I shifted uncomfortably and assessed the couples walking up the front stairs to the mansion. They looked every bit the ambassadors or royalty or affluent people that they were. Nothing about tonight’s guest list had struck me as anything I’d need to worry about. If this were one of my jobs, I’d have hidden among the shadows, taken out my hit, and been gone before anyone hit the panic button.
And I’d damn sure be doing it in pants. I tugged the slit of my dress closed where it had come open at the top of my thigh. This gown was gorgeous and admittedly sexy—and not anything I’d have worn in a million years. No alias of mine would ever need to be dressed like this. For. Any. Reason. This was half of what I loved about my job. There was zero schmoozing, interacting, baby-kissing. I worked in the shadows and I’d thought Clay did too. I was leery of this whole deal and my gut didn’t feel right. I also had Metatron’s warning in the back of my head.
“I’m not sure that I’m happy about this.”
He tucked a finger beneath his collar and tugged. “Yeah, not a fan of the monkey suit, gotta be honest. Payday, Duchess. Just keep your mind on the prize.”
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have just taken it while everyone was busy with the party in another area of the castle.”
“You saw the layout and the guard schedule. Just when, exactly, did you think we’d be able to pull that off? Sometimes the best pick is when everything is in plain sight.” He laid his hand on my shoulder. “Do you trust me?”
I turned my head and looked at him, leaning on decades of training and what I knew about working with him so far. I did trust him, and that worried me, because that was how people got killed. I didn’t do team assignments for a reason. I liked being one hundred percent in control at all times. Clay wasn’t just taking me out of my comfort zone, he was making me work beyond my limits as an assassin too. I didn’t do well with the lights on.
He squeezed my shoulder.
“Yes,” I sighed heavily. “I do.”
Clay’s fingers wrapped around my chin and he pulled me close. “Then really trust me.”
Clay
Clay held his elbow for Lina. She was drop-dead hotness in that dress. It was going to take all his control to stay focused on tonight’s job with her in that number. He’d thought bringing her as his wife would be a funny joke and a way to fill out their friendship, but he was glad to have her along for her expertise too. Much as he hated to admit it, there would have been no way that he’d have been able to pull off this job.
The level of misdirection and miscommunication that he’d gotten from his buyer from the initial bid to what they were walking into tonight didn’t sit right with him. But he hadn’t admitted any of that to Lina, especially when she had her own reservations. Clay had worked with this buyer for years, and did several heists a year for him, without a single hiccup or problem. Until tonight, they’d proven simple and straightforward—still incredibly advanced for the average guy, but some of Clay’s easier jobs.
Tonight pushed the limits of anything Clay had done to date. The sheer number of guards would have been a challenge, but the popularity of the painting, and the deviation from what the buyer usually wanted made Clay wonder if this was repayment for screwing up the heist at Felt’s. The heist at which he’d run into Lina.
The buyer had been understandably pissed when Clay had explained that he’d been beaten to the punch and didn’t get the relic. Most of that had been a lie, but Lina had beat him there that night, and if the security guard hadn’t shown up when he did, she probably would have been successful in getting the ring without him that night and they’d never have met.
She curled her fingers tighter around his bicep as they climbed the stairs. Tonight was the first time he’d seen her unsettled. Granted, they’d only spent a few months together, on and off, as they’d interacted since finding the first relic, but she’d always been so sure of herself. He wanted to ask what was bothering her, but now was not the time. They had roles to play and he trusted that she’d play hers perfectly.
The twin butlers flanking the wide, well-lit entryway bowed to them and extended their arms to the open circular foyer of the castle. This was the front entrance and not the one they’d entered to head to their suite. Their suitcases were packed and loaded. Lina had dropped the Range Rover at a site where her agency would have it picked up by a contact. They’d rented the van and explained to Lloyd that they’d be leaving directly after the party, as the Duchess was not quite feeling herself. The butler had said his goodbyes and didn’t seem to be the wiser. The plan had been set in motion and had so far gone off without a hitch.
