“What?” Jane scowled. “What the heck is going on?” She turnedher ill favor on her uncle. “And why all the cloak and dagger to get here?”
“I wanted to see if you’re still being careful. You can never be too safe, even in the civilian world.”
She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “You and Raine are the same person. Overly dramatic.”
Lionel started laughing.
“She’s not that funny,” Chris muttered and nudged his friend toward the house. “Go on. Invite us in. I didn’t come all this way just to get made fun of by a government stooge.” He shot Jane a sneer. “And I don’t mean Lionel.”
It took her a moment, but she followed him and Lionel inside the grand home. “Ha ha. Keep it up and I’ll leave you here.”
“Please.” Lionel shuddered. “Don’t punish me just because you find your uncle’s poor sense of humor intolerable.” His teasing tone changed, however, as he studied her. “We really do need to talk, Jane. You’ve stumbled into something that’s turned into a real problem.”
She trailed him past brick floors giving way to glossy parquet tile. Light gray walls accented with cream trim provided a backdrop for a host of paintings detailing long-forgotten wars fought by ancient heroes. She recognized a few. The Siege of Troy, The Apotheosis of Hercules, The Battle of Alexander at Issus.
And there, in Caron’sThe Triumph of Mars, the god, himself, lording over his warriors as they fought for the honor and glory of his people.
It just figured Lionel would prefer scenes of conflict instead of peaceful landscapes. Perhaps so he never forgot his place in the world? To keep those conflicts at bay?
They made it to the kitchen, where a carafe and three cups sat waiting.
Lionel’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Tea?”
“What kind?” Her uncle looked around. “No cookies?”
Lionel sighed. “You really are a boor.”
Chris smirked. “I’m actually pretty discerning about my biscuits, Lionel.”
Despite the clear differences between the sophisticated Lionel and the rough and tumble force that was her uncle, the men were eerily similar. Men of action who did what they thought right, regardless of society’s laws.
Laws she herself was bound to.
She waited until Lionel had seated them at the small nook adjacent to the kitchen. The plate of cookies he set down looked decadent, so she tried one crusted in dark chocolate and had to contain a moan.
I really need to stop all this sugar.
When she’d come up for air, she noticed her uncle and Lionel waiting.
Jane sighed. “Okay. Hit me. Tell me exactly what the Collective is all about and why I should be more careful than I’m already being.”
Lionel looked surprised. Had he really thought her that dense that she couldn’t see the conspiracy winding through everything?
Before he could respond, she answered for him. “And tell me why you haven’t brought August Kaminski in yet when youknowwhat he’s been up to since the Mazzuca case.”
Her uncle sat back, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave a harrumph. “Yeah, what she said.”
Then everything happened at once.
Lionel opened his mouth to answer.
Her uncle barked, “Down,” and tackled her to the floor.
Lionel crashed beside them while glass from the window behind the nook rained down amidst a hail of bullets.
Chapter 20
The gunfire ended seconds later,though it felt like an eternity had passed.
