Beneath the low, heat-radiating undercarriage of the Maserati, Aria's breath shuddered in her chest.
The digital timer on the brick of C4 flashed a mocking, glowing red.
00:55.
Her fingers were trembling so violently that the metal jaws of the wire cutters were clattering against each other. A thick, warm bead of blood tracked down the side of her face from the cut on her forehead, stinging her eye, but she couldn't wipe it away.
She stared at the tangled nest of red, blue, and yellow wires.
Up above, the gritty voice of the French cartel boss cut through the air.
"Once upon a time, the Vipers were ruled by a king," the man began. "A ruthless, brilliant visionary named Marcel Martin. He was a god among men. He built our empire. And he was untouchable... until he met a succubus."
Aria carefully used her free hand to separate a blue wire from the cluster, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"She was an Orpheus Witch," the man spat. "Geneviève Orpheus."
Aria's hand froze.
