Free Nemesis Unlimited [1] Sweet Revenge by Zoe Archer Page A

had died some time shortly after Edith’s birth. They had grown up in East London. At an unknown point, Edith had become a prostitute, Dalton a thief and then a bare-knuckle boxer in underground fights before finally being hired as a bodyguard by Rockley. Whether the siblings were close wasn’t covered in the report. Edith meant enough to her brother to warrant attempted murder.
    Or maybe Dalton dreamt of someone else. A sweetheart, perhaps. He hadn’t said anything about a woman waiting for him, but that possibility couldn’t be ruled out. A man like Dalton wouldn’t want for female company. He’d be irresistible to any woman with a taste for danger. Almost every woman craved a dangerous man.
    Not me. I’ve enough of it in my work. Don’t need it in my lovers.
    Yet she watched him sleep, watched the softening of his face, and how, when he wasn’t scowling or cursing, his mouth verged on sybaritic.
    A sharp jab in her side pulled her attention away from Dalton. Simon frowned at her.
    “Be on your guard,” he whispered, throwing a significant glance toward Dalton.
    “I’m always careful,” she whispered back.
    “There’s a first time for everything.”
    She made a hand gesture learned on the London docks. Yet the warning was a good one. If this mission failed, everyone in Nemesis would wind up either in prison or dead. The stakes were far too high to rely on something as fallible and easily fooled as the human heart.

 
    CHAPTER FOUR
    He didn’t trust anyone, least of all her. Jack watched Eva’s face as the train slowed, looking for any hint of what she might be thinking. She kept her expression so damn cool, though. She could be planning his murder or an afternoon tea. Either was a possibility. Her gaze stayed on the windows as the platform at King’s Cross Station slid into view. She and the two blokes kept themselves alert, wary. Jack did the same.
    The bits of sleep he’d had on the ride had revived him. He no longer felt like his eyes were full of sand. So he stopped looking at Eva and stared out the window, too. Despite the lateness of the hour, people milled on the platform, waiting for the train. No gang of coppers there to arrest him. He stayed cagey. The police could be lying in wait. If they thought he’d go down without a fight, they’d soon learn their mistake.
    “Keep yourself easy.” Eva reached across the compartment and laid her hand atop his, startling him. Her fingers tried to pry his fist open. They couldn’t. “Act like an escaped convict, and that’s precisely what everyone will see.”
    “Think I don’t know that?” he growled back. But he relaxed his hands. He felt a stab of disappointment when she took her hand away and smoothed it down the front of her skirts, as if to wipe away the feel of his skin.
    The train stopped with a hiss. Marco, Simon, and Eva stood. Drawing a breath, Jack stood, as well. Simon moved out into the passageway and opened the door. He glanced up and down the platform, illuminated by hundreds of gaslights.
    “We’re clear.” Simon placed his hand on his pocket and stared at Jack. “Make a break for it, and I’ll unload my gun into your back.”
    “Keep threatening me,” Jack answered, “and I’ll feed you your goddamn gun through your arse.”
    Scowling, Eva stepped between them. “The both of you, enough chest-beating. Our cab’s waiting.” She shouldered past Simon and stepped out onto the platform. Jack followed, giving Simon a glare and an extra shove with his arm as he moved past the blond toff. Jack had to give the bloke some credit, though. He didn’t move an inch when Jack shoved him, and Jack hadn’t been gentle. Strong, that one. Couldn’t trust a man like that.
    The clock in the station declared it to be half past two in the morning. Only a few dozen people moved around the platform instead of the usual mobs waiting for trains to take them north. He’d been to King’s Cross a dozen times, maybe more. Even so, he hadn’t