Page 45 of Death Drop

In the privacy of my room, I pulled up the number of the skating federation president. No time like the present to start setting everything else around us into harmony too.

To my relief, the secretary passed my call straight through. The president made a disapproving sound with his greeting. “It’s good that you’ve finally returned my call.”

“I appreciate you expressing your concerns,” I said with all the cheerfulness I could summon. “I think there’s a lot to say about Luna Garcia. Yes, she’s come from a difficult past, but that means she brings a fresh perspective to the sport that we rarely see. Even in the short time I’ve been working with her, I can already tell she’s going to transform figure skating in the best possible way…”

NINETEEN

Luciana

I shiftedmy weight in the arena’s bright yellow hallway, feeling like an elementary-school kid waiting to talk to the principal. Niko had gone into the manager’s office alone to ask about booking rink time.

Beside me, Jasper glanced around the place. “I don’t know if this is really our… vibe.”

I grimaced. “We can’t afford to worry about vibes. We can’t go back to the Sports Garden arena now that my mom knows we’ve been training there, and there aren’t enough slots at the big one to squeeze all our training in there. Even if we wanted everyone to catch on to the changes we’ve made to our routine.”

“They’re going to find out eventually,” Quentin pointed out.

I shook my head. “It’s bad enough us failing on our own without having a gazillion potential witnesses.”

I still wasn’t sure whether we should even keep trying the death spiral to lift transition. Our time before the competition was dwindling, and there’d been so many distractions. But I wasn’t quite ready to let go of the hope that we could pull it off.

Neither was Jasper, apparently. He nudged my arm. “We’ll find a place. If anyone can charm our way into some good ice time, it’s Niko.”

Quentin chuckled. “And if anyone can tackle one of the most difficult moves in skating, it’s Lou Cordova.”

Their affectionate encouragement lifted my spirits—which promptly sank again at Niko’s expression as he left the office.

Our coach offered us an apologetic shrug. “He’s booked solid for the next two weeks, which is the time we need it most.”

Rafael and our newest allies were just sauntering over from a survey of the arena. The Deadly Rose defectors must have caught Niko’s words, because Frankie propelled his tall but skinny frame forward with a scowl that pulled his cheek scar taut. “They don’t have time, or they don’t want to give it to Lou?”

A jolt of guilt jabbed my stomach, but Niko gave the gangster a mild look. “I didn’t see any reason to think he was making false excuses.”

Dámaso gave the hall a once-over. “The place doesn’t seem secure enough anyway. Too many ways in and out.”

“It’d be better than nothing.” Frankie started to swagger over to the manager’s office. “Maybe if I give him a piece of my mind—”

Rafael pushed in front of the younger guy with a glower. “We’re not here to intimidate anyone. We’re doing this by skating rules, not street rules.”

Frankie let out a scoffing sound, but he stood down, eyeing my bodyguard warily.

Niko waved to us. “Come on. There’s another place we can try in the next ward over.”

We piled into our two cars and drove over with Niko directing, but when we came into the next arena’s reception area, the guy monitoring the front desk gave Niko a series of deferential but obviously discouraging gestures while he talked.

Ursula frowned. “What’s going on?”

I hugged myself. “I don’t know. It doesn’t look good.”

Niko turned back to us. “He says the manager is busy and can’t see us this afternoon.”

“Fuck that!” Frankie strode up to the desk. “Listen up. My man here needs to talk to the people in charge, and—”

As the receptionist backed up with a panicked expression, Rafael grabbed Frankie by the shoulder. “Tell him we’re sorry about our ‘friend’ here,” he said to Niko, and yanked the skinny guy over to the opposite wall.

His voice lowered to a growl. “We’re trying to make Lou lookgoodhere, not like a terrorist. We don’t want people associating her with criminal low-lifes, so pull yourself together and stop acting like one, or you can sit this mission out.”

My face burned with embarrassment as I dipped it in apology to the receptionist. But after Rafael’s admonishment, Frankie did shut up, not even grumbling as he got into the defectors’ car. Although he didn’t exactly look happy.

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