Page 42 of Stone Temptation
Didn’t like the sound of that.
The candy tasted of sour blueberry, making my eyes twitch.
“What is the cue?” I asked, left eye closed against the onslaught.
“You’ll see. Now, let’s go over the map.” He pulled out a tablet, showing me digital blueprints of the London tower. “The ring is kept in Carissa’s office inside a safe. I have the code here, along with the access code into the office.” He handed me a piece of paper. “Memorize it. This cannot be found on you. Can you manage that?”
“Yes.” I recited the numbers for the rest of the drive, letting them absorb into my mind.
Seeing London from the air was something else. It was incredible, a carpet of lights, the gargoyle tower a monolith dominating Hyde Park. Its five escalators vanished into the clouds, the green cylinder of light brighter than back in Brinecrest.
After the thrill of the helicopter ride, dread nibbled at my resolve. It worsened when we landed on a helipad atop a building beside the tower, then it reached chomping levels on the red carpet at the bottom of the escalators, cameras flashing, celebrities and VIPs all over the place.
Me being here, all glammed up, was a move to hide me in plain sight.
You can do this.
Seth grabbed my arm, crushing it. “Drop the deer in headlights act unless you want to join your baby brother.”
His cruelty snatched my breath. He never used Finn against me, or as a means to attack. And he never landed gut-punches with toxic words.
First time for everything, I guess.
I wanted to shake him off, proclaim him the king of all bastards before cracking his chin with an uppercut.
He’d snap my neck before I landed a blow.
Never give up.
Drawing a deep breath, steeling myself against every dark thought against this vile weaver, I slapped my game face on, linked my arm with his, and worked the red carpet as if I were a movie star.
“Much better,” Seth whispered, before kissing my cheek for the cameras.
EIGHT
Asher
Man, I looked good in the burgundy suit and a crisp white shirt.
“Nice,” I told my reflection, checking my styled black hair again. “Couple more buttons.” I opened the shirt enough to show off more skin, then sprayed on a tad more cologne.
“Done.”
I moseyed downstairs, still no change in the call for aid. Same old salty whisper. Same old pissing frustration.
“Looking good, bro.” Dane complimented me.
I gave him a twirl. “How’s the ass?”
“Chef’s kiss. Mine?” He twirled, showing off perky cheeks in a perfectly cut blue suit, his silver dreadlocks piled on top of his head.
“Is it hot in here?” I responded, fanning my face.
He punched me playfully on the arm. “Cheesy much?”
“Always, man. Always.”
He rolled his shoulders, joining me for the rest of the journey down to the ballroom. “Ready for this?”