Full Color (ORCA #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

QUIN

“Quin, we found the painting. You need to get to Amsterdam.” Cal’s words rang in my ears as I tried to get my thoughts together. He’d found The Evolution of Man , which meant only one question remained.

“Is it the original or a forgery?”

My twin huffed on the other end of the line. “I have no fucking clue. That’s why you need to get to Amsterdam, like now.”

Even from half a world away and with the weird static in our twin bond, I could sense there was something important Cal wasn’t telling me, but without being able to see him and read his expression, there was no easy way to ferret it out. Which was immensely frustrating.

But that was Cal—the walking embodiment of immense frustration.

And now he was asking me to walk into a situation blind, which was honestly much more his thing than it had ever been mine.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sat in the unoccupied leather club chair in front of the unlit fireplace in my study. Our older brother, Nero, sat in the other club chair, a snifter of my favorite cognac clutched in his hand. The delicate glass looked ridiculous in his huge paw, but he’d taken a liking to the top-shelf spirits I preferred after I’d generously shared some of my coveted Pappy Van Winkle as a way to calm him down after his mate, Felix, had been kidnapped. Nero had been systematically sampling his way through my extensive collection of exclusive and expensive single-barrel bourbons, whiskeys, and cognacs since. To say I’d created a monster was an understatement.

“What’s going on?” He gestured at the phone, and I pulled it away from my ear, hitting the speaker button and setting it on the small, antique mahogany table between us.

Cal’s voice filled the space. “Why am I on speaker?”

I sighed, but I didn’t think he could hear it. “Nero’s here. It makes sense for you to tell both of us what’s going on.”

“Hi, Cal.” It had been my twin’s fault Felix had been kidnapped, and while Nero had forgiven him, mostly, there was still a little tension there.

“Uh, hey. Everything good?” To my ears, Cal’s voice lacked some of its usual bravado, but Nero didn’t seem to notice.

Nero nodded. “Business as usual here. What’s happening there?”

“Jack and I found the painting, but we can’t tell if it’s a fake. We need Quin here ASAP.”

“Who has it?” Nero took a small drink from his snifter, and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. My older brother had taken my request to sip the expensive spirits instead of chugging them like a Neanderthal seriously. I might be able to make a gentleman out of him after all.

“Stefan Dasselaar. He’s hosting a gala next week. From what we could find out, it looks like he’s planning to auction off multiple stolen art pieces, and he’s been teasing something big. We found out tonight that it’s the painting.”

Nero set the snifter down and rubbed his hands together. “What are you thinking?”

“I think we need to be holding more of the cards.”

A wash of anticipation that wasn’t mine pulsed through my body. My twin bond with Cal had been shaky for a while, more so since he’d found and claimed his fated mate in his former rival, great white shark shifter, Jack Grayson, but the odd giddiness I felt from his end of our bond meant only one thing.

“You think we should steal the painting before Dasselaar can auction it to the highest bidder.”

Nero’s eyebrow rose as Cal confirmed. “Bingo. Got it in one, Quinny.”

I rolled my eyes at his use of the annoying nickname, but I didn’t understand what having the painting would do for us except paint a bigger target on our backs. “I know I’m not the art thief”—I nodded at Nero—“or the field operative here, but why do we want the painting? Doesn’t the fact that Dasselaar has it prove he’s behind Felix’s kidnapping and the threats on his life?”

My older brother picked up the little snifter again and rolled it between his large palms, his face twisted up in thought. It was a long moment before he spoke again. “No. If Dasselaar had the painting, or at least knew where it was so he could have a crew steal it, he would have had no reason to go after Felix or the FBI file Felix hacked. Whoever is after the information Felix has is looking for leads on who has the painting because they don’t know.”

“But have they figured out Dasselaar has it?” Cal’s question hung in the air.

Nero shook his head. “I think we have to assume if we figured it out, someone else has too, or they will after the gala, which means we need to assume someone else is going to try to make a play for the painting.”

“According to Reuben, there are too many people on that list, but my money is on anyone who has a vested interest in the painting being at Dasselaar’s gala if for no other reason than to find out if the big score Dasselaar is teasing is The Evolution of Man .” That was Jack’s voice.

“Hey, Jack.” Nero leaned toward the phone.

“Hey. I’m on the other line with Reuben, so I’ll be in and out.”

“Sounds good.”

Jack laughed without humor. “Maybe not. Feels like shit’s gotten real complicated.”

