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“Where’s the queen?” she asked, her eyes darting suspiciously around.
“Gone,” I hissed through gritted teeth. I glared at Eva, my hands shaking with rage.
“I bet she’s close. You probably can’t crawl two feet without her hovering.” She scrunched her face and looked me up and down, a smirk playing on her lips.
Atticus spoke to her like she was an annoying little sister. “Eva. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will tie you up if you threaten Christine’s safety.”
“Go ahead and try it,” she threatened.
Atticus took a step closer, and Eva burst into laughter as if this entire standoff was utterly preposterous. What had this kid been through? What kind of darkness did she know?
Once her gales of laughter ceased, her voice lowered to a whisper. “What if I wanted to switch sides?”
Atticus’s response was sharp and authoritative. “No.”
“Why not?” she asked cautiously.
“Because I don’t trust you,” he answered, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
“I don’t trust you either,” she retorted with a sly smile, “but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing we can do for each other.”
My stomach clenched in apprehension. “What’s your price?”
She beamed with determination. “Respect. Freedom.”
Atticus furrowed his brow in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Her expression twisted into a scowl. “My father is only ever using me as a pawn to get favor with Theodore DuPont, but when the job is done, he locks me away again. I’m tired of working for both of them.”
I cautiously scrutinized Eva with a hint of suspicion. She appeared to be an asset, but I wanted to be sure. I shifted my gaze toward Atticus. He seemed to like her, but I still had my doubts. I slowly turned back to Eva. “And…you’d work for us?” I asked hesitantly, keeping my guard up.
She nodded her head, her features set in a hardened determination. “Yes—for now at least.” She paused, her expression defiant as she squared her shoulders and looked me directly in the eye. “But eventually I want to go to high school and university. A place where I can learn and become my own person, away from my oppressive father and Theodore DuPont.” She then looked at Atticus. “On top of that, I want to manage one of your income streams—preferably the weapons deals.” She clenched her fists angrily. “I have some good ideas on how to expand that area of your business, but every time I mention them, my dad takes credit for it. I’m done with him stealing my work.”
Atticus’s throat tightened as he locked eyes with Eva. Her demand for participation in his mission was not to be taken lightly. He spoke with care. “Eva, I understand your eagerness, but what you’re asking for is not that easy. We are in the midst of something dangerous, and I’m not sure if my team is willing to—”
“Then I’ll tell my father,” she interjected. Atticus heard an icy threat in her voice. Her finger rose before he could speak again. “If you don’t let me help, then I’ll tell Lord Nathan and Theodore DuPont about you. But if you need me, I’ll stay away from your mess and help if you ask.” Eva’s gaze didn’t waiver as she spoke, determination radiating from her being. She held up her hands. “I can’t live like this anymore. My whole life has been surrounded by death and destruction. I just want…I just want to enjoy myself for once.”
Atticus glared at me as if he expected me to talk some sense into Eva, but I felt my own resolve falter when I saw the same look in her eye that my sister had when I’d tried to reason with her in the past. I slowly turned my gaze toward the red door.
“Do you know who lives here?” I asked.
Eva snorted with laughter. “Mindy Little. Mother of Ryan Little, who declared himself an officer in Lord Nathan’s rebellion army.” She sneered and shook her head, her lips curling in disgust as she spat out her next words like venom. “She’s a lying, backstabbing moron that wants to sleep with Theodore DuPont.”
Atticus and I jumped back, like the words had struck us like lightning. We spun away from the door and raced down the alleyway toward the main road, trying to put as much distance between us and that house as possible. “Shit,” I muttered. “That could have been a disaster.”
“You’re welcome,” Eva said, her bouncy stride filled with an underlying deviousness. “If you really want to talk to a woman in charge, I suggest Yasmin Lee. She lost two sons in the massacre three years ago and runs a local soup kitchen. Everyone here loves her and she’s got pull. I could introduce you, if you’d like, but she’d probably prefer to chat with your queen.”
“I’ll manage,” I murmured, my voice heavy with distrust.
“And I hope you’ll manage to keep me updated,” Eva said, trailing after us.
“If you want us to trust you, then you’ll have to prove yourself,” Atticus declared firmly, his tone laced with determination. “We will investigate your suggestion with caution and make sure Christine isn’t walking into a potential trap.”
I could feel her eyes burning into my back. “Fine. If you need me, I’m staying at the same hotel as you. Next door, actually. If you could tell your queen to keep it down, that would be great.”
We stopped walking to stare at her. She grinned. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have called my father the second I saw you rolling into town. Think about my offer, DuPont.”
“So you’re Christine?” Eva said while looking her up and down. I wished we had called ahead to let her know we were bringing her, because Christine’s hair looked like Augustus spent the last hour holding onto it while he fucked her from behind, and there was a large hickey on her neck.
