Agent Provocateur

by Liz Maverick

  But she wasn’t in a squad. She wasn’t taken to Center City with the others. And she wasn’t forgotten. She was isolated in a dorm room and marked as Michael Kingston’s personal responsibility.

  Granted, it could be worse; for a slave driver, Michael took Vienna’s breath away. And five days after she thought she just might have tasted some brand of heaven on his lips, even though she knew he had been manipulating her, she still felt a kind of breathless anticipation at the possibility of recreating that sensation. Once he finally called for her, anyway.

  And, finally, he did. With a summons in hand and instructions leading her to building 4G, Vienna was allowed to cross the grounds for the first time since her arrival.

  What she found on the other side would have been more appropriately called a theater. It was pitch black as she stepped into the lobby, then through the double doors. A tiny glow of light emanated from somewhere up front and Vienna headed in that direction.

  The seating area looked like it was designed more for a fashion show than for a play: the wide stage had a catwalk that protruded from the left side and then curled around to run horizontally through the audience. Spotlights hung from the rafters, pointing at the front lip of the stage.

  A perfect setup for a casting call.

  Suddenly, the silhouette of a man appeared, backlit. But she knew immediately who it was, the shape of him, the head cocked.

  If she gave him what he wanted during training, he’d begin to believe that it would always be so. Eventually, he’d provide her with an opportunity to get away.

  Michael beckoned her forward and then disappeared into the back. She headed backstage. There were no props, no scenery, no special rigging for curtains to be raised or lowered. Just rooms labeled COSTUME and MAKEUP and CATERING.

  Michael held the door open to Makeup. Vienna had heard people in the dining hall refer to a brother named Devlin, and as she entered the room she knew she was looking at him for the first time. He was unmistakable. Physically, the two men were nearly identical—black hair, green eyes, and a taste for expensive designer apparel.

  “Devlin, this is Vienna,” Michael said. “Vienna, Devlin.”

  “Hi,” Vienna said.

  Devlin Kingston pulled himself away from a gorgeous redhead at the makeup mirror and studied Vienna for a moment. Then he stood up and grabbed her chin, roughly turning her head to one side. Vienna had to bite her tongue to stop herself from telling him to piss off. Though Michael had done much the same thing, Devlin’s actions seemed incredibly impersonal compared to the warmth of Michael’s touch.

  “Easy,” Michael muttered. Vienna wasn’t the only one who looked over at him in surprise. But he and Devlin just exchanged a look, revealing evidence of some kind of power struggle.

  Devlin let her go and walked to the door. He turned back to the redhead. “Genn, put her in blue.” And then he walked out.

  That was an alpha dog moment if ever I saw one. Vienna had spent quite a bit of time analyzing the dynamics of people with power; her job in the weapons trade depended on it; the times she’d guessed wrong were the times she’d been arrested for weapons crimes. And if she was guessing right, there was undercurrent of something between the brothers, a sense of obligation or guilt.

  “Sit down,” Michael said.

  Vienna took a chair at the cosmetics counter, looked helplessly down at the mess of makeup and just shook her head. “I’m from Bordertown,” she said. “I’ve never…this isn’t my—”

  “You’ll be fine.” He reached out and swept her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ears. “Genevieve will show you.” On his way out, he turned back at the door like his brother had. “Genn, put her in black,” he said, and then disappeared from view.

  Vienna just threw her arms up in surrender. “I don’t know what to make of that guy.”

  The redhead laughed. “I’m not entirely sure he knows what to make of you. But that’s what I’m here to help with.” She pressed her palm against her carefully coiffed, retro ’40s glamour hairdo, then addressed Vienna’s hair, swiping a curler through the ends and sweeping it back from her face.

  “Devlin didn’t exactly warm up to me,” Vienna mumbled.

  “I wouldn’t expect it right away. Especially not if you’re playing Julia in some way,” she said as she began to apply makeup to Vienna’s face.

  Vienna frowned. “What do you mean ‘playing Julia’?”

  The redhead’s expression changed. “I shouldn’t have said anything. If they haven’t described the job, I shouldn’t be the one.”

  “Who’s Julia?”

  “Well, that’s no secret. She was Devlin’s fiancée. She’s the one who came between them all.”

  Vienna was just getting more lost. “Where is she now?”

  The mascara wand in Genn’s hand stilled. “She’s dead. But she’s what put the strain between the boys.”

  “How did she die?”

  No answer. “They look similar, but they aren’t, are they?” Vienna asked, switching to a more gossipy tone in hopes she could keep the woman talking. The more she could find out about what made the Kingston brothers tick, the better. “Devlin and Michael don’t seem anything the same. Devlin is like…ice. Michael is like…”

  “Fire?” Genn supplied, with a smile. “You like him, I think. That’s good.”

