Chapter Nine
I turn on the faucet and let it run, then flip the loo’s lid closed and plop down on it. Mel turns on the shower to let it run before taking a seat on the rim of the bathtub.
Jaxon is still out with Collin, Eduardo is mending the front door, Jo’s working on the security overhaul, and Kavon has been watching us like a hawk, taking “keep an eye on these two” quite seriously. We just managed to talk him into letting us come to the bathroom to try on some of the clothes and raunchy lingerie Collin purchased for me online a few nights ago, per Jaxon’s orders.
Knowing our time in here is limited, I get straight to it. “What took you so long? And why aren’t we leaving?”
Expression sober, she utters one word. “Markus.”
Well, duh, I figured she’d go to Markus for help with locating me, but… “What does he have to do with these guys?”
She licks her lips and leans in closer. “He tasked us. We have to make them keep us.”
Who is Markus, you ask? Markus is the “very important man” that Dr. Brookbanks, our physics professor, introduced us to in college. The very important man who gave us lucrative contracts and travel opportunities, and made very important things happen for us.
We know this much about Markus: he works for the U.S. government, and he knows all things and can make anything happen. He gives us contracts, and we fulfill them. We build gadgets, and he buys them. Our relationship is cold and sterile. We know nothing about him—not even his last name—but he knows everything about us without us ever telling him. He’s never been the least bit menacing toward us, but… The man is dead scary.
I shake my head. “What kind of task could we possibly have here?”
She jerks her head to the bathroom door to indicate the people beyond it. “Do you know who they are?”
“Well, it’s glaringly obvious they’re professional thieves. But they seem benign enough—”
“Shh, Tim. Let me relay what Markus told me before that big bloke comes banging. They’re called the Unseen. They’re infamous, yet unknown. Exclusive. Elite. They pull off some of the biggest, boldest heists around the world without a trace or a face. Or so people speculate, but there’s never any proof. The only ones who know what the Unseen looks like are the Unseen.”
“A little on the nose, don’t you think?” I grouse, miffed that no one told me they already had a cool name.
“Markus says whenever there’s an open slot in the group—which is rare—the prospect goes through a lengthy screening and audition process—this can last up to six months—before meeting the man with the final word. Once that man allows the prospect to see his face, it means he’s in.”
Okay. All that jibes with what Collin already told me. “And who is this mysterious leader?” I ask.
“Jaxon King.”
Well. Mel actually knows his last name. King. A small detail he’s never deigned to tell me. Not that his name matters. Even if it is annoyingly appropriate.
“At age thirteen,” Mel went on, “Jaxon King was a homeless con. At fourteen, he was counting cards at tables and winning hundreds of thousands. A millionaire by the time he was sixteen. Did a few years in prison on bond forgery, art theft, racketeering, and counterfeit from age seventeen to nineteen. Lost everything. He got picked up two years later by a woman who takes baths with money. Ever since then, he’s been off the radar. Or, so he’s led everyone to believe.”
“Gee,” I whisper as I process her rapid-fire rundown. “Who was the woman?”
“Markus refused to divulge that. Which tells me she’s someone important.”
I scratch my nose. “Still. If the Unseen are unknown, how does he know who they are?”
Melanie gives me a look. “Markus knows because it’s his job to know.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Tim, focus,” she says. “About our task. The Unseen have something Markus wants, and he wants us to steal it for him.”
Um. Okay. Exciting words. “What is it?”
Her voice dips even lower. “The music box.”
“Wait. What? Why?” Then my eyes bug. “You didn’t tell him I have the key, did you? Mel, I swear, if you did—”
“Oh, calm down,” she says, waving her hands to halt my tirade. “That’s our winning chip. Why would I give it away? I don’t think he knows Jaxon doesn’t have the key. But even if he does know, he’s probably convinced he can open it.”
I worry my lip. “What do we get in return?”
A rare excited grin splits Melanie’s face. “He’ll buy the RGT77 Security idea we pitched him so long ago. He said the idea was approved months ago, but he was keeping us under further surveillance before making the offer. If we get him the music box, that solidifies the deal.”
“Whoa,” I whisper. “I can’t believe RGT77 was approved.”
RGT77 is a special, top-secret intelligent security system that took me over a year to develop. An idea too advanced and impenetrable to sell to any old company—or country—so we pitched it to Markus.
“What’s hard to believe?” Mel asks. “Did you doubt your hard work?”
RGT77 is all me. Melanie’s not quite the developer I am, but we’re a team, so we sell ourselves as such. There’s no “I,” just us. Double, or nothing.
“No.” I shake my head. “I just… Okay, yes. I did doubt. I knew it was gold but… Wow. It’s happening.”
“Well, not quite yet.” She bursts my bubble. “We need to find where Jaxon is keeping the music box—”
A loud bang at the door rattles through our whispers. “What’re you two doing in there? Why’s the shower running? I thought you were trying on clothes.”
Shooting a quick glance at the door, Melanie hurries to say, “How about we convince Jaxon to let one of us try out for the team, as ludicrous as that sounds? I’ve been watching Jo, and she seems to be struggling with the security overhaul. We can attempt to show her up when Jaxon is around. Hopefully that’ll score us some points and he’ll agree.”
I look at her doubtfully. “Which one of us wants to join?”
“Truth is, I’m better in the field. But you might have a better chance, since they seem to tolerate you more than they do me. I could just be the overbearing shadow that everyone wants to punch.”
More worrying of my lip as I mull this over.
The doorknob rattles. “Open this goddamn door!”
What Melanie said is true. She is better in the field than I am. She’s the talker, the doer, the one without fear. She can get anyone to do anything. I’m better at developing, hacking, coding. While they do seem to tolerate me more, she is better at acting. Also, she doesn’t have a burning lust for Jaxon, so she has less chance of botching it than I do.
“Timber,” Melanie prompts.
“You do it,” I say. “Jaxon’s stare-downs intimidate me. I’m more likely to break. You won’t. I’ll just continue to be, well, me. A chatty nuisance.”
More rattling and orders from Kavon are shouted from the other side of the door.
“Maybe I can try to get, um, close to him,” I suggest, struggling not to blush. “See what I can get out of him. Um, you know, like, clues to where he’s keeping the box.”
Melanie’s forehead crinkles as she gives me a skeptical look. If she didn’t know before that I’m hot for Jaxon, she sure as shite knows now.
“Ri-ight,” she replies, dragging out the word with a suspicious drawl. Nevertheless, she doesn’t call me out on it but claps her hands together as she stands. “Let’s do this. And pray to heaven we don’t get caught.”
I open my mouth to give voice to a sudden stab of uncertainty…mixed with a trickle of actual fear. However, she is already across the room and swinging open the bathroom door.
But the question looms large in my mind.
Damn. What happens if we get caught?