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She glared in his direction. “I don’t do loans, and especially not from Mic Luggerio.”
    With eyebrows raised, he asked, “Luggerio? As in the Brasmatia clan leader?”
    She nodded slightly, then tried the radio again.
    How had Mic found her? Nearly twenty years under the radar, and now this. Had he figured out her true identity?
    “Why would he want you dead?” Jace’s eyes went dark, his brows drawn down, and body tense. He seemed almost…possessive.
    “I don’t know.” It wasn’t a complete lie.
    She gripped the microphone and cranked the generator again. “Come on, work. This is K-C-B-Two-Five-Two. K-C-B-Two-Five-Two. Come in W-9-Fifteen-Fifteen. Jelly, are you there? ”
    A screech and then Jelly’s beautiful voice sounded through the speakers, “Hey Hun, can’t talk, Jimmy’s wife just went into labor and he needs me to–”
    “Jelly, listen to me. Something really bad has happened. There was a…a quake, opened up a fissure in the ground. Swallowed my house whole.”
    “Oh my god. Are you okay?”
    She looked around at the wreckage and sighed. “We’re fine, at least for now.”
    “We?”
    “Yeah.” She winced, knowing the conclusion her friend would come to. “Jace Fialko is with me.”
    Jelly whistled. “Well I’ll be.”
    “I need you to focus. I’ve got the backup generator, but I don’t know how much air we’ve got down here. Hurry.”
    “Okay Hun, I’ll…ca…the…authorities.” Jelly’s voice crackled in and out. “Stay by the radio in case I need to get in touch with ya.”
    Where was she going to go?  
    “One more thing. Can you contact Jace’s family back in New Jersey, let them know what happened and that he’s okay?”
    Jace opened his mouth and looked like he was about to protest, then shut it and grumbled something under his breath.
    “Sure thing. W-9-Fifteen-Fifteen, out.”
    On shaky legs, Terra stood to examine the small crack that had formed along the edge of her plate glass window. “How long do you think it’ll take them to dig us out?”
    “Don’t know.” He’d gone unusually quiet and his eyes bored into the back of her skull.
    “We’ll be all right,” she muttered, more for herself than him.
    How long could they really survive down here? Two, maybe three days, depending on their oxygen supply. The local authorities would have to be able to dig them out before then.
    She sat down on the couch and Pumpkin jumped onto her lap. He purred when patted, seemingly undisturbed by their current predicament.
    “You didn’t answer my earlier question.” Jace stood, his eyes narrowed on her. “Why would the leader of the Brasmatia clan want you dead?”
    Good question. There was no logical explanation, other than the very scary one. He knew who she was.
    “I don’t know.” Her voice sounded petulant, even to her.
    Jace pulled the baggie from his pocket and clenched his fist around it. “If he knows about the dark turquoise–”
    “Shit.” Her stomach clenched. She hadn’t thought of that.
    “How well do you know the man?”
    “I’ve never met him, but I’ve heard stories.”
    “Yeah, so have I.” Jace pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled roughly. “How much more is there?”
    “More?” She studied the broken vase on the floor.
    “Dark turquoise.” He leaned forward, chucked her chin, and studied her. “If there’s more I need to know.”
    She turned her head out of his grasp and rubbed her temples. Could she trust him?
    “Terra.” His voice was deep, her name a command on his lips.
    “There’s more,” she said softly.
    “How much?”
    “A lot.”
    “Fuck.” Jace paced, cursing under his breath and mumbling to himself. Finally, he turned and gave her a pointed stare. “Does anyone else know where the mine is?”
    She shook her head. “Only Falcon.”
    “Falcon?”
    “He’s a friend. A healer. He won’t say a word.”
    “You better hope to hell you’re right.”
     
     
     

Chapter 8
     
    Jace’s head pounded