Twisted Pretty Things (Shadows of London #1)

by Ariana Nash

Murder weapons made typical artifacts and were more obvious to spot than the obscure items that slipped through the net. Like Kempthorne’s coin. This little coin had witnessed something horrific in its past. It had soaked up the shockwave, making it ripe pickings for latents. Little artifacts like this one were like illicit drugs to latents. We couldn’t resist them, even as they destroyed us.

Kempthorne’s lips twitched with a tiny hint of personality that had my tired, foolish heart tripping over a beat. The twitch was his version of what would have been a full-blown smile on anyone else. Was it wrong that I wanted to see that smile turn into a genuine grin?

I sounded like I had the balls to walk away, but he couldn’t hear my heart rattling behind my ribs. I needed this job. I needed the purpose. I needed Gina’s backup and Robin’s no-bullshit rules. The military had fucked me in all ways. If I didn’t have Kempthorne & Co, I was a ghost. I couldn’t go home. An authenticator in the East End? The gangs would’ve been all over me, and I knew me, I wouldn’t be able to resist all that temptation for long. It’d kill me. And probably others.

I ducked my head back inside and glared at the man who had just put my life on the line and used me for some bullshit secret case. He stared back, his face guarded, but his arctic-blue eyes blazed their fury. “The next time you want to fuck me over, the least you can do is prep me first.”

“At the dinner, you said something about money not making a man good. What was that all about?” Kempthorne’s real smile melted all the leftover ice in his glare. “I simply meant you’re worth more than any man there and you needn’t have felt uncomfortable.”

“First time getting shot?” I asked, hoping to see his smile again—the real one, not the fake one. “Yes,” he admitted, and there was that little upward tilt of the lips. I often forgot we were the same age behind all the flashy cars and classy suits, but his smile was real and reminded me we weren’t so very different. “If it makes you feel any better, that was my first time getting Tasered,” I added.

“Aren’t you tired of being used, John? Always someone else’s dog, never the master? Latents can be and do so much more. Don’t you think it’s time you had the same freedom as everyone else?” Her offer was a tempting one. It was a shame I didn’t believe a single word of it. If I’d learned anything in the military, it was that people in power rarely told the whole story. I had a good thing going with Kempthorne & Co. Today was my two-year anniversary. I wasn’t about to walk way from them because some top brass bird dangled a few tempting offers in front of me. Growing up in the East End had taught me if anything sounded too good to be true, then you were usually about to get your head kicked in.

Take it. The pretty, twisted thing. Take it and own it and use it and light up London forever. Burn it all away. Cauterize a million wounds.