“Why would they mark the Chinese Embassy?”
“I don’t have a damn clue,” Nael muttered. Clicking off the map, he brought up a search engine and typed in the name of the embassy. “It looks like they’re having a formal event for a visiting dignitary,” he finally said.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Miranda considered what the information might mean and how it impacted her own reason for being in D.C.
“You think that has something to do with your asset?” she asked.
“It doesn’t seem likely.” He straightened, his expression hard. “But I do think it’s possible Benson plans to attend the event.”
It was the same conclusion that Miranda had reached. Her lips curled into a grim smile. “It will be the last one he attends.”
Nael chuckled. He was perhaps the only man in the world who could possibly appreciate her fierce need for revenge. It made him even more sexy than he already was. If that was possible.
“Do you have a formal gown?”
She blinked, thrown off-guard by the abrupt question. “Is there a reason for your sudden interest in my wardrobe?”
“The easiest way to track Benson is to arrive at the embassy as guests.”
She arched a brow. People didn’t just stroll into embassy events. Only the very elite of Washington society was allowed past the guards.
“You can get us invitations?”
He shrugged. “I can call in a few favors. But we’ll need to blend in.”
She gave a slow nod. If he truly could get them through the front door then it would offer her the best opportunity she’d ever had to confront Christopher Benson.
“Okay.” She studied her companion. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Don’t you need a tux or something?”
He casually waved a hand toward the bedroom. “I have one.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course you have a tux just waiting in the closet.”
He ignored her mocking words as he reached into the pocket of his slacks and pulled out his wallet. Then, without warning, he was pressing a stack of crisp bills into her hands.
“Here,” he said, his eyes warm. “There’s a shop in the hotel that has formal evening gowns. Buy something beautiful.”
She shuffled through the money, realizing he’d just given her two thousand dollars in cash.
“I can’t—”
He pressed a finger to her lips, cutting off her protest. “We’re partners, aren’t we?”
A part of her wanted to shove the money back in his hands. She didn’t need charity. Not from anyone.
But then common sense forced her to accept that there was no way she could afford the sort of dress that would be expected at a black-tie affair. If she wanted to blend in, she had no choice but to accept his generosity.
“Yes, we’re partners,” she agreed. “What are you going to be doing while I shop?”
His gaze drifted toward the windows, where dusk was beginning to splatter the sky in dazzling colors of lavender and pink.
“I thought I would go for a walk.”
She narrowed her gaze. Yeah, sure you are. “Partners don’t lie to partners, Nael,” she warned in a soft voice.
His gaze moved back to her face, his lips twitching at her annoyed expression.
“I am going to walk.”
“To the embassy?”
He nodded. “I want to check it out.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a spy.” He gave a lift of his hands. “I don’t ever walk into a situation where I don’t have an exit plan already in place.”
She poked a finger into the center of his chest. His hard, broad, very sexy chest. “You’re not going to hunt down Benson?”
“It’s just a recon mission.” He grabbed her hand, pressing her palm to his lips. “I promise.”
His words reassured her fear that he might kill Benson before she could force the piece of shit to look her in the eyes and confess his sins, pray for his life—the way May had. But on the other hand, those words also sent a chill snaking down her spine.
She’d just found him…this male.
She couldn’t lose him.
Jesus…how was it possible? How had things changed so quickly within her? As she stared at Nael, this male she’d given her body—and if she was going to admit it to herself, her heart—she realized that the thought of him getting hurt was a whole lot scarier than missing out on her revenge.
“Be careful,” she commanded.
His lips twitched before he gave her hand another kiss. “I’m a Suit, Sweetlove, not a Hunter.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I’m always careful.”
She snorted in disbelief. “Why don’t I believe you?”
He flashed a grand smile now. “I’ll be back before you’re done shopping.”
“Any preference on the style of gown I should buy?” she called as he headed toward the door.
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes hot with hunger. “Something that’s easy to get off.”
Her entire body shuddered with the memory of his touch and his magical tongue. And as he closed the door, she shook her head, giving a rueful chuckle. That male had pierced the thick wall around her heart. He’d made her think that life after death was possible. That trust was possible. That love was poss—
The thought was cut off by the vibration from the phone she had tucked in her front pocket.
She frowned. Less than a handful of people had her number, and none of them were encouraged to contact her. The phone had been for emergencies only. She hadn’t even had a chance to give the number to Nael.
Pulling it out, she glanced at the screen. She didn’t recognize the digits.
Ignore it. No doubt some random solicitation, or a wrong number.
But before she could return the phone to her pocket, her body seized, then shook. Suddenly her hands started moving of their own accord. Her heart slamming against her ribs, she tried to find some control over herself, her limbs.
What the hell was happening to her?
Without her consent, her index finger pressed the screen to answer the call and her hand lifted the phone to her ear.
No! No! No!