Cal grumbled something in the background, then the unmistakable sounds of kissing came over the line. I looked away from where the phone sat on the table like I was trying to give them privacy. I was happy for Cal and Jack. I really was. But my stomach still twisted with jealousy over what they had that I had yet to find.

Picking up the snifter of cognac I’d poured myself, I knocked it back in one gulp, the burn a pleasant distraction from the hollow feeling in my chest. Nero raised an eyebrow in my direction, but I shook my head, standing to pour myself more.

“Can we get back to this please?” Nero asked, and clothes rustled from Jack and Cal’s end of the line.”

“Uh, sorry. Newly mated. You know how it is.” Cal sounded unrepentant, and Nero’s smirk said he did, in fact, understand.

I wished I did.

“We need a way into that gala.” Nero drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “Any chance Reuben can work some magic?”

I didn’t hear Jack’s reply as I moved behind my desk and started sifting through the papers I had there, looking for the blood-red envelope I’d come across a few days ago. It peeked out from a stack of inventory and sales reports, and I yanked it out of the pile. Cal, Jack, and Nero continued to talk while I slid the single sheet of heavy cream cardstock out of the envelope addressed to our grandmother and scanned the gold-embossed text.

“We technically have an invitation, as in we have one in our possession.” I held up the invitation and crossed the room, returning to where Nero was still seated, now staring at me.

“What do you mean?” Nero asked. I’d forgotten I’d told everyone else, including Cal and Jack, about the invitation our grandmother had received at my gallery, but I hadn’t mentioned it to Nero. Lowering into my previously vacated seat, I passed the sheet of expensive cardstock to Nero.

“Dasselaar invited Juno to the gala.”

“Bastard’s cocky as fuck.” Cal wasn’t wrong.

Nero sat back in his chair, the invitation held between two of his thick fingers as he studied it. “It’s definitely ballsy as hell to invite a thief known to want the painting to the gala where you’re allegedly going to auction it off. I think we need to proceed with caution. Dasselaar is clearly working some sort of angle. If he invited Juno, I think we’re correct in assuming he invited anyone and everyone he can think of who has a vested interest in the painting.”

Swirling the new measure of cognac in my glass, I nodded. “I agree. It makes the most sense in terms of maximizing his profit on the piece. If he puts it up for auction to bidders who’ve spent their lives attempting to steal it against bidders who have ridiculous sums of money to play with, it’s going to drive the bidding through the roof and net Dasselaar a mountain of money. That’s just good business. It’s exactly what I would do. Plus, it’s obviously a giant middle finger to everyone who couldn’t manage to steal it. Juno included.”

Nero smiled at me, a glimmer of something that looked remarkably like pride in his eyes before he turned his attention back to the phone. “If it’s the real painting. Even if it’s not, once word gets out that Dasselaar has the painting, thieves are going to come crawling out of the woodwork. He’s got to know that, so his security is going to be tighter than tight.”

Cal and Jack had a conversation away from the phone before Cal’s voice came over the line again. “Jack was able to hack his computer at the gallery, including his encrypted emails, and it looks like he’s already planning to increase security at the gallery while the painting is there.”

“Keep an eye on his setup. We need to know as much as we can before we decide if it’s worth trying to steal it from Dasselaar or if we’re better off waiting until the painting changes hands.” Nero, who’d been absently tapping the invitation on the edge of the table, passed it back to me. “If the invitation was addressed to Juno, how are we going to get into the gala? Should I have Julius try to contact her again?”

“I have a plan for that too. Juno’s invitation is our backup plan, but I think we need to try to score our own invitation.”

Nero narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

“I have a contact in Amsterdam who does a lot of business in the US. His base of operations in the States is in San Francisco, but he’s looking to move stolen art up the coast and out through Vancouver. We’ve been trying to organize a meeting, but the timing has never worked out. When you asked Felix and Julius to dig up whatever they could find on Dasselaar, I learned my contact is one of Dasselaar’s associates.”

“So what’s your plan?” Jack asked.

“We all know the art world is a small one. I’m going to reach out and let my contact know I’ll be in Amsterdam. When I get the meeting, I’ll plant some seeds letting him know I’m interested in connecting with more European contacts, that I’m looking to expand my client list. I’ve worked hard to build a reputation that I’m incredibly selective in whom I choose to work with. If it comes out that I’m taking on new clients, there should be interest in helping to make those connections. Besides, Dasselaar already knows I’m connected to Juno since he sent her invitation to my gallery.”

