Persona Read Online Free Page A

hands along the table.
    He’d dropped his gaze to her fingers, taken a second too long to answer. Later, she’d wonder if this was the moment she began to think about the contract—the moment he’d been caught off guard, and had considered it quietly without pushing back. It was unexpected; it was promising.
    She’d left before he could get restless. (If the Americans had arranged the hit, that would probably answer the question of dating Ethan.)
    But Ethan asked empty questions because he had nothing else to say. This one was asking empty questions to distract her.
    Thieves, the people who skim across things that way; thieves and people who are lying to you. Fair enough. It wasn’t as though any of this had been a humanitarian gesture, and there was no future in it. Even as he’d yanked her out of the line of fire, he had the face of someone who regretted it. This one was out for himself.
    She understood. She could handle that.
    They were nearly at Foyatier now—she recognized the neighborhood from the pictures in her IA dossier. Almost there, she thought, as if it were home.
    She took a breath, counted her pulse, and set about planning the best way to lose him.
    A few blocks later he turned them abruptly down a side street—what had he seen? No way anyone could have followed them through this labyrinth in dusk—and she pivoted on her bad leg, grinding her foot into the ground for balance.
    There was a burst of pain; her vision clouded. She moved faster, so he couldn’t tell anything was wrong.
    â€œWe’re almost there,” he said. “There were just police that way. We’re going up the next street.”
    Good. The last thing she could afford was to be seen by police. They’d send her back to Magnus.
    She didn’t know where Magnus was when the first shot came—those memories were muddled. But by the time she was scrambling from the gunfire, she’d seen the little square. Magnus had vanished. No use, trusting some.
    Ã—  ×  ×  ×  ×  ×  ×
    It was almost too dark to read by the time they finally reached the stairs.
    â€œYou’re not going to actually try to climb them, are you?”
    She’d take it as a compliment that he thought she still could. “Hang on,” she said. “My ankle.”
    He glanced down and shifted his grip on her shoulders (pain lanced down her arm), but she ignored it and scanned the flat cobbles that framed the stairs until she had what she needed. It was white chalk, hard to see if you weren’t looking, and she’d have been in trouble if it rained.
    â€œI don’t see your friends.” He was setting her down on a bench, more gently than she would have expected.
    â€œThey’ll be here,” she said. “Thank you so much for everything. I need to pay you before you go. Except—I can’t reach, sorry.” She ducked her head. “You’ll have to do it.”
    She watched his feet. He shifted his weight, moving forward and pulling back. There was a pause that was longer than it should have been. Then his fingers brushed against her neck, and the necklace swung free.
    It was a relief; she didn’t realize how heavy it had been. When she looked up, she caught a strange expression on his face. She was reminded, just for a second, of Magnus as he’d pushed the last stone along her collarbone so she’d look presentable when she met the Americans.
    â€œWell.” He frowned at the necklace, slid it into his pocket. “I can’t just go. I wouldn’t feel right leaving you. For a tip like this, you should get full service.” He gave her a smile like when he’d bullshitted her about what he’d heard in the alley, some old chestnut he knew would work.
    He couldn’t be serious. Who wouldn’t take a prize like that and run? Someone who wasn’t in it for the money, she thought, and her