would destroy a perfectly good diamond?”
“Or cubic zirconium,” Stirling reminded him.
“A perfectly good fake diamond!” Grace continued. He didn’t care if it was cubic zirconium or not. There was something very pure about gemstones, something that implied after the buffing, the polishing, the faceting, the gem has been made worthy of admiration. They were sort of static divas that way—they achieved a thing no human dancer could: long-term perfection.
“But why would they do that?” Julia murmured. “Stirling, have you sent the pictures?”
“Yeah. Done.” Stirling started putting away the equipment, and Hunter reached for his coat.
Grace had, inexplicably, curled his hands into the collar of the thing and was clutching it to his chest.
“Uhm, Grace—”
“It smells good,” Grace said, looking at him helplessly. He was at a loss. Even when he stole something, he usually had no problem relinquishing ownership. But this—this—felt very personal.
“I was going to hang it up, tho—”
“It’s warm,” Grace said, nodding repeatedly and clutching the coat tighter. It was heavy, like a weighted blanket. Was that why Grace found it so comforting?
Hunter blew out a breath and returned to his closet. He came back with a much-worn black hooded sweatshirt, washed so many times it had gone frayed a little at the wrists, and the fleece inside had worn thin. He leaned into Grace’s body and whispered in his ear.
“I haven’t washed this since I wore it last.”
Grace buried his face into the collar and inhaled.
Mm. Fabric softener instead of leather, but still warm. Still comfortable. Still full of manly man smell. Hunter’s smell.
Reluctantly Grace let go of Hunter’s coat. Hunter moved to hang it up, and Grace pulled the hoodie over his head without even bothering with the zipper. Hunter was at least two sizes bigger than he was in the arms and shoulders; it slid over Grace’s head easily, and he felt like he could breathe.
“Better?” Hunter asked.
Grace nodded, feeling pathetic but unable to find words. “Thank you,” he murmured. He rarely thanked people because most of the time he could take care of himself. But he couldn’t have stolen this much-laundered hoodie. It had to be given.
“Course.”
Hunter made space next to him and then sat at the edge of the bed. Grace pretended he didn’t feel Hunter’s body heat seeping through their clothing, but he definitely did. He may even have leaned into it a little. Maybe.
Julia glared at her phone for a moment, her body posture so intent they could all tell when she got a text—except it wasn’t a text.
The phone vibrated in her hand, and she hit Speaker.
“What is it?” she asked without preamble.
“It’s been inscribed with a laser,” Danny’s voice said, loud and clear. “It’s probably man-made, but I’ve seen it done very neatly on regular gems. There can be entire microchips worth of information inscribed in each facet of the gem. You set the gem, and all people can see are striations in the light. It’s very skillful work, and people do it on purpose just for gem design, but that’s not what this is.”
“How do you know?” Julia asked tensely, looking up at those left in the room.
“Because I know the people who do it. I even dated one of them for a time—”
“Are you kidding me?” Felix muttered, loud enough to be picked up by the phone.
“It was years ago, Felix. Never serious. But that’s not the point.”
Hunter and Grace exchanged dry looks. Felix and Danny had been split up for ten years before their recent reconciliation. For all of Danny’s modesty and self-deprecating charm, everybody in the crew got the feeling that Danny had enjoyed a much freer social life during the separation than the earnest and sober Felix had.
“The point is, this gem could have all sorts of things on it,” Julia said, her gaze seeking Hunter’s.
Hunter nodded grimly, and Grace narrowed his eyes.
“Why is that important?” he asked.
“This is a really secretive way to move information,” Hunter murmured. “It isn’t just industrial espionage. It could be military secrets, covert ops blacklist information. And a lot of it.”
“Did you say a lot of it?” Danny asked over the speaker. “Because that’s my concern too. This isn’t one secret—it’s many. And if Sergei Kadjic has been trafficking in many secrets lately, then the implications of this uptick in activity has the potential to be very important. We need to see what’s on that stone!”
“But we can’t steal it now!” Julia said. “All of the suspicion would immediately be thrown on Grace and Artur. Or Lucius, and