Three Fates

wanted.
    She could hear his breath going ragged, feel the tension in his muscles as she touched and tasted, teased and tortured. All the while she felt so fluid, so agile. So . . . potent.
    When he gasped out her name, she rose over him, then leaned down to pleasure them both with a deep and drugging kiss.
    “No one ever wanted me like this, or made me want, like this.”
    A sound, almost a purr, rippled in her throat as she lowered, took him inside her. When his hands came to her hips, fingers digging in, she shuddered.
    She rocked, moaning when the pressure built inside her, then rolled through her in a glorious rising swell that gushed heat and light and need. She took him, took herself, slowly, savoring each ripple of pleasure.
    When their eyes met, she smiled and, smiling, watched his go blind. On a long sigh of triumph, she let her head fall back, let her body rule, and slid silkily under.

PART THREE
    Cutting
    We are spinning our own
fates, good or evil, and
never to be undone.
Every smallest stroke of
virtue or of vice leaves its
never so little scar.
    WILLIAM JAMES

Twenty-one
     
     
     
     
    “T HAT’shim.” Cleo stared at the photocopy image. “He was one of the guys in Prague. The shorter one,” she said, glancing up at Gideon for confirmation. “The second guy was taller, broader, and he came after us on foot while this guy went for their car. The bigger guy was the one who I spotted tailing me after I met with Anita.”
    She took a deep breath to relieve the pressure in her chest as she studied the bland black-and-white photo. “This is the one who must’ve gone after Mikey. This is the one who killed him.”
    Gideon laid a hand on her shoulder, left it there in a light, comforting weight. “We got a pretty good look at them in Prague.”
    “We’ll have Bob run his known associates, see if we get a line on the second man.” Jack took the photo, pinned it to a board he’d set up.
    They were in his building, on what he thought of as the business level. “His name’s Carl Dubrowsky. Most of his accomplishments run to assault and larceny. Hired muscle, low on brains. He was found in an empty warehouse in New Jersey, the unhappy recipient of four twenty-five-caliber bullets.”
    “Do you think his partner killed him?” Tia asked.
    “Not with a twenty-five. A guy carries a gun like that, he’s going to get laughed out of the KneeCappers Union.”
    “Anita.” Malachi walked over to the board. Jack had a photo of Anita pinned there as well. “She wouldn’t have been pleased he stirred up the air by killing Cleo’s friend and getting nothing out of it. I didn’t realize until now that I believed her capable of murder—by her own hand. But, of course, she is, isn’t she?”
    “I’d say.” The man was cool, Jack decided as he studied Malachi. And steady. Someone he could work with. “The warehouse had just been sold by Morningside. My friend on the force will be having a talk with Anita shortly. What do you think her reaction will be to that?”
    “It’ll piss her off,” Malachi said, then dipped his hands in his pockets and rocked lightly on his heels. “Then it’ll please her. Add a bit of spice to the game. She’d never believe herself vulnerable.”
    “It stops being a game when people die.” Rebecca waited until her brother looked at her. “Cleo’s lost a friend, and the man responsible for that is dead as well. Are any of us here willing to go that far, willing to kill over a few pounds of silver?”
    “That’s not what it’s about, Becca.” Gideon left his hand on Cleo’s shoulder. “It’s long since gone beyond being about the value of the thing.”
    “For you,” she agreed. “For Mal. For you, Cleo?” she asked.
    “I want her to pay. I want her to lose. I want her to hurt.”
    Rebecca crouched in front of Cleo’s chair, stared hard into her eyes. “How far will you go for it?”
    “He was a sweet, harmless man. I loved him. How far will I go? All the way.”
    Rebecca let out a breath and got to her feet, turned to Tia. “And you? You’ve been scooped up into this thing, had your life tumbled around. If we move forward from here, there’s no going back. But you could walk away now and pick up your life as it was before we charged into it.”
    Could she? Tia wondered. Could she go back to tiptoeing through her life, afraid someone might notice her? Could she bury herself again in the deeds of gods and never have the courage to do? To be?
    Oh,