Page 28 of A Touch of Treachery (Section 47 #3)
CHARLOTTE
H enrika looked Desmond up and down, as though he was a tempting dessert she wanted to sink her teeth into. After a few seconds, she turned and gave me the same slow, appreciative once-over.
“Charlotte,” she purred in a light, feminine voice. “I’m so delighted you accepted my invitation. And especially that you brought your plus-one. How lovely to see you again, Desmond.”
A muscle twitched in Desmond’s jaw, and his fists clenched even tighter.
As much as I wanted to reach out and comfort him, I kept my hands to myself.
Now was not the time to show any emotion.
Henrika had brought us here for a reason, and we needed to survive this initial confrontation, lest our mission end before it truly began.
In the distance, the soft ding of the elevator rang out, followed by several sets of footsteps.
Henrika’s grin widened. “And the rest of our party has arrived. Excellent! I love it when people show up early. It indicates just how eager they are to acquire my products. I think you’ll both find the guest list quite exclusive—and extremely interesting.”
Desmond and I moved to the side so that we could see the people entering the library and still keep an eye on Henrika and Bryce.
The first person was a curvy, petite woman with straight black hair that ended in a severe line right above her shoulders. Black shadow highlighted her dark brown eyes, while crimson lipstick did the same for her golden skin. She wore a bright red sweater with black leggings and knee-high boots.
I recognized her from Henrika’s video and from Section intelligence reports.
Oriana Luzzo, the leader of a Paris-based paramortal gang who dealt in black-market antiques.
A strong combusto who liked to use her magic to restore corroded art to its original glory—and liquefy the bones of her enemies.
Oriana wasn’t carrying any obvious weapons, but she didn’t need to, given her magic.
Two men followed her into the library, then split off from each other.
The first man was on the short side with a square, stocky body. His thin brown hair was brushed back from his forehead, while his silver glasses made his blue eyes look even larger and paler than they really were. He was dressed in a thick blue sweater, black pants, and black boots.
Niles Perran, a biomagical chemist from right here in Virginia who specialized in concocting unique poisons to kill paramortals in the most painful ways possible. Rumored to be an enduro with an exceptionally high IQ. No obvious weapons on him either.
The other man was more than a foot taller than Niles, with ice-blue eyes, ruddy skin, and pale blond hair spiked up across his forehead.
A thick, dark blue plaid shirt stretched across his wide shoulders, along with a light blue vest that looked like something a hunter would wear.
Black cargo pants and hiking boots finished off his ensemble, and a large knife gleamed in a loop on his black leather belt.
Steig Helseth, a Norwegian assassin who enjoyed stalking and terrorizing his victims before he killed them. Another enduro with incredible stamina, speed, and strength.
The two guards who had ushered Desmond and me into the elevator followed Steig into the library and took up positions on either side of the open doors.
Beside me, Desmond’s body practically vibrated with worry and wariness. He knew the same uncomfortable truth I did: that the two of us were essentially trapped in this hotel with some of the world’s most dangerous paramortals.
S everal seconds ticked by in tense, frigid silence as we all sized one another up, searching for weapons—and especially any weaknesses.
Henrika clapped her hands together, and everyone flinched, including Bryce and the two guards. “Silly me! Let’s have a round of introductions to break the ice.”
She gestured at first one person, then another, including Bryce, saying their names, although she didn’t mention their criminal affiliations or paramortal powers.
Finally, Henrika gestured at Desmond and me. “This is Desmond Macfarlane and his better half, Charlotte . . .” Her voice trailed off, and she gave me a challenging look.
“Locke,” I replied. “Charlotte Locke.”
A smile played across Henrika’s lips. My using my real name instead of an alias amused her.
“Charlotte Locke,” she finished, then clapped her hands together again. “Now, let’s have some fun. Or at the very least, copious amounts of chocolate and alcohol.”
She moved over to the chairs and couches in front of the fireplace.
Flames crackled behind the black iron grate, adding some much-needed warmth to the drafty library.
Silver platters brimming with fresh fruits, cheeses, and other treats were situated on tables along the wall, while champagne flutes and crystal liquor decanters perched on another table.
