by Amy Lane
When Josh opened the door to Grace’s soft knock, Hunter dragged Grace inside and crushed him close, taking one deep breath of relief before releasing him.
“Gotta go,” he said tersely.
“Enjoy your date,” Grace muttered as though bored.
Hunter gave him a tired grin. “Get that thing photographed and back in its package as soon as possible. The sooner you’re done, the sooner I get to claim I’ve gotten a hit on a job and I can disappear.” Stirling had brought the equipment with him—Hunter had no doubt he’d be in this hotel room with his trusty suitcase and laptop as soon as Hunter left.
Grace inspected the fingertip ends of his gloves like he’d normally inspect his nails.
Hunter shook his head, glared at him once, and took off. As the door closed behind him, Grace murmured quietly, “Don’t get laid, cowboy. I said no, you say no.”
Hunter let out a strained chuckle. “That’s what you’re worried about? I’d sooner blow a rattlesnake.”
There was a pause.
“Than blow that guy, right?”
“Yes, Grace. Than blow Tazo.”
Another pause, then, right as Hunter was getting in the elevator, he heard “Fine. Enjoy your fucking beer.”
Hunter chuckled all the way down, which worked well because he wasn’t that great an actor, and the smile he presented to Tazo was genuine.
He needed the edge.
An hour later, he slid back into the Westin, having excused himself for his pretend “meeting” after his second beer. (Always have the second beer, he thought irritably. The first could just be playing for time. The second meant you were planning to sit down and make a night of it, but dammit, you got that business contact and had to go.) The activity in his earbud told him that the object—and he’d never really gotten a bead on what it was besides the fact that it was “fucking stunning,” pretty much everybody’s words, and that you had to see it to believe it—had been taken out and photographed back at the Times Square.
Unfortunately, that meant Grace had got it back into the little bag before Hunter could see it, of course, but he was looking forward to actual pictures instead of X-rays.
The pictures—taken with a high-resolution camera on a black velvet background, part of Stirling and Josh’s rather amazing equipment bag—really were stunning.
“Damn,” Hunter said, looking at the images on Stirling’s monitor. “That’s… is that man-made?”
“I don’t think so,” Josh murmured. “I used the spectroscope on it, and it appeared to be natural. Bicolored tourmaline—in this case, amber in the center to clear on the edges.”
“It’s huge!” Hunter murmured. The base was the size of a silver dollar—in fact, the most striking image was of it couched in Grace’s palm.
“It is,” Josh said. “But that’s not what makes it so special.”
“Says you,” Grace muttered, sitting cross-legged in the center of one of the beds.
“Word,” Molly muttered. Molly was sitting next to him, wearing pajamas, her hair out around her shoulders, indicating that she was in for the night and done and over the hated wig. Every time Hunter looked up, she’d wriggled a little closer to Grace, forcing him to give her a little more room.
Good. Grace needed to not get away with shit all the time.
Which reminded Hunter. “Where’s Artur and Julia?” he asked, looking around.
“Julia took him out for a drink since the op was over,” Josh told him. “He was a little ragged, and she sort of charmed him out of the room.”
“What do you mean, ragged?” Hunter had needed to tune much of what had been said out, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to engage with Tazo, and he’d learned a few things, so that was important time spent.
“He was worried,” Grace said glumly. “About me. I didn’t intend to worry him again.”
“Again—” But Josh cut Hunter off.
“This isn’t the same, Grace. Julia will get him to see it. You’re doing something important now. This isn’t nearly as dangerous as what you were doing that freaked him out so badly.”
Hunter’s stomach went cold. “What were you—”
Josh was standing next to him, and his sharp elbow drove all the air out of Hunter’s lungs.
“So,” Josh said brightly, like he hadn’t just bruised Hunter’s ribs through his specially lined coat, “don’t you want to know what makes this stone really special?”
“It’s cut like a flower!” Hunter blurted. “Is that… can we do… does that even work?”
“No, that’s not it,” Josh said, cupping his elbow and gnawing on his thumb like his Uncle Danny.