  Vienna frowned. “I don’t like him. Why would I like him?”

  “Well, I hope you’ll at least learn to like him,” she answered suggestively. Then she added. “You look very much like Devlin’s type, very much like his love. But your personality is not Julia’s at all. I think Michael must like your roughness. You should get on well. They come from the streets, too, you know.”

  “I didn’t know,” Vienna said, frowning a little at the slight. “But it explains the way he talks. It’s like he’s conditioned himself to talk like old money but the rhythm underneath, the pattern of the words…we talk like that in Bordertown.”

  Genn nodded. “Bordertown is where they were born. Where they met Pierce Mackey. I understand why they picked you. You’re a local girl. And a very lucky one at that.”

  “I suppose I am,” Vienna said. “Are there many former strike-prisoners here?”

  “Several at the moment.”

  “Do they ever bail out?”

  “If they did, I doubt they are still living,” the redhead said, her voice suddenly cold and hard.

  “You’re very loyal,” Vienna noted.

  “I’m very loyal. It’s important here.” Genn leaned over and stared into the reflection of Vienna’s eyes. “I would warn you, new girl, not to be rash in your decision making. This may be a bad field of business, but these are good men. You’ll see.” She snapped the last makeup container shut, her head cocked as she studied her work. “I think you’re exactly what Michael wanted. Let’s go to wardrobe.”

  Vienna stood up from the chair and pulled the clip from her hair. “So which one wins?”

  Genn stared at her, not understanding.

  Vienna gave her a big smile. “In other words, blue…or black?”

  Michael called up to the control booth and a few moments later the house lights went down. From his vantage point in the audience seating just behind the horizontal extension to the catwalk, he could hear the uneven click of several pairs of high heels against hard surface.

  Next to him, Devlin shifted impatiently in his seat. “Why the lineup?” he asked. “We’ve already agreed she’s perfect.”

  “I thought it would be helpful,” Michael said. “Just so we’re sure. This is for both of us.”

  Devlin made a choking sound.

  “Are you laughing at me?” Michael asked.

  “Absolutely. Come on, admit you just want to see her in the lineup.”

  After a pause, Michael said, “Okay, fine. I just want to see her in the lineup. And I think it would help us make sure that she’ll really stand out to Pierce. Out of a group of perfectly gorgeous women, would he
pick this one?”

  Devlin’s face turned cloudy. “You know he’d pick her out.”

  Without warning, the spotlights flipped on, revealing four of the most beautiful trainees in camp. Red curls, a shiny blue-black bob, brunette waves…and under the third spotlight, Vienna, the blonde. The lot of them wearing nothing more than obscenely expensive lingerie.

  Michael noted immediately that she was wearing baby blue and shot Devlin an annoyed glance.

  The corner of Devlin’s mouth curved up in a smile.

  “I think she’d work better in black,” Michael muttered and turned back to study her again.

  “Pierce will prefer light blue. God, in blue she’ll practically be Julia’s twin.”

  Michael studied his brother, hesitating a moment before he dug in and asked, “Do you really think we should offer him something he already had?”

  “We’re giving him what he thinks we have now,” Devlin said, flexing and curling his fingers into a tight fist. “I like the light blue on her. Julia wore it all the time.”

  “So blue is what you had. Black is what I’d have. Pierce will want what I’m having. I’ll tell wardrobe to put her in black,” Michael said, surprising himself with the hostility lacing his voice.

  “Fine,” Devlin spat out.

  Michael studied his brother’s face. “I’ll ask you one last time. Do you want to run this job?”

  “No.” Devlin switched on the intercom and then said, “Will number three please walk the stage?”

  None of the girls moved. Finally the redhead in the fourth spot turned her head and said something to Vienna. She gave a start of surprise, then awkwardly stepped forward from the lineup.

  “Walk it,” Devlin called out, beckoning her forward with a graceful curl of his fingers.

  Wearing a baby blue bustier with white lace trim, and a matching satin mini wrapskirt slung low enough to show the top of her garter belt, Vienna walked toward the brothers under the harsh lights.

  She stopped a couple of feet back from the edge, cocked her hip and rested her weight on the heel of one stiletto, a totally blank expression on her face.

  “Closer,” Devlin said.

  She arched an eyebrow and walked to the edge of the stage.

  Devlin swept his hand in the air, and she continued along the catwalk moving to the horizontal section until she was standing right above the men.

  “Stop there,” he said.

  Michael eased back into his seat. With a defiant smile, Vienna widened her stance.

  She wasn’t wearing any panties.

  The sound of Vienna’s dossier slipping off his lap broke the silence. He cleared his throat. “I guess she’ll do.”

