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“Why would Razor Riley be out there?” Harte demanded.
“Because he’s working for Lorcan,” Dom said, not bothering to look back at Harte. He spoke to Everett then, lowering his voice and softening his tone. “Let me go, kid. Lorcan doesn’t know about you. Far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t need to know. You can walk away now without getting mixed up in this.”
“I’m already mixed up,” Everett said, squaring his shoulders.
“Look, we don’t have time for this.” Dom turned back to Harte. “Razor’s here to take the two of you to Lorcan, and I don’t have any plans to get caught up in that mess. We can stand here arguing about things, or you can let me go, and maybe you get away. Maybe the kid here can even get out clean without the Professor ever knowing he was involved.”
“You sold us out,” Esta accused, unable to stop the stupid note of disappointment from her voice.
“I saved you from the mess you were in back in Chicago,” Dom said, clearly affronted that anyone would be upset. “There’s no way you were getting out of there without my help.”
“But you were working for Nibsy the whole time,” Harte growled.
“I don’t work for anyone. I’m an independent businessman,” Dom said. “The Professor made me an offer that sounded like a good deal at the time. If it makes you feel any better, I thought I would be helping you. I never intended to—”
“How much?” Harte demanded. “How much were our lives worth?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dom said. “I’m not going to be able to collect, not if Razor doesn’t get you.” He gave them a devilish grin and clutched the satchel holding the Book and the artifacts tighter to his chest. “It’s a fair trade, don’t you think? You get to walk out of here alive and whole, and I get the payday I was promised.”
Harte lunged for Dom, but Esta was already in motion. She didn’t wait to warn Harte or make any heroic declarations. She simply took hold of her magic and pulled.
NEVER ENOUGH
1920—Brooklyn
Harte saw red as he lunged for Dom, but Esta had already caught him before he could even take a swing. The world went silent around them as she pulled him back, and it was only her sharp intake of breath, a sign that she was still in pain, that stopped him from breaking away from her and doing everything he could to pummel the conniving bastard who’d betrayed them.
He should have known that getting out of Chicago had been too easy. They should have left Dom’s warehouse last night. He should have insisted that they go rather than collapsing into sleep on that filthy couch. Instead, he’d let himself believe that fate or chance or whatever higher power there might be had given him a handful of minutes to just breathe and hold Esta in safety. As though fate had been anything but a fickle bitch since he was born.
Esta glanced meaningfully at Harte, and he knew what she was asking: whether Seshat was still quiet. He gave her a small nod. Thanks to the Quellant, there wasn’t so much as a rumble from the goddess trapped beneath his skin.
“Come on,” she said, pulling him toward the door, where Everett was standing frozen in time. “We have to go. We don’t have time for him.”
“It wouldn’t take long,” he growled, thinking about the satisfaction he would feel when his fist landed square on Dominic Fusilli’s nose. “And we’re not going anywhere without the Book.”
“I already have it,” Esta told him, patting the satchel she’d slung across her chest. “The Book and the artifacts, too.”
Harte took another look at the rat who’d betrayed them, longing to leave Dom with a broken nose to remember him by, but eventually he relented, and they moved together so she could pull Everett into her net of time as well.
Everett gasped, startled for a minute, but he recovered quickly. “If there was a way to bottle what you can do—”
Esta shot Everett a look that shut him up. “We go together. Whatever you do, don’t either of you let go of me.”
“Not a chance,” Harte told her, squeezing her hand slightly. Not ever again.
“Let’s go,” Esta directed, nodding toward the open doorway.
Harte didn’t argue this time. Together they moved toward the rear of the building, where they’d parked the truck in a gated yard late the night before. Esta and Everett started toward the vehicle, but Harte pulled them both back.
“What is it?” Esta asked.
The truck was still in the same place. The back loading area seemed to be empty as well.
“This feels too easy,” Harte said. They’d slipped away from Dom without any trouble, and now they were just going to walk away? “If Nibsy is behind this, we need to be ready for anything. He knows you. He’ll be prepared for what you can do.”
“How?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But if he knew somehow that we would eventually need that half-torn page in the Book, he certainly could predict that you would try to use your affinity to get away.”
