Page 28 of Dark OZ

Dorothy screamed, cutting through the tension sharper than any knife.

“What in the fuck?” Crowe yelled from down in the kitchen, followed by a series of popping noises and the sound of an extinguisher firing.

Instinctually, my head swiveled towards the door, following the sound of his alarm. Light flared brightly in the darkness. Deep red and yellow flashes lit up the hall from below. The smell of smoke already reaching the upper floor.

“Right now, Vincent Crowe is pointlessly trying to extinguish the flames in your kitchen. The gas line to the stove is shut, but in thirty seconds, it will switch on and flood the lower level. Which do you think will happen first, ignition or the sound of Dorothea’s voice on this line?”

“Go.” I snapped towards the door, but Nick was already gone.

I started counting in my head. Something told me the voice on the phone didn’t make idle threats. Fifteen seconds later, the sound of Dorothy’s whining carried up the stairwell. “Let go of me. Ow, that isn’t necessary. Ow, motherfucker, that hurts.”

“If you would just walk like you’re told, then I wouldn’t have to manhandle your skinny, whipped ass in the first place.”

Nick came back into the room, Dorothy slung over his shoulder. Her tiny fists beat against his back until he unceremoniously dropped her into a pile on the ground. She popped up, marching straight for me, until Nick grabbed ahold of her once more.

“What the fuck, Danny? You didn’t need to sic your attack dog on me. It’s just a power outage.” She stomped her feet like a rabid bull, getting ready to charge the moment he released her. Which he wasn’t likely to do. Not while there was an unknown threat.

“You hear the brat. You got what you wanted. Now turn the power back on,” I said to the phone.

Crowe followed them in. Bracing a gun in his hand, the tactical mounted light illuminating his path. At least he had the brains to realize this was more than just a power outage.

Deep, modulated laughter filled the room. Not from my phone, but from the intercom.“Now that everyone is here.”

Dorothy’s movements stilled, her eyes wide with alarm in the glow from my phone. I stared at the secret camera mounted into the finial of my bookcase. Crowe moved in a slow circle, then moved to the windows to make a scan of the exterior. We had picked this room for our office precisely because it provided a vantage point for three sides of the property. The fourth side was visible over the loft window.

“Dorothea, recently, you came into ownership of a rare piece of jewelry.”It wasn’t a question. Whoever this was already knew about Eastin’s death and Dorothy’s escape with Crowe.

“How do you know that?” she said cautiously, but her eyes were like accusing daggers of hatred. She seriously thought I had sold her out. I might be a bastard, but I was a bastard with honor.

Nick gritted his teeth. “Why don’t you just tell him the combination to the safe while you’re at it?”

“If I knew the combination to the safe, then you wouldn’t still have my emerald,” she clipped back, struggling once more to free herself from his iron grip.

I pinched at the bridge of my nose, heaving a sigh.

“I require verification of its authenticity.”

I leaned forward, silencing Dorothy before she could leak any other vital information. “And who exactly would we be providing this verification to?”

“You know me as The Wizard.”

“So you did get my message.”

“Before I can entertain negotiations, I need to verify the stone.”

“What guarantees do we have that you are who you say you are? How do I know you aren’t just a WM merc with hacker skills?”

“Don’t insult me. I could still blow up your kitchen if I wanted. Your safe is on the other side of the compound. I’m sure the emerald would be just fine. You can either bring the stone to me, or I can find it by sifting through ashes and bone. Either works for me.”

“Where did you want to set up this meeting?”

“The coordinates will be sent to you on the morning of the ninth. Be in Emerald City by that time.”

“The ninth is less than a week away.”

Nick leaned into me, whispering under his breath, “We have that job in Seebania tomorrow. We’ll never make it by Friday.”

“Be there at 9, or you forfeit.”

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