Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Hatred tasted bitter in her mouth. “Why would they come for me? Is it because we’re connected to you?”
“It’s because of your talent. They’re charged with hunting their own kind, people like you, who work for the opposite side.”
“I see.” She looked at the darkened window. “Are there many others like me?”
“You’re the only chiromancist, but there are six others.”
“Seven arts,” she mused. The people she’d seen in Joss’s palm. She’d heard tales about people with these powers, legends that had been passed on through the centuries.
“Correct. You’re the seventh, the last of the arts.” He gave a snort-laugh. “It’s kind of fitting that it’s you who’ll destroy them. Seven is my lucky number.”
It was vital that she knew if she was being watched. “How did you know about last night, about Doumar?”
“Satellite. I know everything. Nothing can escape my eyes, so don’t even try. Double-cross me, and I’ll skin your son alive and wear him as a pelt.” The car came to a stop. “Tomorrow, I will show you how to copy the chip.” He opened the door. “You’re home, Miss Val. Get me what I need, and I won’t have to kill your son.”
“What about Doumar?”
“He’ll soon realize the truth. It has never been about him.” His smile was plastic, like a curve painted on a doll’s face. “It has always been about you.”
He didn’t move up, but made her climb over him to exit the car. Before she straightened, he grabbed her wrist and pushed something into her palm. His skin was as cold as a dead serpent’s. She looked at the smartphone in her hand.
“You need a phone. It’ll make contact with Mr. Black easier. If you wait for him to pitch at will, it may take longer than I’m prepared to wait.”
Doumar had always denied her the use of a phone. “Is it tracked?”
“Of course, and bugged.”
She was still looking at the phone when the car took off, leaving her standing on the pavement in front of the trailer park. In the heat of the summer day, she shivered with a chill. What Godfrey had said and what was happening to Doumar was too much. Finally, Godfrey had made his demand. The price for saving Niels’s life was the lives of others. She couldn’t do this to Bono and live with herself, but how was she supposed to live with giving up on her son?
Rushing inside her home, she lifted the cookie jar from the shelf and opened the false bottom. It had been a joke, a gift for her birthday from one of the guards at the club. Doumar had let her keep it, but he didn’t know about the hiding place. Removing the bills, she counted them. Two hundred euros. She sealed the money in an envelope, pulled on a jacket, and, keeping the satellite surveillance in mind, took a long way through shops and buildings to the payphone on the corner. For this call, she couldn’t use a tapped phone. Glancing up and down to make sure she wasn’t watched, she dialed a number she knew by heart.
Frans de Jong picked up after the second ring. “Frans, hier.”
“It’s Sky,” she said in Dutch. “I’ve got more money. Can we meet?”
“Same place?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
She hung up, closing her hand around the envelope in her pocket.
Chapter 6
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
Joss took the poster from Lann and held it up to the light. Medusa Movement, the new way to light was splashed in a gritty red print over the yellow paper with a watermark of the number seven crossed out in the background.
“Where did you find this?”
The Russian pulled off his glasses and cleaned them with the hem of his shirt. “It was glued to a lamppost near Doumar’s club.”
Sara, Maya, Sean, and Cain, who were in the kitchen, moved closer. Bono’s eye socket started to itch. He watched from the outskirts, sipping his coffee.
“Call the others,” Cain said, his voice uncharacteristically tense.
Sean left to execute the command.
“Do you really think it’s got something to do with us?” Maya asked.
Cain sounded regretful. “Without a doubt.”
“Why?” Sara left the knife she was using chopping vegetables on the counter and wiped her hands on a dishcloth. “I thought we had government protection.”
“We do,” Cain said, “but information leaking out about our existence was bound to happen.” He motioned with his head at the piece of paper. “This is the reaction I feared.”
Sean returned with Clelia and Ivan.
“What’s up?” Ivan asked.
“Oh no.” Clelia moved to Joss’s side and studied the poster. “A revolution.”
“The public has found out about us,” Cain said, “and they’re going on a witch hunt.”
“But why?” Sara asked again. “We’re fighting wars to keep them safe.”
Joss put his arm around Clelia, pulling her to his side. “People fear what they don’t understand.”