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Disreputable Allies (Fates of the Bound 1)

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Fingers twitched.

Reaper’s twitched.

Lila noticed.

When Reaper wheeled around and aimed his Weberly at her head, she didn’t budge. She’d already drawn her Colt, just as she’d practiced so often with Sergeant Jenkins, trigger ready for one short pull.

She could have taken them all down, perhaps should have, but she needed to be sure that she had the right person, that Zephyr hadn’t sent a lackey in his place.

Dixon and Tristan’s weapons followed a half-second behind, covering the bodyguards.

No one said anything at first. Lila passed her gaze them all, hoping no one fired. Best-case scenario: everyone took a dart to the neck and Fry, Dice, and Frank carried them all back to the truck. On the other hand, perhaps not everyone’s gun was filled with darts.

That was the worst-case scenario.

Even if it didn’t come to that, she had to make sure she got Zephyr to Shaw before he had the chance to speak to anyone else, before he had a chance to send his article to the press.

She couldn’t do either of those things if she had a dart in her neck.

“You’re Zephyr?” Tristan asked.

Reaper shrugged, his eyes remaining on Lila. “I have many names. Many jobs. Natalie didn’t tell me that I’d be meeting you. Perhaps I should have figured it out from your message, but who would have thought that you’d meet with your former masters? Who would have thought you’d need another hacker?”

Well, that answered one question. Reaper really was Zephyr.

“Put down the gun, Reaper,” Tristan said. “I’m here because I need someone to do a job that Hood can’t.”

“Won’t,” Lila corrected, playing along.

Reaper bit his lip. “You’re right. There are far too many guns in this room.” He holstered his, motioning for his men to do the same. He then strode forward and clapped Dixon on the shoulder. “You almost gave me a heart attack, you tongueless—”

Dixon shoved him away angrily, rubbing his shoulder.

“Too hard?”

“Quit screwing around. Can you break into Liberté or not?”

“Perhaps.” Reaper grinned. The smile did not go to his eyes.

Outside, the shouts of the mob increased. Whistles pierced the air. Catcalls. Dares. Something had changed in the tenor of their voices.

The hairs rose on the back of Lila’s neck.

“They’ve stopped laughing.” She eyed the windows.

Tristan’s hand moved to his holstered gun. He’d felt it too. “How soon can you start the job?”

“Not so fast, boy. Let me explain how this works, since you’re new. You tell me what information you want, and I’ll tell you what information you need. In my experience, clients often don’t know. They think they need one thing, and often they just need another.”

“I know exactly what I need. I need you to break into Liberté. Natalie should have already given you the bank account number from—”

“Take my advice and things will go smoother for you. I give great advice. I’m sure Natalie explained that.”

“You assume I trust Natalie. I don’t.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re not an idiot. I’m curious, though. Why do you need information about that particular bank account?”

“It’s bound up in a job. I need to know who the account belongs to. That’s all you need to know.”



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