Page 42 of The Cousins and the Brunette

My limbs shook as we approached the lab where the Nant-bots were supposedly kept. My skin tingled with adrenaline and anticipation.

A faint hum, barely perceptible, reached my ears. It wasn’t the sound of machinery or guards—it was too organic, too alive.

“Wait,” I whispered, holding up a hand. “Something’s not right.”

I pressed my back against the wall, motioning for Sebastian to do the same.

Sebastian leaned in close, his breath warm against my cheek. “What is it?”

I shook my head, struggling to pinpoint the source. “I’m not sure, but—”

Suddenly, the hum intensified, transforming into a low, menacing growl. My stomach dropped. Realization hit me like a punch to the face.

“Shit,” I hissed. “Shoemaker’s got guard dogs.”

Of course he did. Because breaking into a high-security facility wasn’t challenging enough without adding rabid canines to the mix.

Sebastian’s face paled. “That wasn’t in the blueprints.”

“No kidding,” I muttered. “Any bright ideas, Porter?”

He hesitated, then reached into his jacket pocket. “I might have something. It’s experimental, but—”

A bark echoed through the corridor, followed by the sound of heavy paws against polished floors. Time was up.

I grabbed Sebastian’s arm. “Whatever it is, use it. Now.”

He pulled out a small, cylindrical device and twisted the top. A high-pitched frequency filled the air, inaudible to us but clearly affecting the approaching dogs. Their barks turned to whimpers, then silence. The dogs turned and took off in the opposite direction.

“Sonic deterrent,” Sebastian explained quietly. “Joel’s been working on it for crowd control.”

I raised an eyebrow, impressed despite myself. “Remind me to thank him later. For now, let’s move.”

In my experience, fortune had a nasty habit of changing sides when you least expected it.

We edged closer to Shoemaker’s lab, the very heart of his technological empire. I could feel each heartbeat throb in my temples, a rhythmic reminder of the stakes we were playing for. My fingertips grazed the cold wall as we turned another corner, the shadows cloaking our presence like an accomplice.

The pressure in the air was viscous enough to slice with my lock picks. Every step forward felt like tiptoeing through a minefield of consequences, but who didn’t love a good adrenaline rush with a side of potential imprisonment?

“Camera up ahead,” Sebastian whispered, his breath barely audible. His voice always had this steadiness, a calm that made me want to believe everything would turn out fine. He nodded at a small alcove to our right. “In there—quick.”

I darted into the alcove, pressing my back against the cool surface, feeling the roughness of the decorative paneling under my palms. Sebastian slid in beside me, his body heat warming me against the chill of the wall. We were inches apart, close enough that I could see the flecks of amber in his brown eyes.

Personal space? Never heard of it. I had to admit, being this close to Sebastian wasn’t the worst part of our little heist. But now was not the time to get distracted by pretty boys with sexy voices.

“Wait for it.” He was watching the camera through a sliver of space.

The red light atop the camera blinked methodically before panning away from us. Sebastian counted under his breath, timing its rotations.

“Now!” he urged.

We slipped out, moving in quickly with the oblivious lens, and one misstep meant disaster. The excitement of it surged through me—a cocktail of adrenaline and terror that no synthetic drug could ever replicate.

“Keep moving,” Sebastian said, his voice low.

Finally, the titanium doors of the lab stood before us, imposing yet promising. This was it—the moment of truth.

I felt like a cat burglar in a B-grade movie, minus the skin-tight catsuit and night-vision goggles. Though, come to think of it, those might have come in handy right about now.

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