One Wrong Move

by Shannon McKenna

  Dmitri knelt down. Leo was not going to be getting up any-time soon, perhaps not ever, if no one noticed him for a while.

  Even if he lived, he was unlikely to remember what had happened. That blow was hard enough to bruise his brain. Cause bleeding, swelling.

  He was pleased with himself. He was good in a fight, proficient with guns, knives, bare hands when the occasion warranted it, but this new skill was so much better, so much smoother. The beauty of it, the simplicity, the lack of accountability. Who could link him to this?

  He unbuttoned Leo’s white jacket, with the latex gloves he’d picked up earlier that day. His biggest challenge now was to get Leo’s catering uniform off without getting any blood on it.

  The rest was cake.

  Chapter 29

  Miles gazed uneasily at the bejeweled people bottlenecked at the entrance, wondering which were brain melters. He wasn’t surprised at the heavy security. No party crashers allowed at a shindig with a fifteen-thousand-dollar ticket price. Ouch.

  That price tag still hurt him.

  They’d scoped out every entrance before reluctantly coming back to the front. Security personnel were teeming at every single one, even the kitchen. So, full-on frontal attack, then. Hiding in plain sight.

  Nobody liked it, but what the fuck.

  Speaking of security, cameras were trained on them from all directions. Nina and Aaro did kissy face. Miles visualized his encrypted computer, and tried not to sweat. He’d picked up nerdy glasses for Aaro at the Walgreens, and they gave the guy’s severity a geekier flavor. Still, nobody in his right mind would mistake Aaro for a nerd. His body was too dense.

  “Burns my ass that I figured out how coercion worked after you laid out the cash,” Aaro bitched beneath his breath. “Could have just jabbed the guy who has the guest list. Saved us forty-five thousand.”

  “No, you could not,” Nina whispered back. “You can use this ability to save a person, or a kitten in a goddamn tree. But not to save money, or time, or effort. Or else you’re no better than them!”

  “You’re such a hard-ass. That’s the cost of a nice new car!”

  “And your point is?”

  Aaro looked rebellious, but suddenly, his face went hard.

  “Miles,” he said. “Ten o’clock, directly in front of the fake water -

  fall, talking to the lady in gold. See him? Fake tan, brow lift?”

  “Brain-melt dude?”

  “Yeah,” Aaro murmured. “The bombshell in the gray dress, she’s the telepath. Also badass. Also enjoys inflicting pain. The only way through the main hall is right past the two of them.”

  “Yeah?” Miles said. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning, you go distract him and the blonde while Nina and I slither in like eels.”

  “Oh, God. Why couldn’t we have just knocked out the six big security guys at one of the back entrances instead?”

  “Too many,” Aaro replied. “If it was two, or maybe even four, maybe. But we couldn’t take out all six without somebody getting in a call on their com device first. And then we’d be toast.”

  “Behold, my first task,” Miles muttered. “Schmooze the guy who melts brains, who is guarded by the hot nymph who reads minds.”

  “I’d do it for you if I could,” Aaro said.

  “Stop condescending to me,” Miles snapped. “Let me bitch and moan and be sarcastic if I want, OK? It helps me!”

  “Bitch and moan all you want while you get into position.”

  “Fine. I’ll see you in hell, or whatever Han Solo says.” He launched himself before he could get stalled out by his own good sense. Muscling ahead of an elderly couple who were also waiting to be admitted. Clearly, the old couple weren’t used to waiting for anything.

  He pretended not to hear their pointed comments about rude young people these days, about how it was all me, me, me.

  Right. If he were thinking about me, me, me, he’d beat hell out of here. What was up with him, anyway? Always trying to show the world what a brave and righteous dude he was. Who was he trying to prove it to? Himself? The McClouds? Or worse, to she who could not be named who had ruined his life? He hoped not, since his noble gesture was wasted on her. She was too busy blowing her rock star to notice.

  The image of Lara Kirk popped into his mind, complete with her streaming banner of dark hair and her nipple hard-on as the guy with the list turned to him. “Your name, sir?”

