Page 36 of The Queen
I slide through students towards the library’s back door, which is propped open with a brick, and I slip inside without anyone noticing.
“Talk to me, Katie,” I say as soon as I see her between the stacks, her glasses slightly askew.
“Raphael,” she breathes out, her voice a quiet whisper meant only for me. Her fingers twist together nervously. “There’s been this guy. He keeps asking about ancient history texts, but he doesn’t read them. He just sits and watches.”
“Description?”
“Six feet, maybe more. Dark hair, blue eyes.”
“Thanks.” I flash her a quick smile, one that doesn’t reach my eyes because smiles are cheap, and trust is expensive. I can’t afford either right now. Sounds like Felix, but who the fuck knows? That’s still a conversation that needs to be had with Eliza, but she is adamant this half-brother of hers can be trusted.
Either that, or she is playing the long game and hasn’t filled us in yet.
Leaving the library, I can’t shake the feeling that eyes are on me. The sensation crawls up my spine, insistent and unnerving. I scan the crowd, trying to spot anyone who lingers too long or looks too closely. But they’re all just faces in a sea of students – potential threats and innocent bystanders mashed together.
I take the long way back, making random turns, doubling back on myself. If someone’s tailing me, I’ll flush them out. I feel it, though, the gaze locked on my back, tracking every step.
“Do you feel it?” I ask Drago, the silent giant at my side.
“Always.” He straightens up, a slight sneer twisting his lips as he meets my gaze head-on. “In the interests of being upfront, there is something you should know.” Drago hesitates, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he schools them back into that practised nonchalance. “Messages telling me to flip sides, offering me cash, power, all the usual bullshit promises.”
“From who?” I demand, my voice low and hard.
“Anonymous. But persistent.” He shrugs, a gesture meant to seem careless, but there’s tension in his shoulders, a coiled readiness. “They don’t get that I’m not for sale. You think I’d goagainst the Hughes family and the rest of you? That’s suicide, and I’m not in the habit of digging my own grave.”
“Keep it that way,” I warn, my gut telling me to trust him for now. If Drago were the enemy, he’d have taken a shot at Eliza already. Andthe rest of you? Fuck. When did we become the sidekicks?
He grunts his response and goes back to being silent and deadly.
“Text them back. Say you’re willing to talk terms.”
“Huh?”
“Do it.”
He just handed me an opportunity, and we’re running with it. We’ve got to set this up fast. Drago is going to be bait. It’s the only way to flush out the snakes threatening Eliza.
“Rusty Anchor, fifteen minutes.”
“That was fast.”
“I’m that much in demand.”
“So why aren’t you flipping?”
He meets my eyes. “Told you already.”
“Hmm.”
I can see that response irritates him as much as it does when my dad does it to me. I see now why he does it. It keeps you on the ropes and is supposed to start that rambling thing where you give yourself away. Drago is no fool, though. He plays the game.
As we make our way to the old dive bar, I’m fully aware this could go sideways real quick, but it’s a risk we’ve got to take.
Drago’s eyes narrow, assessing me as we hang out in the back alley, waiting for the show. “If this goes south?—”
“It won’t.” I cut him off. There’s no room for doubt. Not when every move is life or death.
I lean against the cold brick; my eyes stay fixed on Drago, standing a few feet away under the flickering light of a streetlamp that constantly stays on in this dingy setting. He’ssolid, a mountain of muscle that doesn’t even flinch at the danger closing in around us.
