“I thought he wasn’t interested in Ophidian,” the man says, pulling out a flask from his jacket pocket. His eyes meet mine over Zoe’s shoulder as he takes a drink. I tense immediately, preparing an excuse for why I’m watching them in the pantry, but he only smirks slightly before returning his gaze to her.
“Oh, he’s quite interested,” she says, her disdainful tone making it clear that she finds Jamison Hart to be nothing more than an annoyance. “He wants to take over Ophidian, but I’ll be voting for his father at the annual meeting instead. Speaking of which, I really must find Gallagher...”
I back out of the kitchen quietly, not needing to hear anything else. I’ve read plenty about Ophidian, a billion-dollar company owned by the Hart family that develops future technology like artificial intelligence, renewable energy, automated drones, and genetically modified crops. Most of the Executive’s technology is supplied by Ophidian. But as far as I know, Jamison has never publicly expressed an interest in seizing control of the company from his father, Gallagher Hart. Either way, this is bad. If my target is moving around the Woodland Castle and speaking to the other guests, I’ll never find him before the game ends.
On the way to the library, I try to maintain a casual stroll throughout the mansion. But I gradually start to walk faster and faster, even though I can feel the bodyguards watching me. Like the royal soldiers at Buckingham Palace, they won’t move or acknowledge my presence, but I know I’ll be surrounded in an instant if I try anything out of the ordinary. I don’t even want to think about what’ll happen if I break into a sprint. And yet I find myself trying it anyway, darting onto an empty staircase outside the library, racing all the way to the top...
Where I collide with a firm, muscular body.
Shit. I haven’t been careful enough. Best case scenario, it’s another guest. Worst case scenario, it’s a bodyguard. I instinctively press my lips together and tuck in my head, letting myself start to tumble through the air. I don’t want to harm anyone innocent at the Woodland Castle tonight.
But I’ve barely even fallen when a strong arm catches me around the waist, keeping me from crashing to the ground. We spin around in a wild circle, as if dancing, our bodies melding together perfectly. I tilt my head upward to find myself gazing into blue eyes filled with laughter. The man holding me has golden hair and lips curved into a friendly smile, and his cologne is sweet and alluring, almost intoxicating. My pupils dilate as I feel the warmth of his body against mine. It’s as if I can see everything he’s thinking as he stares down at me.
I didn’t expect to run into anyone up here.
What’s her name? I have to know her name.
God, she’s beautiful.
I’m breathless, feeling as if I’ve tipped over the railing and into midair, even though I’m still standing on solid ground. Something about him makes me feel giddy inside, my senses hyperaware of everything around me, as if we’re both moving in slow motion. I’m the only female operative in the Executive who gets close to her targets through the prospect of love. But it’s only ever been a commodity I sell to get to a kiss as soon as possible. I’ve sold it over and over again, watched men conclude they’re starting their lives with the girl next door, when in fact they’re making themselves complicit in ending it.
But for some inexplicable reason, I suddenly find myself believing in love. No, even worse. Love at first sight. I can’t believe in anything else for a moment, can’t even think of anything other than what this man’s name might be and what future we might have together. And given the sharpened gaze of his eyes, the tightened muscles in his arm still around my waist, I can tell that he’s thinking it too.
He takes a deep breath, then lets it out.
“Now, what’s a girl like you doing here?” he says.
And all at once, everything comes rushing back like a douse of cold water, as if I’ve fallen into the bloodied pool with Javier Angelo’s corpse. My heart seizes, warning me not to lose myself in the emotions crashing over me. What would Alpha say if he was here? No choice, Echo. I know what future this man and I have, and it can’t be love, at least not for me. Because I recognize his voice from recordings I’ve heard over and over again, his appearance from pictures I’ve memorized in an Executive file, and I already know his name.
Jamison Hart.
three
“I thought I knew everyone at this party,” Jamison Hart says, smiling down at me. “I mean, you are a guest, aren’t you? What’s your name?”
“Eliza,” I say, without thinking.
