Page 63 of The Hive Queen

I freeze at the drawing of the crystal spearhead, the wordsShard of Eternitywritten above it, and don’t read any further.

Flipping the book around, I stab a finger on the page. “What is this?”

The teasing tone falls from Flint’s face. “The fancy weapon we need to kill the Hive Queen.” He quickly reaches out and closes the book. “But it’s been lost.”

“No, it hasn’t.” I yank out my phone and hit Trent’s number. “That’s the thing we stole from the danguri.”

His eyes widen in shock. “Small world.”

“No shit.” The line rings, and when it clicks over, I don’t wait for Trent to speak. “I need the contact information for the person who bought that spearhead.”

“Well, good evening to you, too.” Trent grunts, followed by the sound of sleepy murmurs. “Let me look it up. What’s going on?”

“There’s a monster over here that can only be killed by that stupid thing.” I tap my fingers against the table with impatience. “We need it ASAP.”

“I have the address, but it’s a PO Box,” Trent cautions. “And I’m pretty sure the name is an alias.”

“Just give us what you got, and we’ll take it from there.” I put the phone on speaker. “We’re all here.”

“Hey, Trent,” Pen and Flint chorus together.

He grunts in response, the click of keys filling the line. “Here it is.” He rattles off the PO Box address, and Flint grabs a piece of paper and pen to write it down. “And the name of the client is Lavoro Cane.” He snorts. “Like I said, clearly an alias.”

“No, I know who that is.” A sinking sensation fills my stomach as I remember a slender delivery box on the table at The Harbor. “Thanks, Trent.”

“Hey, you guys need some backup?” His excitement for a new job comes through loud and clear. “We don’t have anything lined up.”

“I’ll let you know.” I hang up before he can say more and meet the eyes of my partners.

“Small. Fucking. World,” Flint swears.

Sharpe looks between us. “What? Who is Lavoro Cane?”

“Amalia.” Pen closes her eyes. “Lavoro Cane is an alias for Amalia Wolf.”

And, just hours ago, I let her slip away with the very weapon we need.

falling apart

- Pen -

Dread coilsin my stomach as Marc shoves his phone back into his pocket, Trent’s voice still hanging in the air.

Amalia has always been stubborn, and she won’t give up that Shard without a fight. Not if she thinks she can defeat the Hive Queen on her own.

Flint’s hands tighten on the book he holds in frustration. “We saw her just this morning!”

Sharpe curses and paces away from the table. “Dammit. Johannsson let her escape right out of his patrol car.”

“Don’t be too hard on Paul.” I reach out to grab his arm. “Locks can’t stop Amalia.”

“But I could have.” Flint thumps a fist on top of one of the books. “She was in our office, right in front of me. She had the Shard the whole time and said nothing, knowing we were both after the same monster.”

“Not the whole time.” Marc scrapes a hand through his chestnut hair, making the strands of gold within shimmer beneath the overhead light. “I saw her picking up the package at The Harbor only a few hours ago.”

Flint whips toward him, accusation in his eyes. “I thought you said you’d only been back in Clearhelm for a couple of hours.”

“I’ve only beenhomefor a couple of hours.” The muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches his teeth. “I had business to take care of first.”

---