“It’s not it?” Hunter said blankly.
“What?” From Molly.
“Are you kidding me?” Grace demanded.
Josh scowled at them. “You guys, carved gems are a thing. It’s just that a lot of jewelers don’t have the skill—or sometimes the imagination—to do this to a piece of gemstone. No, the carving is brilliant. The fact that it’s shaped like a magnolia is… well, it’s damned pretty, and probably laser cut, and it needs a lot of skill. But that’s not the super special prize in the bottom of the box. Stirling, do you want to tell them all what we’ve won?”
Stirling chuckled and fiddled with the zoom on his computer monitor. The long shot of the gem cupped in Grace’s hand changed to the gem sitting face up on a piece of black velvet. There was something odd about those petals, a striation that changed the color intensity. What in the fuck…?
Everybody squinted at the picture, leaning forward as though they could will those inconsistencies and flaws to come into focus.
The zoom intensified until it was down to microscopic, and Hunter sucked in a breath.
Then Molly and Grace did too.
“And that is what I’m talking about,” Josh said.
“Is that… is that a microchip? Or… that’s computer mapping on the tourmaline, isn’t it?” Hunter gasped. “Like, those are—”
“Danny was right,” Josh confirmed. “This isn’t just a rock, and it’s not just a thumb drive. It’s an information bomb,” Josh confirmed. He held his phone up. “I texted Danny the pictures and he told Stirling what to look for. It’s got files alluding to Lucius—”
Broadstone, who had been sitting silently in the darkest corner of the room, nodded appreciatively.
“—but it’s got more secrets here. Tourmaline’s a fairly common material, even when it’s fancy cut like this. But guys, the information on this rock? Depending on what else it holds, that could be worth billions.”
“So what are we going to do about it?” Hunter asked, and Josh pursed his lips.
“I need to have a conference call with Felix and Dan—”
And at that moment, his phone rang.
“Hey, Dad, you’re on speaker.”
“Are Julia and Artur with you?” Felix Salinger had that air of command that made good soldiers like Hunter automatically square up their shoulders.
“No, they’re out,” Josh replied. “But Broadstone’s with us.”
Felix grunted. “Still?”
“Yes, still,” Broadstone spoke up, annoyed. “You may remember, whoever these people are, they’ve stolen my tech.”
“You don’t even know which tech yet, though,” Felix said suspiciously. “You won’t know until someone shows up next quarter with your neat and spiffy new product in their catalog. Did I get that right?”
“Shut up,” Broadstone muttered sheepishly, and everyone in the room smirked. Handsome enough—besides the arctic hazel eyes and dark-brown almost black hair, Broadstone had a patrician nose and high forehead, like a young Gavin Newsom but with less crazy. Apparently, besides having full responsibility for his company, he also had a sense of humor, and Hunter had to admit, he seemed to fit in.
“Yes, sir,” Felix responded acidly from the phone. “Shutting up now, sir. Here’s the thing, children. We went looking for ripples—what sorts of things happened after
Artur’s packages were delivered—and we didn’t find any for the delivery sites. No ripples. Artur dropped his package off, his trip went flawlessly, and that was the end of it.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Josh said.
“That’s ’cause you top,” Grace quipped, and Josh casually shot him the bird without even looking up. “Sometimes,” Grace murmured to Molly.
Hunter sent him a look, and he subsided, but Hunter got it. The world wasn’t paying attention to Grace, and he’d needed to know he hadn’t been forgotten. Hunter saw Molly pat his knee, and his shoulders relaxed. It wasn’t only Hunter, then, who was starting to understand the care and feeding of the exotic creature they called Grace.
They all heard Felix breathe patiently through his nose and out his mouth, and then he continued on. “The thing is, using Broadstone’s company—and some of the tech he told us had been stolen, we started looking for other ripples. And it turns out that there are consequences to the drop-off, but they’re usually about three weeks afterward. In a city far away.”
“Oh my God,” Josh muttered, gnawing on his thumb. “Dad, how are we going to—”
“We can always steal it again,” Grace said, sounding excited.
