Planet Heist (The Dunham Archives Book 1) by J.D. Hale Read Free Book Online Page A

was sitting at our table, sulking and drinking my martini. I couldn’t talk about the Xeron now, after I had agreed to give it up.
    Hopefully, we’d find a way to trick him into sending it back to us.
    “Okay, come with me.” Mahar commanded, standing up.
    This seems to be a pattern among criminals – this leaving public places almost as soon as arriving.
    Walking out of the gated courtyard, I noticed something particularly…unsettling. At first, I only saw the bright flashes. Then, I noticed the people milling about, wearing black and sporting cameras.
    Paparazzi. Ugh.
    I couldn’t help but find it funny that paparazzi simply question and follow me, but don’t call the cops.
    “Follow me!” I shouted, taking off my shoes; I’d run faster without them. The stone road was hot under my feet as I started off towards the nearest building – a four floor stone affair with one widow cut out of the top.
    “Kairee! Is it true you’re planning a big scam for your three-hundredth crime?!”
    “Kairee! What are you going to steal?! How big are we talking?!”
    “Rowan! Rowan! Is it true you and Salah are fighting for the affection of your sister?!”
    “Salah! Is there a romance between you and Kairee yet?!”             
    Idiots, the lot of them.
    The questions were ridiculous, but one stopped me in my tracks.
    “Kairee! A source tells us you’re stealing the Xeron! Is that true?!”
    I turned around, grabbed the reporter who said that and pressed my knife to her throat.
    “All of you get out of here or I’ll slit your throats!” I screamed, glaring at each one in turn. One of the reporter’s fingers twitched over the photo button, and a flash set off. I took immediate action and whipped around to plunge my knife into his heart while still holding back the woman.
    The rest of them looked petrified and fled the scene, towards the restaurant we were just at. I suspected they would link the dead waiter to me –  obviously – and twist out some deranged story about how I was yelling death threats at them. They would warp it into how I was on a crazy killing spree, rampaging through a terrified Egypt.
    “You’re coming with us,” I told the trembling reporter in my grip, continuing on up the stairs of the building. There were four flights of steps to the top, and I dragged the girl all the way, and at the top I handed her off to my brother. He restrained her struggling frame. She was small – maybe 5’4 at the most – with a frail frame, much like mine but with no muscles. Her hair was long and silky auburn, and she had twinkling, spring green eyes that held flecks of black and hazel.
    The room we entered was large and made completely of stone. There was a skylight cut out of the thick rock ceiling, and another hole in the wall to my right. The stone walls were a faded yellow color, looking sandblasted and rocky. The floor, on the other hand, was a dark, flat slate that clicked when I walked across.
    “Rowan, let her go. Know this, reporter, if you even try to escape, I won’t have a single aversion with hurting you, or worse. You obviously know who I am, and I think I have a right to know the same about you.” I told her with malice in my voice.
    “I-it’s uh…A-Adena Ognian. Please don’t hurt me,” She began crying. It was pitiful.
    “Shut up ,” I sighed, annoyed, “I won’t hurt you unless you do something stupid. Rowan!” I snapped, “Didn’t I tell you to let her go?!”
    He dropped her and she almost plummeted to the ground in fear. She sat down instead of getting up, rocking back and forth nervously.
    Am I that intimidating? Good.
    “Cooperate with me, all right? Then I can let you go.” I told her softly, and she nodded her head willingly.
    “All right, Adena. Now, I need to ask who told you we were stealing the Xeron. Who was it?” I demanded.
    “My boss.” She cried plainly, tears streaming down her face.
    “Who’s your boss?” I inquired coldly.
    “A woman