The Gambit with Perfection (The Phantom of the Earth Book 2) by Raeden Zen Page B

Some of the maidens peeked into the gallery, but when Isabelle scowled they whipped their colorful, curly hair and pranced back onto the terrace. “Who do you think he wants to bleed?”
    “Resolve, moderation, and persistence. These are virtues of the gods and have held Beimeni steady for the centuries of my rule. Jeremiah’s musings mean nothing.”
    “You should let me kill him. It would set the proper example.”
    “Your lack of foresight troubles me, Isabelle.” Atticus grabbed a carafe and splashed the cabernet sauvignon into his glass, spilling much of it. “Now tell me, finally, to what do I really owe the pleasure of your company this evening? I didn’t summon you. Have you come for business, pleasure? Both, perhaps?” He eyed the bosom of her dress and licked his lower lip.
    She wanted to cut his tongue out but restrained her urge. “Antosha will deliver the BP to us—”
    Atticus sulked. “Ah yes, of course.” He leaned forward and set his elbows on the table. “My lady, how many times must I urge patience on this topic? Our expert on Vigna will be transferred here in due time. To do so just now, with the Barão Strike Team about to launch, would be a bit awkward, don’t you think?”
    Isabelle slouched in the chair and put her heels upon the table’s edge. “I don’t see why.”
    “Because Antosha’s more … creative uses of the zeropoint field were conducted in the name of understanding the Lorum, and we’ve lost contact with the Lorum.” Atticus leaned forward. “I hate for my people to fear for their lives.”
    “Then I guess you won’t be interested in my latest lead.” She observed one of her larger rings, radiant between her fingers. It was constructed by rare bacteria in the RDD, costing more than some buildings in Underground Central.
    “Who, or what, pray tell, is your latest dead end?” More food escaped Atticus’s mouth.
    “I’m closing in on the BP stronghold.”
    “And tomorrow I’ll start shitting benari coins.”
    Isabelle pulled her heels from the table, setting them on the ground. She bit into another strawberry. “Then you best prepare for a long morning, Atticus. Marstone doesn’t lie.” She transferred the neural histories of commonwealth double agents to him directly through the ZPF. She could tell by the way he looked at her he wanted her, right here, right now, on this table, as they’d done countless times before. But she was in no mood. He’d sleep unfulfilled tonight, at least by her lips and thighs.
    “This is a big year for the commonwealth,” Atticus said. He counted on his forefingers. “We have the Mission to Vigna, we have the Bicentennial in Hammerton Hall, we have the Autumn Gala in Luxor City, we have—”
    “I understand,” Isabelle said. “The Janzers are prepared—”
    “And you can’t even capture the undeveloped whelp …”
    Lieutenant Arnao had debriefed them about Cornelius Selendia’s alleged whereabouts in Ope Territory. Isabelle was confident the whelp would soon be back in custody. She hoped to use him during her next interrogation of Jeremiah; her illusions didn’t work as well with him as they did on Hans.
    Atticus massaged Isabelle’s hand. “… perhaps you should go yourself to find Cornelius. He survived the fever. He might one day become as skilled as his father with the zeropoint field. What then?”
    She snatched her fingers from him. “You should’ve thought of that before you forced me to keep them in the DOP. I was prepared to send them to the prison! Instead, Hans broke into Marstone’s Database, and only the gods know what he stole from us.”
    Atticus wiped his mouth. He hid his emotions from her, but she didn’t need telepathy to see the fear in his eyes. “What’s your next move?”
    “My search through tunnels in Piscator, intelligence reports, and mining of Marstone’s Database suggest a BP convergence on the Block.” Isabelle had learned during an interrogation of Hans that an intricate