“So you can say you stole the same gem twice in a night?” Stirling taunted.
“Or,” Josh said patiently, “we can use the tracker Grace put on the box in the first place. Grace, you said the seal on the box was broken, but they were still keeping the gem inside, right?”
“Yes,” Grace said. “Box had been opened, but gem was back inside. I would bet they were told to check to make sure the right thing was in the bag. I’d do that.”
“So,” Hunter said, remembering how Tazo and his companion—Piotr—hadn’t objected too strongly to Hunter leaving because they themselves had an early night. “So….” He kept his arms crossed in front of him but drummed his fingertips along his ribs. “So they are going to have to deliver the gem to their employer, either tonight or tomorrow. Stirling, is it still in the Times Square?”
“Box hasn’t moved,” Stirling confirmed. “Grace, where was the box when you grabbed the gem to take pictures?”
“In someone’s duffel bag,” Grace said. “In the bottom.” He sniffed. “Thank God for gloves. Someone needed to wash his underwear.”
“That’s Tazo,” Hunter said with a grunt and then realized everybody was looking at him with speculation in their eyes. Oh. “No!” he snapped. “No, I didn’t sleep with him.” He let out a huff. “I ran into his ex-girlfriend on an elevator.” He shuddered. “People, the things she told me…. Some things you can’t rinse from your inner eye.”
There was sort of a collective grimace, and Felix said dryly, “And moving on…. So we can safely assume we can track the gem wherever it goes. Stirling, how long will the tracker last, and what’s its range?”
“A week,” Stirling said. “And pretty much the continental US. Anything outside—”
Danny spoke up. “And we can assume it’s from a Kadjic stronghold in Armenia or the Ukraine. Or Monaco. Either way, out of our purview.”
“But probably North America or Canada,” Broadstone said. “The tech, anyway, has all been sold to companies in that region.”
“So we, what?” Hunter asked. “We wait?”
“You have a better idea?” Josh queried. And it was a query. That was one of the things Hunter liked about Josh’s crew. Better ideas were always welcome.
“Let me catch Tazo tomorrow morning. I can knock on his door, tell him my lead for a job didn’t pan out, ask him to rec me—”
“Absolutely not,” Danny and Felix said, both at the same time.
Aw. That was sweet. “Guys, I’m not going over to the other side.”
“No, you’re offering to play double agent,” Felix told him. “I know you think you’re badass—”
“He is!” Grace said excitedly. “He’s very badass—”
“I can vouch for this,” Lucius said ruefully. “He’s quite forceful.”
“Maybe he doesn’t have to be,” Danny said thoughtfully. “Maybe he just has to follow Tazo tomorrow. Is he staying in town or taking a flight, do you know?”
Hunter had been able to get at least that much out of Tazo. “He and his buddy are flying out Sunday. This is sort of a gravy gig for them. They have another job already lined up with someone else.”
“Then he’s definitely making the drop,” Josh murmured. “And probably tomorrow by the sound of it. Stirling, can you put an alarm on your computer so you know when the box, at least, is on the move?”
Stirling gave Josh a droll look, and they all took that to mean yes.
“Of course you can,” Josh said. “Okay, Dads?”
“Son?” Felix said while Danny cracked up in the background.
“That’s what we’re going to do. Everyone needs some shut-eye. We all chill, get some rest, and if Stirling doesn’t get the alarm before that, Hunter and I will stalk the gem and see where it goes. Everyone else, business as usual. Broadstone, I suggest you track down your Jenkins, the guy who shot at our friend, and see if you can guess where he’s going. Let us know, and we’ll make a plan later. I’ve got your number. If we have a planning meeting, I’ll text you, even if it’s back in Chicago.”
“Or I could text you,” Broadstone muttered, and Josh rolled his eyes.
“Don’t get your panties in a knot, big boy. I don’t tell you how to run your empire, you leave the cloak-and-dagger shit to us. You’re welcome to call us tomorrow and see what’s doing, but let us know about Jenkins, okay?”
