Page 148 of Secret Weapon

“This is my home, not yours.”

Interesting little power struggle there.Who was actually in charge?We’d have to work that out later, and I definitely didn’t want anyone poking around upstairs.

“I just want to get out of here.Where’s my purse?”

Black held it up.“Right here, sweetheart.”

“You should vet your guests better, Mr.Angelou.”I mopped more gloop out of my hair.“This evening has been—” I froze.“Where’s my earring?It’s gone.My earring’s gone!”

“Are those the ones your mom gave you?”Black asked.

“Yes!”I let fake panic show as I ran back to the buffet table.“I have to find it.”

“I can replace the earring,” Armand offered.

“It’s irreplaceable, you imbecile.They used to belong to my grandma.She wore them on her wedding day.”

What the hell was happening upstairs?We needed a sitrep.The earring was safe in Black’s pocket, but how long did we have to spend fishing through the remains of dinner while we pretended to look for it?

Well, the update came, but it wasn’t what I hoped for.

“We might have an issue,” Pale informed us.

What sort of an issue?Did the guard fight back?Was Santoro causing problems?Had someone blocked the exit route?Of course, I couldn’t ask, but thankfully Spider voiced the question.

“What issue?”

“The drone team is reporting police activity nearby.Four cars.They’re forming up for some type of operation.”

“Where?”

“From the positioning, we think it might be at your location.”

What the fuck?Who called the cops?Why?Tell me this wasn’t a bullshit drugs bust.I’d seen traces of coke on the bathroom counter, but half the fucking world did coke at parties.

“Why?”

“Vance is trying to find out.How long until you’re done?”

“A couple of minutes.Ravi’s working on Santoro’s padlock while I pack the weapon into its case.This thing isheavy.Do we have a route out?”

“Clear on the terrace,” Alaric told us.

“Engine’s idling,” Alex added.

Five minutes.For five fucking minutes, the operation would be balanced on a knife-edge, and all I could do was dig through trifle with a teaspoon.Why did Angelou even have a trifle?It was a British dessert, not American, so I wasn’t surprised when I dug in and found blueberries, chocolate chips, and a bunch of other stuff that wasn’t supposed to be there.Nice try, guys.Fail.

“Let me help with that,” Armand said, rolling up his sleeves.Dan glowered from a couch in the corner, arms folded as one of Ilya’s men stood over her.Svetlana and Bryant grabbed spoons too, presumably trying to salvage something from an evening they’d clearly put a lot of effort into planning.

The good news?We only had to do the trifle thing for two minutes.

The bad news?A guard from the front of the house whispered to Ilya, and he switched from grouchy boredom to high alert in the blink of an eye.I’d seen that change before—in Black, in Ana, hell, in myself—and I knew exactly what it meant.Shit was about to hit the fan, and we were talking elephant doo-doo.

“They’re spooked,” I murmured, not that it mattered if anyone heard me now.The other guests didn’t have a clue what was going on, and Ilya was running towards the stairs with two men in tow.Another guy headed for the dock.

“Spider, Ravi, incoming.You too, Alex.”

A fourth guard ran for the stairs, and Dan stuck out a foot.Oh, ouch.Before he could get up, she belted him with her purse, and what on earth did she have in there?A dumb-bell?Because he didn’t get up again.

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