“I like it.” Cal sounded impressed. “Nero, what do you think?”

Our older brother nodded. “I think it feels like a long shot, but I trust you, Quin. If you think you can get on this guest list by working your contacts, I’m willing to try it. What do you need from us?”

I shrugged. “Obviously, I need to get to Amsterdam. The sooner the better. I’ll reach out to my contact now and let him know I’m coming to him. Dasselaar’s gala is a big deal. There’s no way he won’t be in town for it.”

“So what do we do about Juno’s invitation?” Nero handed the paper back to me.

“I think we ignore it for now. Pretend we don’t know Dasselaar invited her.”

Jack made an approving noise. “Is it going to be too much of a coincidence if you show up in Amsterdam at the same time as Dasselaar’s gala when Juno’s invitation was sent to your gallery?”

Nero shrugged. “Would Dasselaar assume we’re going to open her mail? Wouldn’t Quin just pass it along to her?”

“I don’t know, but I think Quin’s right. We need to get our own invitation. Playing dumb about Juno’s invite works for now.” I could tell from his tone that Cal was working through the beginnings of our plan and trying to connect the dots. Unfortunately, we didn’t have enough information for the dots to form any sort of clear picture. But I had a gut feeling as soon as I got to Amsterdam, things would start to come together.

Nero leaned back in his chair. “I’ll call Hadrian and see if he’s got a way to get us to Amsterdam fast.”

“Reuben has a plane at Sea-Tac, but he doesn’t have a pilot.” Jack’s voice sounded like it was coming from far away from the phone. “If your cousin can fly it, Reuben says you’re welcome to use it.”

“Hade can fly it. I’ll make the call. Tell Reuben we’ll take him up on his offer.” Nero pushed out of his chair and slid his cell phone from his pocket.

“Good. Jack and I will keep an eye on things here. We’ll talk to Reuben about getting a bigger place that we can use as a base of operations. For now, we have a hotel suite. Meet us here unless we can get something together sooner. We’ll let you know.”

“I’ll get in touch with my contact.”

“Excellent. Rally the troops, since I assume Julius and Felix aren’t going to let you come to Amsterdam without them, and we’ll keep you posted.”

Nero nodded, and Cal and Jack disconnected the call. I looked down at the heavy cardstock in my hand. I hoped I hadn’t promised my brothers more than I could deliver. It was a new feeling for me to be part of their team, and I didn’t want to screw it up. Not that I thought I would.

Nero’s hand on my shoulder made me glance up. “You okay?”

Sliding into the persona I used when I sat across the table from the criminals on my client list, I gave my brother my best unaffected half smile. “I’m fine. Just trying to compute the time difference between here and Amsterdam. I want an answer about the meeting before we get on the plane.”

Nero smiled, the thrill of the hunt flashing in his eyes, and clapped me on the shoulder. “I’m going to go brief Julius and Felix and call Hade. Make sure you pack your tux.”

“Which one?”

My brother laughed. “You might be the only person I know who owns multiple tuxes. Might as well pack them all.”

When he was gone, the door to my study clicking shut behind him, I slid into my desk chair and pulled out my laptop. Julius had set it up so it was completely secure, and I pulled up the encrypted email program I used to correspond with my clients. Niels Zwart was a weasel shifter—appropriate given his line of work procuring and selling stolen goods. So far, I’d never met him, but he’d received my contact information via a recommendation from one of his colleagues. We’d tried to set up a meeting when he was in the States last spring, but he’d had to cancel his trip at the last minute, and I’d been unable to make it to Amsterdam at the time.

Funny how things worked out sometimes.

I reopened our email thread and told him I’d be in Amsterdam on business for the next several days and had some available time if he was free. Once the email was sent, I rocked back in my chair and closed my eyes.

I was damn good at running my gallery and selecting my clients. I’d had countless meetings with criminal kingpins from around the globe, but something about this meeting felt more important. Maybe it was because my brothers were counting on me, and I’d never been in that position before. Usually, I was an island, only working with Julius to make sure the payments for my services were received into the correct accounts.

But now I had a valuable role to play.

A role that would bring us one step closer to finding out who was behind the attempt on Felix’s life and his kidnapping. I knew in my gut that this was bigger than we thought. Someone was pulling the strings, and I hoped we wouldn’t get tangled up in them.

Maybe we already were.

Pushing away from my desk, I closed my laptop and tucked it under my arm. Time to pack.

My phone buzzed in my pocket before I was halfway up the stairs.

The meeting with Zwart was set.