Broadstone grunted. “Are we best friends now? Can we make playdates?”
Hunter gave him a thin smile. “Sure. Would you like to know what I do on a playdate?”
“Yes,” Grace said unexpectedly from the bed.
“No,” Broadstone told him, with a little more force than was, perhaps, strictly necessary. “But I will keep in touch.”
Hunter looked up and winked at Grace, who preened. God. God, he was so damned fun.
“So we have a plan,” Felix said, and everybody agreed.
“Stirling and I can spell Hunter and Josh on the tracking if it goes on too long,” Molly said, and she sounded reluctant as hell.
“And miss your shopping?” Josh teased. “No way.” He sobered. “Besides, you and Julia, in hair and makeup, need to go out and do your thing. Engage Artur and Grace. Look as normal as possible. Stirling, you can do your thing from wherever you want. Just tell us where command central is at the moment, deal?”
“Coffee shops,” Stirling said happily. “And here.”
Well, fair enough.
“Okay, Dads,” Josh said. “We’re bailing now.” His voice dropped a bit. “Love you both.”
“Love you too, son,” Felix said, and Danny added his own murmur, and then the conversation was finished.
They sat and planned a little more after that, waiting for Julia’s entrance to tell them that she’d arrived and put Artur safely in his room and to bed. By then it was after one in the morning.
More than late enough for them all to go to bed.
Hunter stood, watching Grace get to his feet and wobble a little, painfully aware that he, Josh, and Stirling were sharing the same room, and Grace was going off to his own. Grace obviously thought the same thing, because his eyes met Hunter’s over the bustle of the room, and something tender flashed in them. Something vulnerable.
“Grace, I’ll help you,” Hunter said, surprised the words were coming out of his mouth but not shocked that he’d wanted to say them.
He waited until they were both out of the room before he swept Grace up into his arms and cradled him like the damsel in distress Grace was definitely not.
“This is help?” Grace asked, sounding bemused.
“Hush,” Hunter murmured and continued to carry him to the elevators and down.
Easy Feeling
HUNTER RUTLEDGE was in Grace’s room.
Grace wasn’t s
ure what had kept him from struggling or bitching or whining as Hunter had swept him up and carried him down two floors and across the hotel. Part of it was just that Hunter didn’t really brook a lot of argument. He sort of was proof that arguments didn’t exist. And part of it was that Grace’s feet hurt, and he was tired.
But Grace worked through pain, and he and Josh had pulled more all-nighters than he could count.
It had to be something else, something more important.
Maybe it was the way Hunter smelled.
Or maybe it was the way his gray eyes grew warm and soft, almost ocean gray, when they locked gazes.
Or maybe it was the kindness Hunter had used when touching Grace’s feet.
Maybe it’s that you’ve been trying to get his attention for weeks, you stupid moo. Romance is for assholes.
Grace grinned at Hunter after Hunter deposited him on the bed. And then he started to take off his pants, underwear at all.
“What are you doing? No!” Hunter snapped, and Grace glared at him.
“But you brought me to my room!” he said.
Hunter sighed and reached up to his ear and took out his com, then held his hand out for Grace’s.
Without a thought, Grace took out the bud in his ear and dropped it in Hunter’s palm.
Removing the buds deactivated them. Hunter walked into the bathroom and came back with two nice tissues. He wrapped each bud in a tissue and put one on top of the clock. “Yours,” he directed—and one next to it. “Mine. Now I’m taking off my duster and my boots, and that’s all. You can take off your shoes and your hoodie—”
“No.” Grace clutched Hunter’s hoodie to his chest with tight fingers. “You gave it to me.”
Hunter raised his eyebrows but nodded. “Fair enough. Now I’m going to sit on this bed, and you’re going to lay your head on my chest, and we’re going to talk about stupid stuff for about half an hour before I leave and let you sleep. Do you understand?”
Grace let out a breath. Well, the instructions couldn’t be clearer.
“Why no sex?” he asked suspiciously.
“Because sex is easy for you,” Hunter told him sharply. “And I don’t want to be forgotten.”