However, they were far from the toughest part.
Clay stopped worrying about Lina and took in all the elements of this part of the castle. He’d seen it all on the 3-D models and the security cameras they’d hacked, but in person, he always found details that he’d overlooked, or couldn’t see, and tonight was no exception. This part of the castle had been closed off and guarded until this evening. The guards remained but the doors were now open to the revelers.
To the left, a hidden butler door opened and closed as waiters and waitresses moved through with trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. “Would you like a drink, darling?”
Lina squeezed his arm tighter and nodded. “Please.”
He patted her hand and led her slowly along the wall toward the hidden door. She saw it and blinked, then inclined her head. It was the only indication that anything looked out of place. The more they worked together, the more he appreciated both her skill and her company. He’d worked alone for a long time, but having someone as adept as Lina reminded him of his brother and the bond they’d always shared—in good times and the dangerous ones. He’d long given up the thought of ever having someone like that to watch his back.
No matter what they faced tonight, Clay knew that she was the perfect companion. Maybe after all this Gates of Hell stuff was over, they could figure out a way to work together.
Lina tugged on his arm. “Dear?” She handed him a glass of champagne, her knuckles white where she clenched the stem.
Before he took the glass, he brushed his hand gently across her cheek, making her scowl deepen. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“Yes,” she hissed.
“Because no one here compares to you.”
“Thank you.” There was a tight edge in her voice and Clay knew they needed to circle through this main floor and wind their way upstairs, but he needed the delay to refocus.
Lina tilted her foot and pressed down on his little toe. He clenched his jaw and took the glass, draining it and handing it back to a passing waiter. Lina’s drink was unfinished but she set the glass on the platter as well.
“Ready?” Clay asked, moving her forward without waiting for a reply.
The guests this evening were a mix of art connoisseurs, businessmen, and dignitaries. But that didn’t surprise Clay, considering that tonight’s host had dropped some substantial bills on a piece of canvas. This guy ran in big circles, and tonight’s attendees were no exception. He escorted Lina through the sequined, shellacked, star-studded stream of couples, through the main living room, past the second dining room, and toward the base of the back stairs.
“The tree is splendid, isn’t it, darling?” Clay asked as he moved them toward the massive Christmas tree in the center of the room, adorned with glass chandeliers, over the top floral arrangements, and richly colored decorations.
“It is. Let’s have a look.”
They walked up to the tree. Lina placed her hand on one of the ornaments—a red bulb with gold glitter striped through it. “Lovely.”
“It is.” Clay removed a small device from his pocket and touched her hand over the ornament. With his other hand, he discreetly placed behind the ornament the device that would set off the impending chaos in the next thirty minutes. “Beautiful.”
“It truly is,” Lina replied. “Shall we have another drink?”
“Left,” Lina whispered.
Clay reacted, not bothering to look, but taking her warning for exactly what it was. He slowed and turned his body toward her, lowering her arm from his elbow and planting both of his hands on her hips. He moved close enough to inhale her perfume. His lips brushed her ear. “Stay still and pretend you like me.”
She stepped into him, her thighs brushing his. She slipped her hands inside his jacket, bring them to rest against the butt of the pistol in his holster. He tensed, not liking where she’d made him put it. But she had insisted, since she didn’t have anywhere to stash hers. Clay thought the six knives strapped to her thighs should have been enough. But she’d wanted to be prepared for anything, so he’d relented.
He smiled and leaned closer. Had he known this was how she was going to come after it, he wouldn’t have been so reluctant.
Her scent was intoxicating. It reminded him of Hawaii, where tuberose and plumeria bloomed abundantly. Clay licked his lips, breathing warm and rough into her ear.
The guard moved past them—and now they had an ID on their floater.