Shit. My pulse rises as I fight to control my reaction. I can’t believe I just slipped up and gave a target my real name. He still hasn’t let go of me, and we’re so close right now that I could just lean up and kiss him. But I can’t, not without being sure he won’t pull away. I can’t risk coming across as a desperate gold-digger. I have to undo everything I just did and maintain my status as a potential love interest, all without alerting him to the fact that I’m not supposed to be here.
“Really?” he says, frowning. “I don’t remember seeing you on my guest list.”
“I’m Charles Bass’s daughter,” I say hastily. “Your father did some business with him in England.” The fake identity had been assumed by Bravo, another Executive operative, who’d conducted several business deals for the sole purpose of legitimizing my cover story.
Jamison’s expression clears instantly. “You’re Lily Bass. So your middle name is... Elizabeth?”
“Sorry,” I say, assuming a look of mock disappointment while keeping my tone flirtatious, as if my heart isn’t about to beat right out of my chest. “I didn’t realize who you were, and I use a fake name when I run into strangers. You can never be too careful, you know?”
“Hey,” he says easily. “As long as you aren’t trying to get me to invest in anything, you can call yourself whatever you want. And you can call me Jamie. Unless you really are after my money, in which case that’s Mr. Hart to you.”
I scrutinize his playful look for a moment before it hits me. “That’s why you made everyone play Sardines. You’re avoiding the guests.”
“It’s just the obligatory party for my relatives and colleagues,” says Jamie, shrugging. “Usually I find a way to deal with it to my satisfaction.” He gives me a dimpled grin. “The more pissed off my father is, the more satisfied I am. And he really doesn’t like games.”
“You aren’t even trying to hide, are you?” I ask, smiling despite myself.
He laughs, his gaze flickering to the pink highlights in my hair, then down to my sneakers, and finally back up to my poisoned lips. “You got me. I was in the library with a bottle of my favorite whiskey just now, trying to avoid any of my father’s friends. What about you? Do you like reading, Lily?”
And I know, right then, that he won’t pull away if I lean up for a kiss. I’ve completely nailed it based on his file and the Executive’s research: the type of girl he likes, the streaks in my hair, the rebelliousness of my sneakers, his love of books and whiskey...
I absolutely love reading, Jamie, I should say, then lower my gaze to his lips. He’ll kiss me before I’ve even finished the sentence. Jamison Hart has been in a series of relationships, each lasting approximately six months, and was described in his file as a serial dater. I’ll just be another one of those girls to him, and he’ll just be another kill to me.
But even though I’m supposed to close the mission, even though Alpha is waiting for me in the limousine outside, I turn my face away.
And at the exact same moment, Jamie leans down toward me.
I freeze, expecting a kiss to land on my cheek. But instead his lips brush against my earlobe, his arm tensing around my waist. What is he doing? Our bodies are still pressed together, close enough that I can’t think straight. No, this is wholly unacceptable. I need to clear my head of this feeling of giddiness and anticipation buzzing through my veins. None of this was supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to like my target, and I wasn’t supposed to avoid killi
ng him. What if people actually die because of this?
The mission has become dangerous after all.
“Don’t make a sound,” Jamie breathes into my ear.
As we stand there, I realize I can hear voices echoing up the staircase. Several guests are climbing upward, headed straight for us. Jamie suddenly releases me and grabs my hand, yanking me after him into the library. I run along behind him, flushed and breathless, trying to anticipate where he’s going next. We pass through the stacks of books and out into another hallway, whirling around a corner, pulling up short as lengthening shadows indicate even more guests walking in our direction.
“Here,” I whisper frantically, pulling Jamie toward a secret corridor. I’m not supposed to know about it, though, so I make myself hesitate and glance around in feigned panic, waiting for him to access the entrance. Come on, I think desperately. I know you know all about the hidden passageways. I know you want to impress me.
