A Chip and a Chair (Seven of Spades, #5)(71)

“How many?” she asked. “All right. Yes, thank you.” Turning to Levi, she said, “We have to move. A van full of Utopia foot soldiers is approaching from the west.”

He clenched his jaw.

“I know Utopia is planning something tonight, something big. The police can’t be trusted, and by extension, neither can the FBI. But I know that both you and I would give everything to stop Utopia. So it’s time for you to decide: Do you want to kill me more than you want to save Las Vegas?”

“No,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”

She holstered her gun on her hip, pulled a folding knife from her pants pocket, and sawed through his zip-ties. He grunted at the burning pain in his shoulders as he brought his arms in front of his chest and stretched his spasming muscles.

“You should take the guard’s gun,” she said while she checked the magazine of her own.

“I can’t trust that I would fire it.” He stood, steadied himself, and shook out his limbs. “You’ve never used a gun before.”

“I always have one on me, just in case. I’ve never needed to use it until today, but even with Carmen’s help, I couldn’t take on a warehouse full of armed gunmen with a knife.” Natasha unzipped her military-style jacket, reached inside, and came out with a stun gun, which she handed to Levi. “Here. At least we know you won’t hesitate to use this.”

His pulse roared in his ears as he contemplated the stun gun. The knife with which she’d cut his zip-ties couldn’t have been the murder weapon that had slit so many people’s throats-it wasn’t nearly big enough.

But this? Odds were, this was the very stun gun Natasha had used to incapacitate Milo Radich when she’d taken him by surprise. The one she’d used to torture a confession out of Grant Sheppard in Philadelphia before stabbing him to death.

In that moment, there was nothing Levi wanted more than to jam the prongs into Natasha’s neck and fire.

His hand flexed on the grip. When he looked up, she was watching him with an expression that said she knew exactly what he was thinking-but then, she’d always been good at that.

“Can you handle this?” she asked.

He swallowed. There was no place in his brain for vengeance right now. He only had two goals-protect the city, and get to Dominic. Everything else would have to wait.

“I’m good,” he said.

Natasha led the way to the door, readied her gun, and rested her other hand on the doorknob. “All right, Carmen. We’re ready for that exit.”



When Dominic regained consciousness, he wasn’t confused. He absorbed the antiseptic brightness of the hospital room, the scratchy sheets against his skin, the nauseating pain throbbing through his head. None of it mattered.

“Levi,” he said.

Someone rested a hand on his arm. As he was turning his head-slowly, carefully-he realized that Rebel was draped over his legs at the foot of the narrow bed, and blinked. That was weird.

His mother’s worried face peered down at him. “Oh, thank God, you’re awake.”

“Where’s Levi?”

Rita exchanged a glance with someone on Dominic’s other side. He did another painful turn, this time to the left, to see Carlos perched in a chair next to the bed.

“I’m gonna call Martine,” Carlos said. “She wanted me to let her know the second you woke up.”

He patted Dominic’s shoulder and hurried out of the room, leaving silence in his wake. Rebel wriggled up the bed to lick Dominic’s fingertips.

Dominic fixed his gaze on the ceiling. “If he’s dead, just tell me,” he said, the words ringing hollowly in his ears.

“He’s not. At least, not as far as we know.” Rita leaned over, stroking Dominic’s forehead the way she had when he’d been sick as a child, though she avoided the part of his skull that hurt the worst. “Do you remember the car crash?”

“Yes.” Oh, he remembered the crash, all right. He remembered that it had been his fault. He hadn’t been paying attention, hadn’t reacted to Martine’s warning fast enough-

“Levi was taken from the scene. We haven’t heard anything since then, good or bad.”

“How long has it been?”

“About seven hours.”

Dominic closed his eyes. Tears leaked from the corners and trickled down his temples.

“In this case, no news is probably good news.” Rita rustled through her purse, then dabbed his face with a tissue. “The police issued a public statement claiming that Levi managed to escape the attack and leave the state, so very few people know the truth. After Utopia made such a fuss about wanting him alive, if they’d killed him-”

“They’d have splashed the news of their victory all over the city?” Dominic’s voice was dull, lifeless.

She sighed. “Yes. But they’ve been quiet since the video this morning.”

Rebel pushed her entire face into Dominic’s hand, licking aggressively until he took a more active role and scratched under her chin. He opened his eyes and gave her a weak smile.

His mother was right. She had to be. If Utopia had killed Levi after they’d gotten their hands on him, they would have shouted it from the rooftops. Until that happened, he could operate under the safe assumption that Levi was still alive.