Page 140 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

And not just any teeth.

No, these teeth were pink.

Once, they’d been white, but Spider had painted them as a joke because everyone knew Barbie’s colour was pink, didn’t they? At least nobody would mistake which DPV—diver propulsion vehicle—belonged to the Choir’s blonde bombshell.

Barbie shot past me, pulled by the underwater scooter that let her travel faster than a mere human could. Tulsa was hot on her heels, and I grabbed hold of Dice’s waist as she stopped beside me. A second later, I was sucking air hard from her spare regulator. I tried to get my breathing under control. My pulse was racing far faster than usual, and I knew why.

Cole.

I loved him.

No matter how much that fact would upend my life, I loved him, and no amount of denial would change that.

Tulsa grabbed Cole, and Barbie ripped Witt away from him.Touch him and die, motherfucker.Witt tried to kick for the surface, but Barbie pulled him deeper and held him down. Damn, I loved that woman, in a purely platonic way of course. The only thing better would have been drowning that asshole myself, but watching his death was a joy.

One that I had to cut short.

Tulsa was heading for theCrosswindwith Cole, and Dice turned to follow, pulling me with her. Cole had a regulator stuffed into his mouth, and there were bubbles trailing behind, so I had to take that as a good sign. He was alive. He was alive, and everything else was just white noise. We surfaced at the stern, and I grabbed the ladder with one hand and Cole with the other as Tulsa passed him over.

“You couldn’t follow a simple instruction?”

Cole coughed up water. “I was trying to help.”

“It’s one thing not to trust me personally—I mean, I’m somewhat economical with the truth there—but it hurts that you don’t trust me professionally.”

“I was terrified. Witt was on the boat, and you were trapped.”

“Witt has the grace of a walrus—I heard him board, and I was waiting to ambush him at the bottom of the stairs.” The anger ebbed away as Cole kissed my forehead. “But I guess it’s sweet that you’re so protective.”

Dice made a gagging noise.

“What took you so long?” I asked her. They must have HALO jumped out of our specially modified jet. She was still wearing a lightweight parachute harness.

“Uh, you kept moving around? And hello, cloud cover—what kind of psycho takes a boat out in a storm?”

“I tried to tell her,” Cole said.

Tulsa patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, that’ll never work.”

“There are two more idiots down there,” I told the girls as Barbie popped up serenely, sans Witt.

“You want them dead or alive?” Dice asked.

I glanced at Cole. “Alive.”

I knew I sounded disappointed. I really didn’t care. Tulsa, Dice, and Barbie submerged, and Cole clung to me tighter.

“Who are those people?”

“Three members of my team. I told you they were coming.”

“Holy shit.”

I shifted gold bars off the seats so we could assemble in the saloon, and there were a lot of gold bars. At least the boys hadn’t killed Dr. Blaylock. I’d found him in his cabin, the door jammed shut from the outside with a chair. He was hungry and shaken and shocked at his stepson’s actions but otherwise in good health.

Clint glared at him from the other side of the room, furious. Tulsa looked as if she’d been practising shibari. Jon was sitting next to him, and he seemed more defeated than anything else. He’d also been the most talkative of the pair. Unsurprisingly, Clint had tried to blame the whole affair on the conveniently dead Witt, but Jon swore Witt and Clint had planned the expedition together, and he was just along for the ride. He claimed he thought they were going to photograph theSpanish Dancer, not loot her. Barbie hadn’t bothered to retrieve Witt’s body. None of us thought it was worth the trouble. He’d go down in history as a victim of atragic diving accident and someone—probably Dr. Blaylock—would write a sympathetic letter to his parents. Only Clint might dispute the story, but he was such a bitter little shit that I doubted anyone who mattered would believe him.

“I didn’t know there was a wreck,” Dr. Blaylock kept saying as I flipped my lucky dollar across my knuckles. “How could anybody value an old ship more than the health of our oceans?”

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