After a few seconds, Jamie goes for the secret corridor, closing his fingers around a wall-mounted candelabra and pulling it downward like a lever. Yes. With a soft click, a panel slides open in the wall, revealing a dark passageway across the upper floor. Straight ahead and two rights and a left, and then we’re suddenly emerging into an entirely different wing of the mansion.
But there are voices over here as well, not just guests anymore, but also bodyguards herding everyone back downstairs. Jamie glances at me with a raised eyebrow, grinning mischievously. What is he up to? Does it involve more touching of my skin, my hands, my waist? My heart flutters wildly inside my chest. I’ve forgotten where I am, who I’m supposed to be.
Or maybe I just don’t want to remember.
Jamie stops outside a nondescript door and swings it open, pulling me into a walk-in closet crammed full of winter coats. The interior is mostly dark, with only a thin sliver of light filtering in from underneath the door. Voices pass by outside, close enough that I’m almost worried, but no one seems to be pausing to check in here.
“So Jamison Hart has to hide from his own guests,” I say, looking up at him. Our fingers are still interlaced, his blue eyes searching mine with keen interest. Somehow I’ve completely lost control over the mission, to the point where I don’t care about the Executive or anything else right now.
All I want is to know exactly how much Jamison Hart likes me.
“I told you to call me Jamie,” he says. “And who says we’re hiding?”
“Then what are we doing?” I ask breathlessly.
“Getting to know each other,” he says. “You managed to keep up with me. Not many people can do that.”
“My heel broke on the way here,” I say, instinctively sticking to the script. “I had to change into sneakers.”
“No,” he says. “No, that’s not what I meant. You’re different from everyone else at this party. What are you doing here, Lily?”
“You don’t want to know the answer,” I say. “You’d be disappointed.”
The truth is I’ve forgotten my cover story completely. Everything has become way too confusing with him tightly gripping my hand, with him gazing deep into my eyes, with him standing so close to me in the darkness.
“I can’t imagine myself ever being disappointed by you,” Jamie says, smiling. “Stick with me and we’ll be sailing away on a yacht together, watching the sunset on the deep blue ocean. How does that sound to you?”
I have to laugh. “How many girls have you used that line on?”
He fakes a wounded look. “You devastate me, Lily.”
“Sorry,” I say. “It sounds great.”
“So it’s a date, then,” he says.
My breath catches as Jamison Hart pulls me toward him, his eyes still gazing into mine. This is exactly what I was hoping for when I was in the limousine outside the mansion. A quick kiss, nothing more, in and out before anything got too messy. But even though I’ve been holding myself back from closing the mission, I’m finding that I do want to kiss him now. Not because he’s my target, but because I feel insanely attracted to him. The tension between us is so thick with anticipation that I can practically taste it. How could Jamison Hart, Jamie, this man before me with blue eyes and lips curved upward in a charming smile, be an enemy of the nation? I’m the one who’s supposed to be making him fall in love with me.
But for the first time in my life, I’ve met someone who’s better at this game than I am.
Jamie leans down toward my lips, close enough that we’re almost kissing. But he doesn’t move any closer. He’s waiting for me to reciprocate, yet still giving me a way out if I want it. I’m so close to giving in, my poisoned lips drifting closer and closer to his, when I hear a voice.
“Jamison?”
I jerk away to see Zoe Evano stepping out from the other side of the closet. She’s lighting up the interior with her cell phone, looking surprised to see us. The British man doesn’t seem to be with her anymore.
“Zoe!” says Jamie amiably. “How are you enjoying the game of Sardines?”
“It’s quite the choice of entertainment,” she says. “I was wondering if you’d turn up again. Did you find your father yet, by the way? There are some matters we need to discuss...”
She trails off, coughing violently into her hand. Now that I’m paying attention, I can see that she’s a lot paler than when I saw her in the pantry a while ago. I can detect the faint almond odor of some kind of poison in the air as well. Cyanide, maybe. The poison on my lips doesn’t have a match in any database, but I’m also immune to anything toxic, so I’ve been trained by the Executive to recognize all the different poisons.