Lina removed her hands from around him and turned away, ready to march off and finish the deal, but Clay grabbed her arm and drew her against his side. “Not so fast, sweetheart.” He nodded his head to the couple walking directly toward them—their hosts, Sir and Mrs. Jeffries.
Sir Jeffries was seventyish, tall with a slight paunch and a balding head. His wife, the Mrs., was near his same age but looked decades younger, thanks to the work done to her taut face. Her coiffed blonde tresses were as tight as her skin, and pulled back into a ball on the back of her head. It was a look Clay had never found attractive.
Mr. Jeffries tensed and Clay gave him a wide smile, turning Lina toward the couple and hoping like hell she had a plan. “Good evening,” Mr. Jeffries said as his wife’s face soured. She clearly did not recognize them.
Lina extended her hand. “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Jeffries. My husband, the Duke, and I would like to thank you for the invitation. Richard has spoken so highly of the two of you and it’s wonderful to finally meet.”
A smile spread across Mrs. Jeffries face and her crystal blue eyes lit up. She shook Lina’s hand and then Clay’s. “Ah, Richard’s friends, of course. It’s is a pleasure to meet you. I’m pleased you could join us.”
Mr. Jeffries didn’t appear quite as happy. “Have you seen Richard?” he asked curtly after his own round of handshakes.
“Well, as you may know, the Duchess and I have been traveling the world after our nuptials, and haven’t seen Richard since our wedding.”
“Hmmm. Yes, well, you did know that he’s visiting currently and I’m certain would love to see you. It was a surprise that he popped in on us. I told him that his friends were here, but he’s already had a few drinks.” He frowned. “He insisted that he hadn’t contacted his mum about the two of you.”
Mrs. Jeffries waved a hand at them. “Oh, dear, poor Richard can be rather forgetful. Let us find him. I’m certain that his recall will return.”
Clay glanced at Lina.
Lina grimaced and bent forward, her hands clutching her stomach. Clay gave the Jeffries an apologetic smile and turned to Lina. “Darling, are you all right?”
“I don’t know. I feel a bit nauseous,” she replied. “Will you excuse us? We’ll be back shortly, as we’d love to say hello to Richard.”
“Of course,” Mr. Jeffries replied, with a bit of skepticism in his tone. “We shall find him, then.”
Clay turned back to the host and hostess. He held up crossed fingers. “We’ve been trying for our first. Maybe this is a sign.”
Mrs. Jeffries clasped her hands together. “That would be wonderful! I do hope Richard can get himself together and meet a nice young woman. Feel better, dear, and hurry back.”
“Of course,” Clay said.
Clay hurried Lina through the crowd and toward the massive Christmas tree on the far side of the room. His fingers tightened on her arms and he lifted her to a standing position. “All clear,” he whispered.
She turned into him and reached up, sliding her hands in his jacket again, her eyes clear and wide, looking to everyone else in the room like a couple overcome with desire for each other. “If you ever”—she gave his nipples a tight twist—”get me into something like this again, I’ll kill you. No payday is worth this. And, pregnant? You were making them think that we’re trying to have a baby? And their son—the one I supposedly went to Harvard with is here! How did you miss that detail?”
Clay pressed his face close enough to brush his lips against her ear. “They weren’t supposed to mingle for another thirty minutes. You know that as well as I do. Richard is obviously impulsive. I sure didn’t see that coming. Shit happens. Get back on plan and let’s finish this. We are playing the part.” His hands tightened on her waist. “We’re almost done. Don’t bail on me now.”
Lina nodded and turned, tucking her hand into Clay’s arm and letting him escort her up the stairs under the ruse of studying the paintings along the wide hallway at the top. The old castle had been fantastically renovated and Clay had been inside enough of them over the years to know that no expense had been spared on it.
Which was unfortunate for their task tonight, as old doors and windows made for easy getaways. But they’d come up with plenty of backup plans.
Lina pointed to the far end of the hall, just like they’d planned in case anyone was listening. “Is that a Kent? I’d like to see it.”
