Had to have faith.

“You know what you have to do,” said Eli.

Stell nodded. “We have to find them again first.”

“That shouldn’t be hard,” said Eli. “Marcella doesn’t strike me as the type to run from a fight.”

IX

THREE WEEKS AGO

X

DOWNTOWN

MARCELLA’S steel heels clicked across the lobby of the National building.

June followed a step behind, her steps muffled in her gladiator flats.

She had taken on a new aspect—that’s what she called them—this time, as a lanky girl with shoulder-length black hair and wide, dark eyes, spindly legs jutting from a pair of white shorts. She was barely sixteen by the looks of it, and when Marcella had asked, June had simply said, “I heard he likes them young.”

“Can I help you?” asked the man behind the desk.

Marcella settled the sunglasses in her hair, blue eyes and long lashes on full display. “I certainly hope so,” she said in a breathy voice.

She had long ago learned how to turn men into puppets.

It was simple, no special powers needed.

She smiled, and so did the man behind the desk.

She leaned in, and he leaned in to meet her.

“We’re here to see Tony.”

Marcella didn’t have an appointment, but June was right: Hutch had been looking for her—he’d left a dozen voicemails on her cell since the card game. Half a minute later, they were on their way upstairs.

June slumped back against the elevator wall. She had gone suspiciously quiet, her mouth now pressed into a grim line. Her earlier humor had vanished, her gaze flicking nervously between the number pad on the wall, and her own reflection, and the gold trim on the ceiling.

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open onto an elegantly appointed foyer, bookended by a pair of men in dark suits, their holsters visible beneath their tailored jackets. Beyond them, frosted glass doors led into the penthouse.

“Gentlemen,” said Marcella, stepping forward.

Her outfit left little room for concealed weapons, but one of the suits still insisted on patting her down, his hands lingering on her hips and under her breasts. When the other guy reached to search June, she just sneered, and Marcella cleared her throat. “I’m pretty sure there are laws against that.”

The suit huffed but stood down, clearly deciding it wasn’t worth the fight. He tapped a code into a wall panel, and the frosted doors slid open. The space beyond looked more like a living room than an office.

Broad white sofas and low glass coffee tables, decanters arranged along a sideboard.

Tony Hutch sat behind a glossy black desk, reading a paper, the city gleaming in the floor-to-ceiling windows at his back. Beyond the glass, a slate patio gave way to a shimmering blue pool, steam rising where the heated surface met the cool spring air.

Tony looked up from his paper and smiled.