Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(57)

“Button it up, or I’ll put you in that damn machine,” Shepherd growled from his spot on the sofa. His hands were folded across his stomach, a cigarette wedged between two fingers.

“You’re nothing but a supercilious man.”

“Super what?”

“It’s my word for the day.”

Shepherd took a drag from his cigarette. “It’ll be your last if you don’t get the hell out of here.”

Gem curled her knees to her chest, her hair in a messy ponytail. Christian noted how young she looked when she didn’t have on makeup. She rested her head against Claude’s arm, which was draped over the back of the couch. Though Claude’s eyes were closed, Christian had a feeling he wasn’t asleep.

“No progress,” Viktor said, rubbing his eyes. “Are you positive you’ve never seen him before?”

Christian pulled out a chair and sat down. “Anything’s possible, but I see so many shitebags at the club that I don’t make it a habit to put them all to memory.”

Niko crossed the room. “Were you able to trace his location?”

Wyatt frowned. “I tried. No dice.”

Viktor tugged the whiskers of his silver beard. “Do you have enough money to see this to the end?” he asked Christian. “I don’t understand why we can’t add cash to your account.”

“Because he’ll know,” Christian said. “Somehow… he’ll know. We can’t take that chance with her life. And who the feck is that other prick bidding?”

Wyatt raked his fingers through his unkempt hair and yawned. “Anonymous asshole?”

“Sounds about right,” Shepherd said, flicking ashes into an ashtray on the floor.

When the computer chimed, Wyatt rolled into action. After a few keystrokes, he watched the screen and then sighed. “Just another bid.”

A second ping sounded.

“Fucker,” Shepherd grumbled.

Wyatt rolled away from his desk. “I set an alarm on the computer that goes off fifteen minutes before the end of the hour so I can get ready to bid. Christian doesn’t have money to waste, and this guy counters our offer as soon as he can.”

Christian had given Wyatt access to his account so he could monitor the funds and bid accordingly. A lot of auctions upped minimum bids toward the end, so it was in Christian’s best interest to bid low until the final hours.

Wyatt tossed him a squishy blue ball. “It’s a stress reliever. Squeeze on that instead of my good pens.”

Viktor bent forward, head in his hands. He wasn’t a man who lost control of his emotions, but his accelerating heartbeat told another story.

Wyatt poked his finger into his sock and scratched his foot. “Do you think he’ll be the one delivering her if we win the auction?”

“If so, he’ll die sooner,” Christian said matter-of-factly.

Blue shifted around in the beanbag chair, scraping the heels of her tall brown boots on the floor as she tried to sit up. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“Every penny,” Christian replied.

Silence engulfed the room. Christian and Raven had loathed each other from the start, and as far as the team was concerned, they’d only buried the hatchet for the sake of working together. Christian’s declaration to spend his entire immortal savings was greeted with skeptical looks and wide eyes.

“Are you sure that’s in your best interest?” she pressed. “You may never get that money back, Christian. Is that your entire life savings, or do you have anything stashed away?”

Viktor raised his head. “Do you have liquid cash?”

“Assets,” Gem corrected.

“Da. Assets. Gold, silver—any valuables hidden in another location?”

Viktor cursed in Russian when Christian shook his head.

“I hope you don’t have it all in cash,” Wyatt said with the utmost seriousness. “You should know more than anyone that cash isn’t king in our world. Inflation and all that jazz. The ancients were smart to hoard all their valuables. Just imagine how much buried treasure is out there.”

“If it didn’t create such a paper trail, I’d invest my money in sugar,” Blue said. “Humans put it in everything.”

Wyatt chuckled. “Your best bet is internet companies.”

Blue shook her head. “The internet won’t be around forever. Someday we’ll be living in huts again and talking about the good old days before the war.”

“What war?”

She stretched her arms across the back of the beanbag. “The one that’s coming. Don’t act oblivious, Wyatt. You know as well as I do there are underground organizations trying to start shit with genetic engineering. With all this technology, it’s only a matter of time before humans find us. I’m willing to bet their government already knows.”

Wyatt folded his arms. “Well, I’d like my key back before the war begins.”

Christian squeezed the stress ball and stared blankly at the floor. “How do we know the other bidder isn’t really him?”

Wyatt turned his chair toward Christian. “We don’t. Supposedly there’s someone who monitors that stuff behind the scenes, but it’s the black market. Newbies usually make that mistake when running their own auction. It drives away experienced bidders. Not only that, but you don’t want to piss off one of these moneybags. This one time… a guy actually started an auction to uncover the identity of the marketeer who screwed him over. And man, it got ugly. Betcha someone learned their lesson.”