There was a series of buzzes, clicks, and then one word echoed deep in her mind.
“Go.”
In seconds, the world went blank, and the phone dropped from her lifeless hands.
Go, go, go…
Chapter Nine
Nael left through the employee exit. It was a long shot that anyone had managed to follow them to the hotel, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
He’d promised Miranda he’d be careful, and he intended to keep his word. For the first time in his long existence, he was worried about someone other than himself.
A small miracle.
But one he thoroughly enjoyed.
Using the alleys and backstreets, he finally made his way to the Chinese Embassy. It was a unique structure that was constructed from pale bricks with lots of sharp angles and a center reception area that looked like a kiln with a smoke stack from a distance. He was sure it had been designed with some deep meaning, but he was far more interested in the various doors he could see as he strolled past.
He circled the building twice, then sat across the street to watch as people approached the front gate. The trick would be getting in, he decided. The structure was designed to keep out trespassers, not to keep them in.
Confident that he could escape with Miranda, he pulled his phone from his pocket and called his contact at the State Department. Ten minutes later, he was ending the connection with a smile on his face.
The man had promised that Nael’s name would be put on the embassy guest list. Now all he needed was to return to the hotel and put on his tux.
Maybe if he hurried, he might have time to lure Miranda into the shower with him.
The delightful image of Miranda�
�s lush, naked body gleaming with warm water and soap bubbles had just formed in his mind when her scent was suddenly teasing at his nose.
Just for a second, he assumed that his vivid fantasy was messing with his senses. Then, he realized that it wasn’t just a product of his mind.
He could actually smell the female.
His female.
With a low growl, he turned his head, catching sight of the dark-haired woman who was walking briskly down the street and turning onto the short path that led to the embassy.
Miranda.
What the hell was she doing? Shopping? No, that was ridiculous. Even if she couldn’t find a gown that she liked at the hotel there were no stores in this area.
Had she assumed that he couldn’t be trusted to wait for her before killing Benson? Or was she intending to outmaneuver him, and try to get to Benson before him?
Or even more disturbing, was she working with the bastard?
His cat snarled at him for the thought. The feline wouldn’t even entertain the idea that Miranda could betray them. Nael didn’t want to believe it either, but he’d been trained to think like that.
No matter how much he might love someone, they could always be capable of betrayal.
He watched with deep pain settling into his chest as she walked directly toward the front checkpoint. She was carrying a leather backpack he hadn’t seen before, and she was chatting with the guard as if the two were personally acquainted.
Fuck…had she truly fooled him?
His gut tense, Nael used the shadows of the night to jog down the street, waiting until he was out of sight before he crossed toward the fence that protected the back of the embassy.
A quick glance assured him that the security was designed to protect the place from human dangers. Not Pantera.
Taking three steps back to give him room for a running start, he charged toward the fence and leaped over the top with a speed that would hide him from the cameras. All the guards would see would be a blur that they would dismiss as a technical glitch.
Hitting the ground inside the embassy, he raced forward. He reached the corner of one wing in time to watch Miranda being escorted through the front door.
His cat growled low and dangerous. What the hell was going on?
Squaring his shoulders, Nael strolled across a small courtyard, acting as if he belonged there. Then, once he reached the nearest door, he stepped toward a marble bench. The lights were beginning to switch on, but there were enough shadows for him to remain unnoticed.
He was desperate to sneak inside and discover what Miranda was doing, but he knew that any attempt to open a door or window without the security code would set off a dozen alarms. He wouldn’t figure out anything if a sniper put a bullet through his head.
Thankfully, less than a couple minutes passed when the door was pushed open from the inside by a uniformed guard. Silently, Nael allowed him to pass, then darted forward in time to slip through the door before it swung shut.
Once inside, he paused. He was in a public area of the embassy, although it didn’t look as if it was used very often. In fact, there were red velvet ropes at the end of the long room to indicate the spot was off-limits. Nael used his momentary privacy to close his eyes and suck in a deep breath.
At first he could smell nothing but the heavy aroma of food. The caterers were nearby with their trays of hors d’oeuvres. Concentrating on blocking out the thick, spicy smell, he sucked in another breath. This time he caught the faint, familiar scent that made his cat roar.
Not with betrayal. He knew it in his skin—and beneath his skin. No matter what his logic might try to tell him, or what warnings had been bred into him by Raph and his brothers and sisters of the Six, his beast was one-hundred percent certain that Miranda was innocent.
And that she was in grave danger.
With long strides, he was across the room and leaping over the velvet ropes. Then, following Miranda’s scent, he headed down a narrow hall that ended in the formal reception area. Halting at the double doors, he cautiously glanced around the long room.
The floor was a polished parquet, with numerous tall tables that were covered with white clothes. Overhead, a domed ceiling was bathing the handful of employees who were scurrying around in a soft glow.
