Chasing the White Lion by James Hannibal (mind reading books .TXT) 📕

with red. Those who worked the guest room hallways and utility tunnels wore black trimmed with yellow. Both blended into the décor like creatures in Dante’s circles. But these were not mythical beasts.

They were employees. On a schedule.

Shift change came at eleven, three minutes away. Replacements were already turning up. Darcy bumped into one of the new arrivals stepping off the lift. She poked his chest and made an accusation.

He emphatically shook his head.

Talia got moving.

With an easy pace, she made her way around the circle toward the arguing pair. Darcy saw her coming and advanced a step. The guard, unable to counter his own instincts regarding personal space, backed into Talia as she passed. He muttered an apology. She waved him off and kept walking, with his keycard palmed in her other hand.

Finn would be proud. And the idea that she wanted to make him proud caused Talia to crack a half smile.

The guest halls, founded on magma tubes, had no predictable organization or arrangement. They snaked and wound through the mountainside, branching off at odd angles. Obsidian sections poked through creepy wood wainscoting and silk wallpaper. Talia hoped the map Eddie had shown her was accurate; otherwise, she might walk in endless circles seeking her target room. Darcy couldn’t stall that guard forever.

The intersection ahead matched the map in her mind. She peeked around the corner, and there it was, a door like all the others but with a scan pad. A camera dome hung above the door. Jafet was no fool. Had Finn or Pell done this part of the job, they would have worn a guard uniform easily adapted into evening wear. Gowns didn’t work that way. Talia would have to move in and out of the camera’s view as quickly as possible.

“Come on,” she hissed at the guard behind the door. “Where’s your relief, huh? Go find him. You know you want to.”

As if by telepathic prompting, the guard waiting on the other side opened the secure door and stuck his head out. Talia jerked back. Footsteps. She jiggled the knob on a guest room door, offering a fleeting smile as the guard passed. He paid her no mind, and when he turned at the next intersection, Talia hitched up her gown and made a run for it. She slapped the stolen card against the scan pad and slipped through into the utility tunnels.

The walls back there were raw, chipped obsidian. And the doors were painted iron with thirty-year-old tumbler locks. No cameras. With the guard out of the picture, the rest of Talia’s work as Finn-slash-Pell’s surrogate would be child’s play.

She quick-stepped along the doors, searching for the main breaker room. A lightning-bolt danger sticker marked her target. Talia snorted. An OSHA-compliant mob boss. “Safety first, I guess.”

The clutch Talia carried was significantly lighter than the one she’d given Darcy in trade. Darcy had emptied most of its contents into the river, leaving only a phone, two tiny black boxes with alligator clips, wire cutters, and a bump key.

Talia pressed the bump key into the lock, applied turning pressure, and rhythmically tapped the head with the wire cutters. On the fourth tap, the lock turned. At the same time, something smashed into the back of her head.

Blinding pain.

Talia’s world went dark.

CHAPTER

FIFTY-

TWO

CLUB STYX

MILOS, GREEK ISLES

TIME UNKNOWN

THEBOAT.

The moonlight on the water.

Finn looking down at her. Talia needed him.

No. Not exactly. She needed him to do something. What was it?

The kids. Hla Meh. Finn had to find the little girl.

“Wake up please.”

Light flashed in her brain. Talia groaned. Pain throbbed at the back of her skull. She tried opening her eyes and shut them again, nauseated by the spinning of the world. Was the boat moving? That couldn’t be right. Talia had left the boat with the team.

Fighting the urge to throw up, she opened her eyes once more. This time, she held them open, but they did her little good. Her world remained dim and blurry. She sat slumped in a chair, neck limp. Attempting to raise her head brought more pain. On a short pillar of black rock nearby, wavering in her double vision, she saw her phone.

The clock.

The time.

The whole mission hinged on Talia clipping Eddie’s boxes to the electrical system to disengage the locks and cameras at the club’s seaside loading dock. Had she gotten that far?

A man in a black suit sat near her, their knees almost touching. He spoke with a South African accent. “Wake up. You’re almost there. I didn’t hit you that hard.”

“Yes, you did.” The dizziness and pain refused to subside. “What time is it?”

“Why do you care?” He laid her clutch on the pillar, followed by its contents—the cutters, Eddie’s black boxes, the stolen ID card, and the bump key. The fifth item he set down had not come from Talia’s clutch. He laid a handgun on the pillar behind the rest, out of reach. Her inability to focus prevented Talia from determining the make or model.

After letting her squint at the weapon for a time, the man drew one final item from his belt and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Light glinted off steel. A knife. Talia felt the cold tip against her cheek, but she didn’t have the strength to pull away. “Please.”

“Please tell you the time? Please don’t kill you?” He laughed. “I saw you slip into our utility hall from the monitor room. I’m sorry, my dear, but none of my people look this good in a dress.”

“Just . . .” Talia shut her eyes and opened them again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make the room stand still. “Just looking for the ladies’ room.”

“That old line? My goodness, I am dealing with an amateur.” He let out a sigh, as if bored by her bravado. “If there’s anything Mr. Jafet hates, it’s unanswered questions. Before I let you die, I need to know what you were up to.” He pulled the knife