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“Like the dreamcatcher,” Raine said. “Except…”
“Except,” Tam said. She twisted the knob where the chain was attached. The thing clicked open in her hand, revealing a dense tangle of wires and circuits, and a wad of what looked like grayish clay.
Sean sucked in a sharp breath. “Is that what I think it is?”
“A bomb,” Tam said proudly. “It has a limited blast range, but it’s very effective. Place it next to the target’s pillow while he snores in postcoital bliss, go to the next room, take off your earring, twist…” she demonstrated, pulling off the jeweled bulb, “and voilà.” She revealed a small button. “Your detonator. Ka-boom. Your life has been simplified.”
Seth made a rude sound. “Did it occur to you that some women might be sleeping with men that they do not necessarily want to snuff?”
Tam shrugged. “Things change,” she said. “Men grow tiresome.”
Seth muttered something in Spanish that sounded insulting.
“It’s a waste to blow up something so beautiful,” Liv commented.
“There is that to consider,” Tam agreed. “Which is why I have a simpler version, with poison beads. Tasteless, odorless, with a helpful chart to help the novice poisoner get the right dosage based on body weight and timing issues. There’s a version with inhalants, and a tiny hypodermic, too. But I think my bomblet might have some takers. There have been moments in my life when I would have sacrificed jewelry worth millions in exchange for some man’s sudden death.”
T-Rex’s bloody grin flashed through Liv’s mind, making her feel nauseated and cold. “Amen to that,” she said.
Erin, Margot, and Raine all nodded.
Tam stared at Liv with narrowed golden eyes. “Now what kind of piece would be the perfect ‘Olivia,’ I wonder?”
Liv looked at the scabbed marks around her wrist. “Something to cut through ropes or plastic, even if your hands were tied,” she said.
Tam’s eyes lit up. “I have just the thing.” She chose another box, and flipped it open, revealing several rings. Some with glowing stones clutched in tangles of golden wire, some with simple metallic braided bands and stripes. Tam picked out one of the simpler designs, variable bands of colored gold swirling around a square-cut piece of jasper.
“Pry out this lever, and press the stone,” she directed. “I made it hard to trip, because I don’t want a blade popping out at the opera while you’re clapping after the overture. Sean, would you demonstrate?”
Sean looked dubious. “Is the blade poisoned?”
“If I wanted to kill you, I’d have done it long ago,” Tam snapped.
Sean did as she had directed. A very small but efficient looking blade snapped out, less than an inch long, and serrated near the base.
“You could slice off your own fingers,” Davy commented.
“Yes, in fact, it’s a nice little surprise weapon,” Tam said. “And as a last resort, you can always use it to open a vein.”
A nervous silence followed her words, quickly followed by a grunt of disgust from Sean. “Yeah, over my dead body.”
“Just so, my friend,” Tam said softly. “Just exactly so.”
Liv shuddered. She looked into the woman’s big, golden cat eyes, and found herself caught in them. Tam’s mocking laughter was gone. Somber shadows had taken its place. A silent understanding, beyond words. Tam had been in that place where T-Rex had almost taken her the other day. Where death would be a mercy. She knew it well.
Some part of her had never quite come back from it.
Liv took the ring from Sean’s hands, and examined the sharp little blade. Yes, this would have come in handy yesterday. She pushed the chunk of jasper with all her strength.Snick,the blade snapped back.
Too bad she didn’t have tens of thousands to spend.
She held it out to Tamara. “It’s a wonderful piece,” she said, with total honesty. “Beautiful, as well as useful. You’re very talented.”
Tam slid it onto her index finger. It fit perfectly. “It’s yours.”
Liv gasped, and pulled the ring off, holding it back out to her. “Oh, no. I couldn’t. It’s so valuable.”
“One of the nice things about being rich is that I can afford to indulge my sentimental impulses.” Tam slid the ring back onto Liv’s hand. “I don’t have sentimental impulses often, so don’t waste it. And your man hasn’t gotten you a special ring yet, has he? Cheap bastard.”
