Heist Society

There was, after all, something to be said for sleeping in the same bed every night and always knowing the way to and from the bathroom in the dark. She’d absolutely adored the library—an entire building where anyone could take things they didn’t own and feel no remorse about it. But the thing Kat had loved most about Colgan—the thing she missed most as she sat beside Hale and Gabrielle on a train bound for Vienna—was that one of the most strenuous prep schools in the world was the only place Kat had ever been where it was okay not to think.

After all, on her very first day at Colgan she’d been given a piece of paper that told her what classes she would attend and at what times. There was a board in the main hall that announced what meals she would eat and what sporting events she could witness. Each week her teachers dutifully told her which chapters she should read and from which books, which projects she should perform and in what order.

It was exactly as she’d suspected ever since the night Uncle Vinnie (who wasn’t really her uncle) had pulled her out of Uncle Eddie’s kitchen and informed her that boarding school would be a lot like prison (which, ironically, was exactly where Vinnie had been before showing up on Uncle Eddie’s front stoop that very night).

Kat had listened to him with a clarity that suited Uncle Eddie’s great-niece. She didn’t let it scare her. She just analyzed all the angles and came to the conclusion that Uncle Vinnie was exactly right, and she essentially had two options: Colgan now or jail later.

Colgan had cuter uniforms.

But now autumn was over and Colgan was gone; Kat was left to stare out the train window at the snowy caps of the Alps. In her coat pocket she had three passports and one of Hale’s credit cards. She was very good with four languages and decent at two more. She could go anywhere. She could do anything. Maybe it was the altitude, but suddenly Kat felt herself growing dizzy—short on air and smothered by the infinite possibilities that lay before her, and the questions her mind couldn’t help but ask.

Like, how was it possible for Gabrielle to be even prettier when she slept, when Kat herself could rarely wake up without encountering at least a little bit of drool?

And why did Gabrielle insist on sleeping with her head on Hale’s shoulder, when Kat—who had hit him there on a number of occasions—knew for a fact that it was quite hard and the compartment above the seats contained an assortment of very soft pillows?

Kat tried not to think about the other things—the hard questions that were locked outside, racing the train. She wished she could outrun them, lose them like a tail. But Kat knew better. They’d be waiting for her in Austria.

Kat’s ears popped as the train went faster, climbed higher, and the thoughts that had been swirling in her mind narrowed to one person, one place.

Visily Romani.

Vienna, Austria.

And with that, Kat closed her eyes. She didn’t see the first flakes of snow fall outside her window. She didn’t feel Hale cover her with a blanket. She was already fast asleep.

9 Days Until Deadline

Chapter 12

The one thought that Kat hadn’t had on the train was the first one that torpedoed her mind as soon as they reached the station the next morning: sometimes it’s nice being partnered with a billionaire.

“Did you have a nice trip, miss?” Marcus asked, appearing from thin air on the crowded platform. Their bags were already on the cart in front of him. When they stepped outside, Kat was struck by the frigid air, but thankfully a car was already waiting.

The winter’s first snow had been plowed neatly to the side of the roads, and the sidewalks were covered with tourists and townspeople going about their day. Kat watched through her window and thought: Visily Romani could be here.

Visily Romani could be anywhere.

Visily Romani could be anyone.

No one spoke on the car ride or said a word as they walked through the hotel lobby. Kat had the vague realization that it was nice reaching a penthouse via an elevator and not a ventilation duct, and as the car rose, she closed her eyes. She might have been content to stand like that all day. All week. All year. But too soon the doors were sliding open.

And Kat was listening to a deep voice say, “Hello, Katarina.”

Kat had heard of the presidential suite at Das Palace Hotel in Vienna, of course. Every self-respecting thief was aware that this room was traditionally used for hosting kings and princes, presidents and CEOs. But for all its history, the most intimidating thing about the room right then was the sight of Uncle Eddie, standing beside a roaring fire.

“Welcome to Vienna.”

When Uncle Eddie held out his arms, Gabrielle rushed into them, gushing at him in rapid Russian. No one translated for Hale, but he understood the exchange. Four days ago, Kat had walked back into her uncle’s home and his graces, but anyone could see that Gabrielle, who had spent the last six months using cle**age and quick hands to pick some of the plusher pockets on the Riviera, had never really left the family kitchen.

“Your mother?” Uncle Eddie asked, holding Gabrielle at arm’s length.

“Engaged,” Gabrielle said with a sigh.

Uncle Eddie nodded as if he’d heard it all before. “He has art?”

“Jewels,” Gabrielle said. “Family stuff. He’s a count.”

“Or a duke,” Hale chimed in.

“I get them confused,” Gabrielle confessed.

“Who doesn’t?” Uncle Eddie admitted with a shrug, still holding her and beaming. “It’s good to see you, little one.” He scanned her short skirt. “I only wish I were not seeing quite so much of you.”