  “Miles Davenport,” he supplied, banishing names and images from his brain. He was a blank plastic case, a keyboard, a blank screen with a dialog box and a blinking cursor, like a taunt. Just try and get into my mental space, you evil brain-melting motherfuckers.

  Just try.

  The security guy’s face did not change, nor did he attempt to melt Miles’s brain. He located Miles on the list, checked him off with an electronic pen, smiled politely, and waved him on.

  There was a thick crush at the meet and greet, so Miles took his time, oozing slowly in Rudd’s direction. He was grateful to have spent last night reading up on Rudd. Business history, guber natorial campaign, the blogs he had written.

  He glimpsed the blonde. It was like getting kicked by a horse.

  He lost a few seconds, staring at her. Scary gorgeous, dressed in is-it-gray-or-is-it-black taffeta, shot through with iridescent gleams of rainbow, tits pressed cruelly flat by the front placket of her bodice, but still plumping up over the top, undaunted. Gold hair slicked back into a Japanese-looking topknot, a scary-sharp beaded hairstick stabbed through it.

  The closer he got, the more her beauty scared him. Her soft-focus shimmer confused and destabilized him, crowding even what’s-her-name out of his mind. He jerked his brain into line.

  Plastic computer case. Bland, impenetrable. The glowing fairy princess was a mind-raping sociopath, so keep that bad dog chained up waaay out there in the back, where nobody could hear him howl.

  The press behind him was shoving him to the point of no return. Rudd was inches away. Into the jaws of death and all that good shit.

  He stuck out his hand. “Mr. Rudd, I’m so honored to meet you,” he gushed. “I’ve been your biggest fan, since you were CFO of Scion! We studied your company in my econ class, and you’re, like, my hero! I read your business blog every week, and when I did exactly what you said, I made money! Like, when you warned everybody about Sylvan Industries? I got out just in time! Brillant, sir, absolutely brilliant. I paid for my graduate degree with money I earned because of you!”

  Rudd continued to shake Miles’s hand, since Miles did not let go. “Thank you,” he said. “You hardly look old enough to have been reading stodgy investment advice six years ago.”

  “I’m older than I look.” Miles grinned like a fool, presenting his body so that the people crowding in nudged him around, forcing the other man to turn . . . turn . . . and they no longer faced the front entrance, but stood at an angle to it.

  “That’s very gratifying,” Rudd said. He turned his gaze over Miles’s shoulder, getting ready to schmooze the next guy—

  Miles grabbed his hand again and yanked him back that crucial quarter turn. “Sir, I hope you don’t mind, but I already sent my CV to your campaign manager. I wanted to urge you to look it over personally. I can’t say I’ve been involved in a political campaign before, but I’m writing my thesis on the world’s new emerging economic models, and I have an economic vision that dovetails perfectly with yours. Your administration will really need my kind of vision to—”

  “This is all extremely flattering, Mr. . . . ?” Rudd’s teeth flashed.

  “Davenport,” Miles supplied. “Please. Call me Miles.”

  The blonde had noticed her boss’s plight, and was moving closer.

  “Ah, yes,” Rudd said. “As I said, I’m flattered, but this is not the time for us to conduct a job interview.”

  “Of course it’s not, sir, I understand!” A flash of glittering red swept by, tickling his peripheral vision. Rudd did not react. “I need you to
know how strongly I support your candidacy, sir. We need leaders who understand how money works, and can’t be jerked around by advisors with their own personal agendas!

  You’re the reason I’m here, sir. You’re why I can donate fifteen grand to the Greaves Foundation. If I hadn’t studied your blog, I’d still be working at the electronics store. So thank you. Really.”

  He wagged Rudd’s hand again. “Really.”

  “You’re most welcome.” Rudd gave him a big smile, and that was when Miles felt it. A breathless, anxious, eye-popping pressure. An urge to get away, as fast as possible.

  Just another couple of seconds. Let them get ten meters away.

  The feeling got more intense. It was sickening fear, now. But he’d been feeling queasy and frantic ever since what’s-her-name defected with the rock star. Queasy and frantic was normal for him. He ate it with his morning cornflakes. He hung on tight to his shit, and persisted. “Could I set up a meeting with you, sir?”

  he begged. “It would mean so much to me. I’m sure you won’t regret it.”

