Page 4 of Consort of the Crime Queen

I sound very sure of myself, but uncertainty swirls inside me. All I can think about is the stinging reprimand from Mrs. Graves, my cheeks still hot with shame, and of my own colossal failure.

Lyssa studies me a moment, then nods, her typical sly grin returning. "Just the two of us, huh? Like the old days. Well, then, Hades. Let's go hunting."

CHAPTER 3

Hadria

I pace the length of the war room as Lyssa checks in with yet another contact, my thoughts as repetitive as my feet. No leads, no whispers, not even a shred of intel about where Nero might be keeping Aurora, and now more than twenty-four hours have passed.

In fact, the intel we have received suggests he doesn't have her at all. He's not acting like the cat who got the cream; he's gone about his usual day as though nothing has changed.

And Nero is not a man to whom subtlety comes easily. If he did have Aurora, the whole damn city would have heard of it by now. I'm sure of that. So it gnaws at me, this uncertainty.

Time is slipping through my fingers, and with each passing second, Aurora seems further from my grasp. I clench my fists till the knuckles turn white.

If not Nero, then who? Who would dare to snatch Aurora away from me? Every man and woman in this city knows exactly what my retribution would mean. I've spent years building up my fearsome reputation. I can't imagine who?—

Wait.

There's one person who might have had the nerve to do this…if he's still in Chicago.

Lyssa wanted to come, but I persuaded her to stay at Elysium, just in case any word came in from our contacts. "Or any Syndicate jobs?" she'd asked.

"Fuck the jobs," I snapped back. "Right now, you and I have only one priority, and that's?—"

"Finding Suzy," she agreed. "But you wanted to keep this mission between the two of us, and I gotta tell you, Hadria, turning away any job offers that come in will only cause more unrest in the Syndicate. We take the jobs and we give the work to the people who want it—while you and I focus on this. Agreed?"

I wanted to snarl, but I caught myself back. What Lyssa said was sensible. Smart. Letting the others know that there was a problem wasn't the right play…yet. So I'd just agreed with her and then left, alone, to track down my next target for interrogation.

Night cloaks the city now as I pull up at the diner I visited not that long ago with Aurora herself, and see that my gamble has paid off. Johnny "the Gentleman" de Luca is sitting there at the counter again, eating another slice of fucking pie, and shooting the shit with the waitress behind the counter without a care in the world.

He'll start caring fast if he had anything to do with Aurora's disappearance.

I stalk in and sit right next to him, this relic of a bygone era when men wore suits like armor and courtesy was their sword. But courtesies be damned tonight. Conversations taper off around us as people suddenly drop into whispers. This is one of those places where the people can sense the kind of work we do—and don't want to get involved.

Johnny de Luca sits still, without turning to me. He takes a sip of his coffee, and waits for me to begin.

"Hi." My voice cuts loud through the soft clink of glass and hushed tones.

He turns slowly at last, his expression polite, almost friendly, but a little wary. "Hello again." A nod, his demeanor unflappable even now.

"We need to talk." I don't ask; I command.

He gestures to a private booth tucked away in shadows. Privacy for what's about to unfold.

We sit across from each other, and he waits with that same damn calm that irks me to no end, because it's exactly the same mask I put on to unnerve people. "I'm looking for someone," I begin.

"I gathered as much," he replies smoothly. "But if you need wet works done, I've told you before, I'm no longer?—"

"It's not a job. I'm looking for a—a woman."

His eyebrows go up. "I'm not in that kind of business either, Ms. Imperioli."

"This woman is..." How to explain? "A member of my Syndicate. She's gone missing."

He nods slowly. "Well, if you're wondering if I've taken your lost lamb, let me remind you again: I'm retired."

"That's not entirely true, though, is it?" I challenge. "Last time we met, you suggested Juno Bianchi might be interested in?—"

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