Fated Blades (Kinsmen #3)(6)

“Yes. And in my case, they make no distinction between an argument over the precise calibration of the Kelly-particle agitator or the choice of a faucet for a new heated bubble tub.”

“Same.”

They shared a look. They were still enemies, but even enemies were allowed latitude when it came to complaining about family.

He rose. “The aerial is ready. Do you need us to stop anywhere?”

She had taken care of her affairs this morning. If her plan to convince him to cooperate had failed, she would have gone at it alone. “Everything I need is in my vehicle. I’ll give your people the code. They can bring it up.”

“Perfect.” He approached the door and waited as it slid open. She walked through the doorway, presenting him with an unobstructed shot at her back. If he struck, it would be now.

Matias turned left. “This way.”

They headed down the hallway to the same private elevator she had taken this morning, except this time there wouldn’t be six armed guards in it. Just her and Matias Baena.

She had lost her damn mind, but she’d made the right decision. She came to this man she had meticulously avoided all her life, a man who had no reason to trust her, and told him that his wife had betrayed him with her husband. There were a hundred ways he could have reacted. He could have lashed out at her; he could have refused to believe her; he could have shut down, gone into shock, or simply had her thrown out. Instead, they were riding an elevator, determined to fix this disaster before it became a catastrophe.

She was no longer dealing with it alone. She didn’t trust him, but she trusted the rage she’d seen in his eyes when his wife kissed her husband. For the first time since she saw that cursed recording, Ramona had room to take a deep breath. She did, and when she exhaled, she felt angry. Unbelievably, overpoweringly angry.

Gabriel. How dare he? How fucking dare he? She gave him everything. She turned a blind eye to his womanizing, to his endless vacations, to his consistent failure to carry out the simplest tasks. She freed him of all responsibilities. Literally, the only thing she asked for was loyalty. Not to her as a spouse—that was beyond him—but to the family that enabled his carefree existence.

She’d worked so hard on this project. She gave it her all, her every waking hour, her sleep, and her peace of mind. She lived and breathed it for the last three years. Her life had become a grind, a constant search for just a little bit more money, enough to keep the project going while overcoming never-ending technological setbacks. The relentless pressure of knowing that if she failed, or just wasn’t fast enough to outrun the other two competitors, the family faced financial ruin was her constant companion. It kept her up at night and woke her up in the morning.

The two of them, Cassida and Gabriel, thought they could simply take everything she’d worked for. They thought she would roll over.

Ramona laughed. It sounded like a promise of murder.

“We’ll catch them,” Matias said, his voice cold like the space between the stars. “I give you my word.”





CHAPTER 2


The aerial waited for them on a private landing dock on the seventh floor, sleek, silver with black accents, its lines refined and perfect. A large model, with a walk-in cargo hold, it looked like a bird of prey, designed for precision and speed, a hair short of a military ship. She liked it.

Ramona raised her eyebrows. “A little high profile, maybe?”

“As you said, time is a factor.”

Her belongings waited in a neat pile by the aerial: a large waterproof, fire-retardant bag with necessities and a few changes of clothes, a weapon case containing her favorite energy rifle, and a hideous chartreuse gown vacuum sealed in resilient plastic.

Matias frowned at the gown.

“You’re going to visit your sick aunt, and I’m going to the wedding of my childhood friend, whom I haven’t seen in ten years,” she informed him.

“But why is it so . . . aesthetically lacking?”

“It’s tradition. The uglier the bridesmaid’s dress, the better the bride looks. Also, it’s a great distraction. Everyone who witnessed me leaving will remember this monstrosity and little else.”

“It is rather memorable. Where did you find this on such short notice?”

It was the dress she wore the first time she met Gabriel. She had worn it in silent protest against the engagement she didn’t want. “I have my ways.”

He reached for her bag. “May I?”

“Please.”

Matias picked up her baggage and walked up the ramp into the aerial. She followed him, carrying her rifle and her dress. She liked the way he moved, balanced, relaxed but ready. The martial art of seco was fluid, relying on speed and constant movement, which was why the secare children started their training by learning dances rather than specific battle stances. But there was a vast gulf between a dancer and a martial artist. Matias moved like a fighter.

They deposited her belongings next to his large enviro-proof bag, which was stuffed so full it would be in danger of ripping if it wasn’t made of tear-resistant fabric, and made their way to the cabin. Dual pilot seats. In a pinch, either of them could fly. This was a combat ship masquerading as a luxury aerial. That meant the sensitivity of the controls and the acceleration were a step above commercial transport. There would be a world of difference between flying this craft and an ordinary civilian vehicle. Most pilots would overcorrect and crash.