Proxy

In seconds he had the bolts off. He glanced up at Aileen, whose position hadn’t changed. She must be stronger than she looked to hold the gun aloft for so long without tiring. A 357 was on the smaller side, but still heavy enough. He never should have underestimated her.

“Unless you fancy getting wet,” said Jeth, “you might want to stand back.”

Aileen wrinkled her nose. “What’s the point? You’ve already ruined my dress.”

“Suit yourself.” Jeth slid his hands around the widest part of the toilet and then hoisted the whole thing into the air. Water gushed out, dousing his legs and shoes. The spray hit Aileen, and she skirted backward, gasping at the cold. She also lowered the gun. It was just a few centimeters, but that was all he needed.

With an almighty heave, Jeth threw the toilet at her. It fell short, but the spray of debris as the porcelain shattered did the trick well enough. Jeth leaped over the wreckage and seized Aileen’s wrist before she could react. She was definitely stronger than she looked, he discovered, struggling to overpower her.

She also knew a thing or two about hand-to-hand fighting, as she first stomped on his toes and then landed a punch to his gut. If she’d been a little bit bigger, it might’ve worked. But Jeth held on, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. A second later he had the gun in his hand and, with no small amount of relish, he jabbed the barrel against her breastbone, hard enough that she choked on a gasp.

Somewhere, in the deepest, darkest part of him a voice screamed: Kill her now. Even worse, that dark part of him wanted to do it with a cold, logical yearning. It would make the most sense, solve a massive problem in one quick, efficient blow. For a second, he even saw himself doing it, one squeeze of his index finger and it would be over. At this range, they would have to scrape pieces of her off the floor afterward.

Disgusted with himself, Jeth drew a breath. “There’s been a change of plans, Danforth. That is, unless Aileen intended for me to get ahold of her gun. You should pick your crew better next time.”

“What did you do?” Danforth said.

Jeth grinned. “Hit her with a toilet. Well, almost. Gotta say that makes for a first.”

Danforth swore. “Stupid girl. But it doesn’t change a thing. Lizzie is worth far more to you than Aileen is to me or my employer.”

Aileen, who Jeth guessed was wearing a comm unit similar to his, went rigid at Danforth’s words. “You wouldn’t dare to double cross me.”

Jeth laughed. “Clearly, you don’t know who you’re working with, Trouble. Danforth’s only loyalty, it seems, is to his Odyssey addition.”

“His what?” Aileen’s nostrils flared, her expression a cross between indignation and outrage.

“Oh, but surely you must’ve—”

“Shut up, both of you,” Danforth screamed loud enough to make Jeth wince. “We’re running out of time.”

The panic in Danforth’s voice was enough to scatter any remaining doubts Jeth might have had about the addiction.

“Don’t worry,” Jeth said. “When I get caught, I’ll send them your way.”

“That won’t save your sister,” said Danforth.

“Sure it will. She’s just a kid. They won’t hurt her. They’ll be far too preoccupied with the only adult involved.”

“Are you willing to spend the rest of your life in a Grakkian prison?”

“Are you? I’m not the one with an addiction to feed. I hear Odyssey detox can kill you.”

Danforth said something in response, but Jeth didn’t hear it. Another noise had captured his full attention: the sound of footsteps coming his way. He grabbed Aileen by the shoulder and swung her around with her back to him. Then he wrapped an arm around her waist, pinning her. With the gun pointed at her temple, he pushed her forward through the door and into the bedroom. Whoever was out there, whether security or servant, they might mistake Aileen for a noble as he had done, giving him a little leverage.

Two people had arrived in the emperor’s bedroom. Jeth’s stomach dropped to his knees when he realized one of them was Celeste, held at gunpoint by a man Jeth recognized as the blunt-axe sentry in plainclothes. He looked like a mountain of sinewy flesh and muscle, dwarfing Celeste completely.

“Put your weapon down or they’ll be picking her up in pieces,” the man said.

Jeth swallowed, a shiver going through him, both at the threat to Celeste and at the way the man’s words echoed his earlier thoughts. He doubted this guy would have any qualms about making good on his threat.

“And here comes the cavalry,” Danforth said, his tone unbearably smug. For a wild, insane moment, Jeth considered opening fire. He was a helluva good shot, and the man a large target. But one look at Celeste’s face and he decided against it. He’d never in his life seen her so afraid. A massive bruise was forming over her left cheek and blood trickled from a split lip. Her servant’s uniform was torn in three places. She might’ve been cowed by the man, but she hadn’t gone down without a fight.

Defeat like suffocation crushed down on Jeth as he let go of Aileen and set the gun on the floor. She grabbed it at once, wasting no time before pointing it at him again.

“Finish the job,” she said.

Gritting his teeth, Jeth turned and reentered the bathroom. He picked up the now sopping-wet pillowcase with the ruby still wrapped inside it. A whirlwind of desperate ideas tore through his mind, but none of them stood any chance of coalescing into an escape plan.