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“That’s bullshit,” Cin grumbled. “New York is so much better.”
“It’s overpopulated,” I countered, turning over the cell phone she’d given me earlier.
Fucking Muñoz—so typical that he’d be Sparrow scum.
“And London isn’t?”
My lips quirked. “Only in the summer when the tourists are around.”
“You got to know it well when you were here forming BDSec?” Conor inquired eagerly.
His eagerness was more about the fact I was actually talking than an interest in my answer, I thought.
Since my conversation with Ovianar and Minerva, I hadn’t exactly been in the mood to ‘chat.’
Dead To Me had made it easy on us by popping up outside the gates to the fortress at Uvala Lapad just in time to hitch a ride with us, so she’d been keeping him entertained.
Mostly with tales of her tormenting that self-righteous cunt of a cousin of hers when they were kids.
“I did. Grew to love the place. It’s not home, but it almost is.” Subconsciously, I still thought of it as a haven.
“What I don’t understand is how they managed to get you to do what they wanted,” Cin complained. “I can’t get you to sit still long enough to teach me how to do that thing—”
Hissing under my breath to stop her from finishing that sentence, I glowered at her. “No talk of torture in front of them.” I prodded my finger at the guards up front.
“They’re on your side,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes.
“Torture?” Conor inquired.
“When she was deep in the CIA’s good books, they used to call her The Nutcracker. No one knows what she did to make them squeal, but she had a rep for getting the hardest nuts to crack. Hence the nickname.”
“I lost the ability.”
“BS.”
“Maybe I’m out of practice.” Though ithadworked on Donavan Lancaster, the one-time moneyman of the New World Sparrows. “Used it a few times this year and it failed twice.”
Cin frowned. “Maybe your heart wasn’t in it?”
Actually, that made sense. I was a different woman from the one I’d been before. But the truth was, Lancaster had earned his punishment. I’d only tortured Jintao and the two princes because I wanted Kuznetsov’s name and location.
Jesus.
Had I grown a conscience?
Sickened by the prospect, I straightened in my seat. Thankfully, I didn’t have to worry about that for long because two women showed up in a Mini in front of the house we were staking out.
“For traitors, they have good taste in cars.”
I snorted at Conor. “Only you’d have a Mini when you’re a gazillionaire.”
“It’s compact and I can park it. What about that sounds like a dumb move in New York?”
“How often do you even drive it?”
“Every Sunday, thank youverymuch.”
“Are you two going to start making out after the bickering? I’d be down for watching that if we didn’t have other shit to do first.”
