Page 320 of Lodestar

“Clients,” he rasped. “Friends. Politicians. Everyone I came into contact with.”

“You don’t have an estate in Florida,” I disregarded.

“S’a secret,” he cried as I added to the pressure of my hold on him, making it almost impossible for him to speak. But then, there was nothing he could say that would halt this. Nothing he could promise that would stop me.

“A secret. So secret it doesn’t exist?” I laughed. “If you’re going to lie to me, Sheridan, at least make it entertaining.”

“No! I’m not lying! Please! No?—”

But his pleas were too late in coming.

It was time for vengeance.

Time formeto take back what had been stolen from me in the only way people like Reinier and I understood—blood.

15

CONOR

The body bagson the ground started shuffling.

It’d have been amusing if it weren’t creepy as fuck.

“That antidote worked fast,” Troy muttered.

“Updated version,” D answered. “Good shit, right?”

Troy grunted. “I wish I’d had that in Mombasa.”

“That little issue with the US ambassador over there was you?” D inquired.

She sniffed.

D and I took that as an answer.

“I think I need to address the fact that you’re all my heroes,” I drawled.

“Heroines, dude. Get it right,” D corrected, kicking Foundry when, screaming, his hands scrabbled against the fastener from the inside out. “Shut the fuck up, you piece of diarrhea splatter.”

“Love the imagery,” Troy slotted in.

“I thought it was fitting,” D agreed with another kick when Foundry’s hysteria was shoved up another notch. “If you don’t shut up, we’ll just never let you out of the fucking bag, prick.”

His heaving breaths slowed down, but there was a whine behind them as if, in the next couple minutes, he’d be sobbing for his momma.

Smythe, by comparison to Foundry, was still, but he was talking to himself. Low mumbles that, I assumed, were supposed to calm him down.

I jerked in surprise when, from the shipping container, a scream echoed around the clearing.

Troy chuckled. “She’s still got it.”

D shot her a smug look. “I told you.” To me, she muttered, “You didn’t break her.”

I blinked. “She’s cracking his nuts?”

D cackled. “That’s a euphemism.”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” I mumbled, barely refraining from cupping myself because I knew if I did, these two would find that hilarious.

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