CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sasha jolted into awareness, sitting in a chair at a table. It was slowly becoming less jarring each time it happened, but it still nearly made her drop the wine glass she was holding.
Luckily, if anyone—includingProfessor James Moriarty,whom she was currently seated across from—noticed her flinch, they were kind enough not to register it.
They were at a Parisian-style restaurant. All of the tables were for two people, seated in such a way that each couple were given the maximum amount of privacy from one another. Thick, tropical plants that would be considered exotic and strange in the Victorian era helped serve as additional dividers to keep prying eyes at bay.
The perfect place for a criminal mastermind and…whatever she was to discuss their plans.
Whatever their planswere.
Suddenly, Sasha realized she really needed to come up with a plan. Something told her that if she didn’t find a way to control the situation—or at least guide it—Moriarty would be the one driving the proverbial bus. And that was something she very muchdid not want.
Because if she didn’t come up with a plot.
Vile would.
And that would be far, far worse.
But it was hard not to get distracted by everything around her. She was in Victorian London—surrounded by people dressed in period garb, eating and chatting and the lights were gas lamps, and it was just sowildto see. Being in Neverland had felt like a bad acid trip at Disneyland. But something about this felt more…grounded. More real.
Moriarty was studying the menu with all the interest of a man who was reading the airplane safety card because he had forgotten to bring anything else to do for the flight.
It was so bizarre. Moriarty.TheMoriarty.
But that wasn’t true, was it? He wasn’ttheMoriarty. He wasaMoriarty. Her version of him, just as Hook had been her version of that particular villain. That might actually be a good thing. It meant she didn’t have to outsmart Arthur Conan Doyle. Just her own stupid brain.
And her sister’s.
And potentially Vile and Virtue’s.Which, therein was the question. How much of the plot was set by the two demigods, and how much was it set by her and her sister?
Maybe this was an opportunity to find out.
But, that left her once more with the glaring problem.
She needed a fuckingplot.
Something original. Something that would get her and Sidney out of this mess. But what could she possibly do with Sherlock that hadn’t been done before? What did she have to work with?
There were only two unique variables in play. Her and her sister. If she was Irene Adler, there was no doubt in her mind that Sidney was Dr. Watson. And if she knew her sister at all, Sidney was trying to snog Sherlock already. Which led her to the epiphany she needed.
This could either go very right or very, very wrong.
“We can sit in silence if you prefer.” She took another sip of her wine and put it back down on the table. She was going to need it forwhat was going to come next. “I assume you get very little peace and quiet during the rest of your day.”
“I assumed you were regretting your choice to come to dinner with me. Youdidlook quite troubled there for a moment.” Moriarty smirked at her, lifting his gaze briefly from the menu before returning his attention to it, as boring as it clearly was.
The man was a chess master, and everything around him was a game. A game he found perpetually unchallenging, she realized. That was his obsession with Sherlock—finally, someone who could keep him on his toes.
Sadly, she didn’t think she was smart enough to be his equal. The question was, was she even smart enough to sit down at the table with him? “Simply committing myself to what is to come, is all.” That was true. “Unlike what I have heard of you, Professor?—”
“James, please.” He smiled again lightly.
“James,” she corrected. “I…am unaccustomed to plotting someone’s downfall. Leveraging someone’s hubris to your advantage is one thing. To plot to take or destroy their lives is another thing entirely.”
That had his attention. He placed the menu down on the plate in front of him, those dark eyes staringthroughher. “And what has our mutual acquaintance done to warrant such a drastic response from you?”
“I cannot abide by arrogance. The man sought to destroy both my reputation and the reputation of another simply because he could not let an unanswered questionremain unanswered.He knew the answer. He simply needed to prove it to the world.” She grimaced, glancing away, playing her part. “If he truly believes himself to be such a paramount of intelligence andvirtue,why does he feel the need to constantly be such a public braggart?” She couldn’t help but emphasize the word.