The place was humming with the excitement that came just before a major event, which might explain why none of the uniformed staff paid any attention to the dark-haired woman who walked directly to the back of the room. Baffled, he slipped inside the door and followed behind Miranda.
He half expected her to catch his scent, or to at least feel that he was nearby. But her pace never slowed as she briskly moved toward the bank of fresh orchids that were arranged behind a long table loaded with champagne glasses.
His confusion only deepened as she halted and pulled the backpack off her shoulder.
Was she waiting for someone? Did she have a weapon?
Determined to discover the truth, Nael walked toward her. At the same time, she moved as if she was going to set the backpack next to the table.
It was that precise moment that he caught the unmistakable scent of explosives.
With a curse, he leaped forward. He grabbed Miranda by the arm and tugged her behind the flowers. They weren’t completely hidden, but it was as good as it was going to get.
Taking care not to juggle the backpack, he took it from her hands and unzipped it so he could glance inside. A bomb. Just as he suspected. Thankfully, it hadn’t been armed yet.
He gingerly set the backpack next to his feet, then he reached out to grasp her by the upper arms. He glared down at her wan face.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Her dark gaze was unfocused, her expression blank. He studied her, waiting for her to react to the realization her secret plans had been uncovered. She continued to blankly stare at his chest.
It was almost as if she was sleepwalking.
“Miranda.” He gave her a small shake. “Talk to me.”
Nothing. She didn’t even blink.
He leaned forward, pressing his nose against her neck to breathe deeply of her scent. He couldn’t detect any drugs in her system or even alcohol, but there was definitely something wrong.
His cat moved restlessly beneath his skin, warning that they were dangerously exposed. So far it’d been sheer luck that had kept them from being spotted by a guard. Or approached by a uniformed member of the staff wondering what they were doing there.
Any questioning of Miranda would have to wait until they were safely back at his hotel room.
Reaching down, he grabbed the strap of the backpack, careful not to juggle it. Then, clenching his fingers around Miranda’s elbow, he gave her a gentle tug.
Immediately, she moved forward. In fact, she followed him like a robot. One foot in front of the other, her eyes vacant as she allowed herself to be steered toward the door that opened into an attached kitchen.
A dozen waiters were busy loading trays with the small snacks that would be served to the guests. Their attention was locked on their work as Nael herded Miranda through the narrow space, allowing them to pass without raising the alarm.
Their momentary luck, however, couldn’t last.
Leaving the kitchen, they entered a maze of narrow corridors that led to various parts of the embassy. Nael chose the nearest one. There had to be an exit nearby. If only an emergency one.
He picked up his speed, Miranda shuffling at his side. He could smell a number of humans nearby, but there was no way to avoid them all. He could only hope that the upcoming reception would provide enough of a distraction to allow them to pass without notice.
The hopeful thought had barely passed through his mind when they turned a corner to discover two guards standing directly in front of them.
Nael came to an abrupt halt as the men lifted their guns and called out in English.
“Don’t move.” One of the guards took a step forward. No doubt the leader.
Nael
swallowed a curse. “What’s going on?”
“This is a restricted area,” the guard said. “Show your IDs.”
Nael flashed his most charming smile, releasing his hold on Miranda and moving until she was blocked from view. He didn’t want to use his real name, even though it was on the guest list. Not when he didn’t have a reasonable explanation for wandering around the back hallways.
Instead, he tried to pass them off as tradesmen.
“I’m sorry. We were here to deliver a cake for the reception and we got lost trying to find a way out.”
Evidently his smile wasn’t as charming as he hoped. The guards continued to point their guns directly at his heart.
“ID,” the leader snapped. “Now.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Nael pretended annoyance, as he carefully placed the backpack on the floor.
What he was really doing was judging the space between him and his opponents. It would have been easier if they were standing side, by side, but he would have to take the chance that catching them off guard would give him the edge he needed.
Acting as if he was going to reach into his back pocket for his wallet, Nael waited until he could sense the guards beginning to relax. Then, with blinding speed, he surged forward.
Grabbing the long muzzle of the automatic weapon, Nael jerked it out of the guard’s hands and smashed the butt into the center of his face. The man’s nose was smashed and his eyes swelling closed before he ever realized that Nael had moved.
Nael dropped the gun, not about to risk a shootout in the narrow hallway. Not only would it put Miranda in danger, but the sound would alert every guard in the embassy.
Instead, he grabbed the guard who was about to collapse to the ground. Wrapping his hands around his neck, he held him in front of him to use as a human shield.
As he hoped, the second guard hesitated. He didn’t want to shoot through his companion to try to stop Nael. It was a weakness that Nael used to his full advantage.
Bunching his muscles, he lifted the unconscious man in his hands and tossed him toward the second guard. There was a muffled sound of shock as he tried to dodge out of the way while at the same time keeping his gun pointed at Nael. An impossible task.
Three to Get Ready Page 6