They walked past three more sets of guards, ignoring them just like the other guests would do.
Clay stretched his arm forward, letting his sleeve pull away from his watch. The charges were set to go off in exactly fourteen seconds, so he made her slow her pace just enough to time this perfectly.
They were three feet from the door to the gallery when the explosion took out the Christmas tree on the lower level. Every alarm in the house emitted an ear-piercing scream. Guests scattered in every direction. Then the lights flickered and went out. Clay pushed Lina down and covered her upper body with his as the final set of guards ran toward the site of the blast.
He counted to five, grinned, and helped Lina to her feet. “Two minutes.”
Lina
He didn’t need to tell me twice. I took off running and pushed through the door and toward the far window, where we’d make our escape after Clay had the painting. Using my smallest knife, which had been concealed in my thigh holster, I sliced the window sensor. The explosion had set off the alarms and they’d have to be reset. By the time they figured out that this one had been tampered with, we’d be out of there.
Clay dead-bolted the door behind us and raced to the painting. I met him there and helped him get it off the wall. My guts were roiling and I didn’t want to waste a single second.
He took the painting off the wall and freed it from the frame. I watched, more confused than ever about how this piece fit in. It was completely incongruent with everything he’d stolen for this buyer.
I didn’t like it. Habits defined buyers too. They didn’t stray from what they wanted, what they knew they could sell, what they were emotionally attached to. This painting made no sense.
He rolled the canvas and grabbed for my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
I scanned the room, looking for what was out of place, what was keeping my blood pressure from leveling out. The dress, heels, and pantyhose weren’t helping me concentrate. “We’ve missed something.”
“The hell we did.” He shook his open palm toward me, wanting me to take it. “Come on.”
I stared at his hand, at the canvas tucked beneath his arm. What was I missing? I thought about our trip here, the plan, the pub, Metatron’s visit. The clue I needed was here somewhere. I’d just missed it.
“God damn it, Lina,” Clay growled, taking another step towar
d me.
I spun and scanned the heavily shadowed room, searching the exits, the windows as the chirp and squeal of the alarm blared throughout the castle. We had seconds left and if I didn’t figure it out immediately, the clue would be lost to me forever.
I spotted it at the far end of the room, beneath a Monet, glowing delicately in the darkness. It was a beacon calling me closer. Had we not tripped the lights in here, I’d have missed the stone—a twin to the one I’d taken from Ralph’s on my first visit. I kicked off my shoes and glanced over my shoulder. “One second.”
“Don’t!” He lunged toward me but I was faster. “I’m going to stop bringing you.” The curse trailed me as I raced closer, knowing I couldn’t leave it there.
“Meet me at the window,” I called over my shoulder. “Three seconds.”
“Dammit.”
I made it to the far end of the room, swept the stone off its pedestal, and shoved the warm glowing stone in my bra.
“Hey!” Clay yelled from across the room, barely over the alarm. “You can’t take that.”
“You’re kidding, right?” I ran faster and pointed at the oiled canvas beneath his arm as he balanced with one leg out the window. “You’re stealing a fifteen … million … dollar… painting and I can’t take a stone?”
From the darkness, a silenced shot split the air. I saw the light of the report too late to warn Clay. He took the bullet high on his shoulder, his face registering the shock and alarm as he reached for the gun and tossed it toward me. He dropped the canvas.
I tucked and rolled, grabbing two knives from between my legs and throwing them across the room where the light had come. One hit the shooter low in the stomach, but he charged me without hesitation, shooting at Clay’s disappearing form as he tumbled from the window sill and into the waiting ground below.
That didn’t make any sense. Why not shoot me? I was a clear target.
Then the niggling thought that had bugged me since Clay first told me the details cleared like a fog lifting off the bay. This heist hadn’t been a way for Clay’s buyer to get a painting that was a complete outlier to his collection.
The Judas Relic: An Evangeline Heart Holiday Adventure Page 4