  “Anabel,” Rudd called. “Come here a moment, my dear.”

  Oh, man. Thrown to the dogs. The bombshell drifted over, eyeing him. He began to sweat. Like she had a direct line attached to his glands. She yanked a pull chain, and squirt squirt, they went nuts.

  “This is Miles Davenport,” Rudd told her. “Miles, this is Anabel Marshall, my assistant. Anabel, this extremely forceful and intense young man is a great admirer of my work, and I have reason to think he might be . . . special. Would you take down his vital stats? I want all his contact info in our files.” He turned to Miles. “We vet our staff with extreme care. I count on Anabel’s infallible instincts. Tell her all about yourself. As if she were me.”

  “Um, OK. Thanks,” he said, as the blonde towed him away.

  To God alone knew what.

  “Aaro! Do you mind? I was just shaking his hand!” Nina hissed, as Aaro dragged her behind him through the tables.

  “Did you see the way that guy was looking at you?”

  “Ah, yeah,” she said, with dry irony. “I thought that was the whole point of tight, sexy dresses. Isn’t it?”

  “Up to a certain point, Nina. Up to a certain point.”

  “I would have had to go a little beyond that point to read him!

  That was Thaddeus Greaves! He is the reason this party is happening! He’s the name on the Institute, the name on the Convention Center, the only name Helga mentioned! If there’s anyone I need to read here, it’s him! And you yanked me away! You were rude to him!”

  “He’s a dick,” Aaro muttered.

  “Why do you say that? Because he liked my cleavage?”

  His mouth tightened. “He looks fake. He’s hiding something.”

  Nina snorted. “Yeah! Maybe the key to our survival!”

  She was right, of course, and he had no good immediate excuse. “We had to get out of there before Rudd turned around,”

  he muttered, and pulled her toward the decorative columns that lined the room. He ducked behind one of them, into relative quiet and shadow.

  Nina glanced back anxiously over her shoulder. “And Miles?”

  “He left with Anabel.”

  “He did what? ” she gasped, craning her neck. “He went where? You’re sure? You saw them?”

  “He’s six foot five. He’s easy to spot,” Aaro said. “He was glad-handing Rudd. Rudd got tired of it and sicced Anabel on him.”

  “Maybe Rudd tried to coerce him, and it didn’t work,” Nina fretted. “Anabel’s rough. A new shield won’t hold up to her.”

  Aaro shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “Aren’t you the least bit worried? He’s a sweet guy. And incredibly brave. That crazy bitch will eat him alive!”

  “The worst that can happen is she breaches his security,” Aaro said. “She will or she won’t. If she does, Miles will have to deal with her. But he’s tough, and armed. Who knows, maybe she’ll even fuck him.”

  Nina jerked. “Eewww! That is a disgusting idea!”

  “He’d survive,” Aaro said. “There are more horrible fates than getting your bone kissed by the evil temptress from the dark side. Might do him good. Take his mind off that brainless slut he’s so hung up on.”

  “He deserves better,” Nina said tightly.

  “Of course he does. But it’s not like it would kill him, Nina.”

  “Let’s not have this argument. Your sexist attitude is bugging me.”

  Aaro sighed. “Oh, for God’s sake—”

  “What if it was you who had to go off into some dark room with her? Would you feel justified in having sex with her, just for the cause? Would you expect me to think it didn’t mean anything? Hey, just the evil temptress from the dark side kissing your bone, right? No biggie!”

  He forced his voice to stay low and even. “We can’t do this now.”

  “I forgot, in my impromptu marriage ceremony, to mention that detail about forsaking all others! I should have been more specific. Maybe we’re not exactly on the same page. You think?”

  His jaw throbbed with tension. “You’re being irrational. This has nothing to do with what’s between us.”

  “Suppose it was me!” she raged on. “Suppose I was the one who had to go provide a diversion, and Anabel was a man who dragged me out of the room to God knows where! Would you feel the same way?”

  “No,” he growled. “And you goddamn well know it.”

  She was on a roll, and couldn’t stop. “Oh, it won’t hurt her to get nailed by the evil emperor from the dark side. What’s the worst that can happen? A dick’s a dick, right? They go in, they go out, badda boom, badda bim. She’ll be fine, she’s not made out of soap!”