Whatever is on Zoe Evano’s breath is one of them.
Alarm bells start to ring in my head, urging me to leave the closet immediately. But I’m too overwhelmed by confusion to do anything other than stare at Zoe. How could this have happened? Despite all my preparation, I’ve been so focused on getting close to Jamison Hart that I’ve missed another guest being poisoned by someone who isn’t me at all.
“It turns out my father and stepmother had to cancel last minute,” says Jamie, sounding irritated. “They’re meeting with their divorce lawyers again.” He glances at me. “Have you met Lily, by the way? Zoe, this is Charles Bass’s daughter. Lily, this is Zoe.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she says weakly, clutching at her throat. “I’m sorry, but I think... I think I’m not feeling quite well...”
And that’s when Zoe Evano collapses to the floor, her body shuddering and convulsing for a few long seconds before falling still. Jamie lunges forward instantly, resting his fingers against her neck to feel for a pulse. I’m still too paralyzed to check for myself, but this is so obviously not going to end well. After a moment, he shakes his head and looks up at me, his blue eyes sharp and intense.
“She’s dead.”
four
I don’t have to fake my distress. I’m genuinely upset, because Zoe Evano just died in front of me and it means something has gone horribly wrong with the mission. I wanted an excuse to avoid killing Jamison Hart, didn’t I? But not like this. Not at the cost of an innocent life. No matter how valiantly I was fighting against the urge to kiss my target, I was always going to close the mission before the night was over. But if a guest has been poisoned at the Woodland Castle, and it’s not because of my aberration, there’s another killer in the mansion.
Anything could happen right now.
“What’s going on?” I ask, at a loss.
Jamie is already retrieving a cell phone from his pocket, placing an emergency call to the police. “There’s a balcony through the next room,” he says to me. “Just wait out there. I’ll come get you as soon as I can, all right?”
I make myself nod and back out of the closet, even though I want so badly to race out the front door right now. This isn’t the time to risk being held by the bodyguards or blowing my cover. The Executive is a completely different jurisdiction from the local police, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to
keep it together for long enough to avoid coming across as someone who might be guilty.
The next room is a guest suite that appears to be vacant, the white floral wallpaper deceptively calm in what feels like the midst of a maelstrom. I should have kissed Jamison Hart the moment we ran into each other on the staircase. I should have kissed him any of the multiple times there was an opening for it. And now I can’t kiss him at all, not when Zoe Evano just died. I can already hear more voices on the other side of the door, indicating the presence of bodyguards surrounding my target for the rest of the night.
But I can still avoid solitary confinement, can’t I? The Executive just needs to hear about what happened in the Woodland Castle, and Agent Novenine needs to understand that I have an alternate plan for closing the mission.
One that doesn’t involve killing Jamison Hart just yet.
I sink down onto the bed and call Alpha from Lily Bass’s cell phone. He’s listed as her chauffeur, so it won’t be anything out of the ordinary for the situation. I’m Lily Bass, who gives the name Eliza to strangers, who just watched someone die while playing a game of Sardines.
It’s completely normal to want to abandon ship immediately.
“Ms. Bass,” answers August, sounding formal. He must be within earshot of the other chauffeurs, or maybe some of the bodyguards.
“Zoe Evano just died,” I say, forcing my voice to remain calm. “I’m pretty sure it was cyanide.”
“I see,” he says. I don’t need to explain how bad this is for our mission.
“Can you ask Agent Novenine for an extension?” I say. “I won’t be able to kiss Jamie tonight. But he asked me out on a date, so I can close the mission then. Is that okay?”
It has to be okay. I mean, this is the only way I can avoid solitary confinement and save innocent lives. But August doesn’t respond right away, and there’s complete silence for a few seconds. I don’t need to see my partner’s expression to know he’s been thrown by something. What was it that I said? Maybe he didn’t expect me to ask for an extension, or maybe he thinks I should go ahead and close the mission anyway. But then I realize what it is.
Code Name Echo Page 2