“Eat, drink,” Henrika said. “Have a seat, relax, and warm up by the fire. It’s quite cozy, and I’m sure you all must be tired after your long journeys.”
“Forget the pleasantries,” Niles said, pushing his glasses farther up his nose. “When do we get to see this new weapon that’s so deadly? I’m here for it, not to wine and dine and chitchat with the competition.”
Oriana murmured her agreement, while Steig nodded and crossed his arms over his muscled chest. Desmond and I remained still and silent.
Bryce shifted forward, putting himself between his boss and her guests, while the two guards by the doors flexed their hands over the guns on their belts.
Henrika might have invited the other paramortals here, but this tête-à-tête could still go wrong a dozen different ways.
Henrika plastered another smile on her face, but her green eyes were cold as she looked at Niles. “We might be old acquaintances, but I’m the one hosting this little get-together, so you would do well to remember you are on my timeline, Niles.”
Everyone glanced back and forth between them, and you could have cut the tension in the air with a spoon.
My research into Henrika over the last few months had extended to all her old acquaintances .
She and Niles had been in each other’s orbit since graduate school, back when they were both getting degrees in everything from biochemistry to engineering to genetics.
Over the years, Niles had become one of Henrika’s main rivals when it came to creating biomagical weapons, and the two of them were always competing to see how quickly and gruesomely they could kill people with their latest inventions.
Henrika kept staring at Niles, her eyes still cold and hard. Niles looked right back at her, his own gaze sharp and shrewd.
A few more seconds ticked by, then he shrugged. “I was just trying to be efficient.”
Niles grabbed a glass of champagne and chugged it down. He exchanged his empty glass for a full one, then started placing food on a plate.
Oriana also took a glass of champagne, then positioned herself in the chair closest to the fireplace.
Steig gripped the massive hunting knife on his belt. His gaze flicked from my throat to my chest to my legs, as though he was thinking about the fastest way to skin me like a rabbit.
Danger-danger-danger , my synesthesia whispered an urgent, unnecessary warning. Revulsion pulsed through me, and I had to grind my teeth to keep from shuddering.
Steig gave Desmond the same serial-killer perusal. Then he frowned. “You look familiar. Have we met before?” he asked, his voice featuring a hint of a Norwegian accent.
“Possibly. I’ve sold weapons to people all over the world.” Desmond jerked his chin at the knife on Steig’s belt. “Although I’m guessing you like to take care of your problems the old-fashioned way.”
Steig grinned and patted the knife, which had a blade that was longer than my hand. “Sometimes the old ways are the best ways. Clean and simple.” He reached up and drew his right index finger across his throat, as if we all didn’t understand exactly what he meant.
“But the new, improved ways are so much more fun ,” Henrika chimed in. “Let’s have a drink.”
She threaded her arm through Steig’s and walked him over to the refreshment tables. Desmond and I also drifted in that direction.
The others took their sweet time getting food and drinks, but finally, it was our turn.
My stomach was in knots, but I filled a plate with fruits, cheeses, crackers, and some delectable-looking chocolate truffles, although I opted for water instead of champagne.
Desmond mirrored my selections, then we both sat on an overstuffed love seat off to the side of the fireplace.
The others had already arranged themselves in a loose semicircle, although everyone maintained a healthy distance from their neighbors.
Niles and Steig gobbled down their food, along with several rounds of champagne, while Oriana eschewed the snacks and delicately sipped from a single glass.
Desmond raised his eyebrows in a silent question, and I nodded. Thanks to my synesthesia, I could tell the food and drinks were not poisoned. Desmond quickly drank his water and polished off his food.
My father had always told me to eat, drink, and sleep whenever possible because I might not get another chance until a mission was over.
Even something as simple as downing a glass of water now might keep me alive later, so I forced myself to clean my plate, even though everything tasted like ash and landed like bricks in my stomach.
Henrika nibbled on some strawberries, then picked up her own glass of champagne and stood in front of the fireplace like a queen holding court. “Now, isn’t this so much nicer than getting straight down to business? It’s so rare I get to entertain these days.”
“Yes, I heard you had been having some trouble,” Oriana piped up in a snide tone. “That you were running across Europe trying to escape some enemy.”