  “Shut up, Nina,” he said.

  She sucked in air, so he kissed her. The first two seconds, it was just to shut her up, but a kiss with Nina always had its own agenda, apart from what his own personal agenda might have been.

  She felt so soft and fragile in his arms. Trembling with emotion. He felt powerless to protect her. The enemy was everywhere. Inside her body. All around them. Diffused into the very air they breathed.

  It clutched at his heart. He just held her and kissed her until he knew she felt it, too, relaxing with a long, rippling shudder.

  He lifted his head, wiping her lipstick off his face. Her eyes shone with tears. “We cannot have this fight,” he told her. “Not tonight.”

  Her mouth trembled. “I know. It just . . . pushed all my buttons.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” he told her.

  She dabbed her mascara. “Miles is kind and brave and smart.

  He deserves love. And Anabel’s a polluted thing from a festering swamp. It would hurt him, to get close to that . . . thing. He’s suffered enough.”

  “Uh . . . OK,” he said. Not totally getting it, but whatever. She didn’t need to know right now just how superficial a guy could be, depending on the context. Just as well if she never knew.

  “And don’t think that it’s OK just because she’s beautiful.

  That’s not beauty. It’s just an empty trick. Less than nothing.

  Understand?”

  “Sure,” he agreed hastily. “Of course.”

  She dug in her little beaded red purse for a tissue. “You want to know something kind of horrible?”

  Oh, Christ, no, he really didn’t, but that response was not on the list of permissible answers, so he braced himself, hard. “Go on.”

  “Stan was really handsome. Women fell all over him.”

  He took the purse, found a tissue. “Yeah?” was all he could say.

  She blew her nose. “You can guess just how much of a difference his good looks made when he started feeling me up. When I was twelve.”

  He pulled her close to him again. “I’m sorry,” he said helplessly. “I wish the bastard were still alive so I could kill him for you.”

  She nodded, against his chest.

  “It’s different for Miles, thoug
h,” he said. “He’s not a child, he’s not helpless. He’s big, and strong, and armed, and he’s, ah—”

  “He’s a man,” she finished bitterly. “I know. Go ahead, say it.

  He’s a man, and that makes it different. I don’t know why that bugs me so much, but it does. It makes me sick. And angry.”

  “Don’t be mad,” he said helplessly.

  “I’m not,” she muttered. “Not at you.”

  “We can’t go looking for him now,” he said. “We have to just do our thing, as best we can, and trust him to do his.”

  She nodded. Sniffling.

  “I love you,” he said. “And I’m adding an addendum to our wedding vows. Do you, Nina Louisa Christie, promise to never have sex with anyone but me, ever again? Not even the evil emperor?”

  That earned him a soggy giggle. She blew her nose again before answering. “I do,” she whispered. “Do you promise it, too?”

  “Forever,” he said fervently. “I swear. No one but you.”

  They swayed together for a silent, stolen moment, but it was time to make their last bid for survival, snooping in the heads of the crowd. Or Nina would, anyway. She had to do all the heavy lifting tonight.

  “Remember to do the invisible trick, like I showed you,” she said. “It won’t work as well, because you’re so big, and you look really hot in that tux. But it might help.”

  “You, too,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 30

  “Um, where are we going?” Miles asked.

  The weird emptiness in her eyes turned into a glittering smile. “Someplace quiet and private.”

  He felt hypnotized by the tic-tic-tic of her heels. Her fingernails dug into his arm. Checking out his muscle tone? Jesus.

  “Flex,” she ordered him.

  He did so, an automatic reflex. Her fingers tightened on the bulge of his bicep. “You must work out a lot.”

  “Some.” He darted a nervous glance at her starkly perfect profile. No clue if his shield would work, and he had to beta test it on a psycho sadist. He kept his visualization steady. Thoughts, feelings, hidden deep inside the encrypted structure. Wondering if he was trotting meekly to his own death by brain melt. He could ask, maybe. Excuse me, miss, but are you planning on melting my brain? Sounded like a line from a goofy British comedy flick.