should be able to make the drop tonight. Can you be there by nine?”

“The elevator is moving fine,” Maddox reports into my earpiece, announcing that they’re on the lower level.

“That’s perfect. I’m leaving soon,” E answers into the other ear. “How are you getting there? You’re not having them escort you, right?”

I’m not sure why he’s so apprehensive about the Noires, so I breeze past it. “I’m taking the train. You picked a location right outside the station, so it makes it easy.”

“Good.” He hums, debating something. “No one will expect that, so you won’t be followed.”

I will my pounding heart to calm—the adrenaline of my impending raid is compounded by a whisper of something bigger than all of this. “Should I be worried about someone following me?”

“I don’t think so, but …” He pauses, likely deciding whether he benefits from sharing whatever he’s about to unleash. “The guards for the lower level are instructed to shoot to kill for a breach in that room.”

That effectively halts my steps. I stop cold, glaring at the stone walls encasing me, the quaint setting of French ambience and bright escapes, schemes and shackles. “That’s information that would have been useful earlier.”