The Rule of Luck by Catherine Cerveny Read Free Book Online Page B

ransom in bribes.”
    He’d bribed the prison hooahs? Was that even possible? Now was clearly not the best time to ask, and to be honest, my mind was refusing to process any more information, but I couldn’t help myself.
    “Not that I’m ungrateful, but why are you here? How did you even know?”
    “I’ve had my eye on a few dodgy connections. I believe you were entangled with one of them. I felt I owed you a bit of help.”
    Mr. Pennyworth! It made an odd kind of sense. Bad guys all know each other, right? Petriv must have learned what had happened and bailed me out because of the Tarot card reading. It was the only thing connecting us.
    “You were lucky you weren’t killed during the bomb blast. Others were. It made the tri-system news. One Gov wants someone to pin this on,” he continued, blue eyes meeting mine.
    I blanched and felt the world swim around me. I had to reach out and grab the side of the flight-limo to keep from fainting.
    “I convinced them you weren’t the party they were looking for.”
    “I had nothing to do with it,” I whispered.
    “I know, although it took some persuasive negotiation to convince them to overlook the smart-matter.”
    Again I cursed Pennyworth. Had he known it would give us away? I filed the thought to puzzle over later.
    “I appreciate that,” I said with all the sincerity I could muster. “I’ll pay you back somehow. I…I can return your payment for the card reading. It was too much anyway.”
    “Keep it.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Your services were worth every gold note. I’d be willing to pay that and more for future readings. But if you would kindly step inside, I’d like to get out of here and discuss another arrangement with you.”
    My gut twisted. I’m surprised I didn’t throw up. The feelings I’d had at my shop were nothing compared to this. My gut wanted me to jump into the limo, his lap, whatever he wanted.
    “What kind of arrangement?”
    “I have a business proposition concerning someone in whom we share a mutual interest.”
    I swore under my breath, though I’m sure he heard. Was this the slippery slope to organized crime? I owed him now.
    “Who is it?”
    “Monique Vaillancourt.”
    I blinked first, thrown. “She’s dead.”
    “You’re certain of that?”
    “I have documentation proving it.”
    “All forgeries. Ms. Vaillancourt is very much alive. Get in. We’ll discuss it over lunch.”
    The way he said it made me shiver, and not in a good way. “But she can’t be alive. If she was, she would never…You’re lying.”
    “Hardly. I rarely lie to beautiful women.”
    That jolted me. I rolled my eyes. He may have bribed me out of jail, but he could shove flattery up his ass. “I call bullshit on that one. I look like crap right now.”
    He laughed. “Get in, Ms. Sevigny. This is business—nothing more. I’ve helped you out of your situation. Now, I would like your help in exchange. Should you say no after hearing my proposal, our paths will never cross again.”
    “Monique Vaillancourt is dead. No one can help you.”
    He merely looked at me, serious now. Under the weight of that gaze, I faltered, afraid. Afraid of what he knew, what I didn’t, and what it all meant.
    “Please get in, Ms. Sevigny. Time is passing.”
    So I got in the flight-limo. What else could I do? After all, Monique Vaillancourt was my mother.

Chapter Four
    Having never been in a flight-limo before, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Queasiness—yes. Maybe some vertigo. But they had to be safe, considering the rich and famous zoomed everywhere in them. Those same rich and famous were also the only ones who could afford them—the lunar refined HE-3 jet fuel that powered flight-limos cost a small fortune. I slid in and took the cool leather seat facing Petriv rather than the one beside him. A moment later, we were off and I felt all the discomfort I could have wished for. However, it had little to do with seeing the streets rush by through the