Page 171 of Reverie

Then she pulls out a jeweler’s loupe to analyze the gems, and I try not to suck my teeth at her clear assumption that my stones are fake.

After waving over her partner, who also takes a look at my diamonds, both of them share a glance before breaking out into beatific smiles.

“Yes, of course!” The man scrambles to round the counter, meeting Patrick and me on the other side. “May I get you some refreshments? Champagne? Sparkling water?”

I can see the dollar signs spinning in the dude’s eyes, and his female counterpart reappears with a chilly bottle of Dom Perignon in one hand and Perrier in another.

“No, thank you,” I reply good-naturedly. “What bands do you have that have rose gold or platinum? Ideally, I’d like both metals, but we’re on a time crunch, unfortunately.”

The woman jumps again, headed to the back of the store while the other man says, “Of course, madame. If you’ll give me just a moment, I’ll present you with several options. Forgive me, may I ask your name?”

“Yes, it’s Winter B?—”

“Mrs. Ventura,” Patrick says, cutting me off. I’m almost as startled at the fact that he’s actually speaking words directed at me as I am that he punted a new name my way. “Just a reminder that we have your next appointment in fifteen minutes or so.”

I turn back to Patrick, who wears an unreadable expression, and then it dawns on me that I was about to give this stranger my whole legal name as if supervillains aren’t chasing after us. No wonder Veronica left. I really am too stupid to live sometimes.

“Right, thank you, Patrick,” I say, and the guard lifts an eyebrow, amused.

“Mrs. Ventura, thank you. Just a moment,” the man says.

When out of the man’s earshot, I open my mouth to speak to Patrick, but he shakes his head a fraction. A definitive “no.”

I snap my mouth shut.

“Mrs. Ventura, how about these?” The woman returns with a tray, seven rings evenly spaced for my assessment. “This is the…” she drones on about the different classes of rings and the types of diamonds embedded in the band.

I hum as I assess each one, aware that the guards are keeping time behind me. When the clock strikes 12:45, I frown at the shopkeepers.

“None of these are quite right,” I say. I look to Walker, who watches the male jeweler as he moves over to the main entrance.

“We will be closing for our midday break shortly,” the man says, turning the lock on the door.

That immediately sets me on edge, and when Patrick’s face hardens, I trip over the precipice into panic.

“You know, thank you so much for showing me all of these. We must be off now,” I say.

But then the woman grabs my wrist, which has me looking at my security, terrified.

Please, God. Please don’t let me die here.

Walker is the closest to me, and he pulls his gun out in a smooth motion, pointing it at the woman. But she’s fast. I’d be impressed at how quickly the female shopkeeper moves in any other scenario, but in this one, as she flicks a blade at Walker and stabs him right in the abdomen, all I can do is scream.

The shorter guard falls to the ground with a pained, wet roar, lifting his arm to shoot. The woman falls when his bullet pierces her skull.

Move, Winter!

I shuffle backward, finding the nearest wall and putting my back on it before dropping to the ground in a crouch. As soon as I land on my ass, our other assailant shoots Walker in the neck.

My change in position allows me to see everything that I don’t want to see—one guard on the ground, the other guard standing with his hands up as the male shopkeeper points one gun flush to his temple and another at me. Even though I’m on the floor, the shopkeeper has a clear sightline to where I sit.

“You don’t have to do this,” I say, my voice quavering and body shaking with fear and regret.

The man sneers. “For The Architect,” he says, but before he can finish the last syllable—before he can pull the trigger—a round hole appears right between his eyebrows.

I stare at the sight, confused, even when the man drops to the ground. Patrick rushes over to his comrade.

“What are you doing here?” Patrick says, his voice full of menace but his attention focused on his unconscious partner.