  “I guess she will,” Devlin said. He leaned over and pressed the speaker button once more. “Numbers one, two, and four…you can go.” Sliding past Michael into the aisle he added, “Have fun.”

  Vienna looked over her shoulder and watched the other girls file off the stage. She turned back and looked down at Michael. “Can I change now?”

  “No.”

  She stared at him in silence for a moment, then said, “When I sit down, this skirt is going straight up.”

  “I realize that,” Michael said. He leaped up on the stage next to her. “Come with me.”

  He led her behind the stage back to the wardrobe room and held the door for her, watching the white lacings crisscrossed along the back of her corset sway as she passed and headed directly for the wardrobe racks.

  She reached out and ran her fingers down the rack of lingerie like she was running her fingers across a picket fence.

  “You like them,” Michael said, his head cocked to one side.

  Vienna turned and looked through the options. She pushed two sides of the rack aside to expose a black lingerie set—garter belt, thong, bustier, deceptively simple, gorgeous pleats, lace detailing. Michael smiled to himself as she pulled it off the rack and held it up against her body.

  Her eyelashes fluttered against her porcelain skin, then flicked upward in a quick instant as she pierced him with those blue eyes. “I guess I’m supposed to protest, tell you I hate shit like this, say that I don’t want to wear it.” She shrugged. “I don’t know that we’re going to have a problem with this. I think my problem is going to be looking like I’m used to wearing it.”

  Michael took the outfit from her hands and hung it back up, then led her back to another makeup chair. He took a hairbrush and slowly stroked it through her hair, the pressure of the metal tines a strange reminder of his power over her.

  “There is a man,” Michael said, pulling a set of ornate rhinestone hairpins from a white cup and setting them on the makeup table in front of her. “He double-crossed my brother and me. His name is Pierce Mackey.”

  He twisted his wrists and expertly put up her hair with a kind of cold efficiency.

  “He took our family’s business.” Michael took the first pin and stuck it in her hair.

  “He took our family’s loyalty.”

  He tucked another pin carefully away. “And he took our family’s love. We would like him to experience the same.”

  “Revenge,” Vienna said, looking into the reflection of those green eyes.

  “Revenge. We will work on the business. You will work on the man. You’ve heard the name ‘Julia’?”

  Vienna nodded.

  “Pierce Mackey keeps Julia’s engagement ring on a chain around his neck. He wears it like a trophy for anyone to see as proof that he has bested the Kingstons. That he has won. That was my mother’s ring. She gave it to Devlin when he and Julia became engaged. My brother loved her more than anything. She betrayed us all for Pierce Mackey. And we would like you to betray Pierce Mackey for us.”

  “So you want me to sleep with him?”

  “I want you to make him believe that you would leave me for him. And I want you to make him believe that you could fall in love with him. I want you to put on the performance of your life. I want you to do all of that. Subtle, clever, compelling. And then I want you to take the ring away from him and bring it back to us.”

  Vienna stared at him in the mirror. “That’s my mission? That’s why you bought me?”

  “You’re the spitting image of Julia. Devlin wanted that. He thought the idea of stealing Julia once again but from me this time around, would be too hard for Pierce to resist. You see…” His voice faltered a bit, and Michael had to clear it to continue. “He’s damaged everyone personally except me.”

  Vienna had turned away from the mirror and Michael gently moved her head to face it again. “This is the look I want for you. Julia always wore her hair up. He won’t be able to resist.” He frowned and said a little absently under his breath, “Personally, I like you better casual. The way you were before.”

  “The way I was before?” she echoed. “What happens to me at the end of all this? When the job is done.”

  “Assuming you’re still alive,” Michael said harshly.

  Vienna jolted away from him. “That’s cruel,” she whispered. “You don’t know me. I wouldn’t expect you to. But this is my life, not a game.”

  He searched her face. “You were sentenced to die, Vienna. You’d be dead already if it weren’t for me. That’s just a cold, hard fact.”

  Michael ran his fingers down her cheek. “Everything’s just a game in the end. Julia was supposed to be in love with Devlin. Pierce was supposed to be our best friend. And you and I are supposed to be falling for each other. Why do you think I’m so convinced that Pierce will believe what we need him to believe? You’ll sell it. You play a good game,” he said softly, running his index finger down, over the soft of her neck and between her breasts. “Maybe you don’t want to admit it. But I think you play a very, very good game.

  With that, Michael slipped out of the room. In the mirror she saw him pause outside leaning his palm against the wall and staring blankly at the floor.

  And then he just collected himself and in the next minute he was gone.


  Three

  Blindfolded, wearing a white satin evening gown, and sitting thigh-to-thigh with a gorgeous man in the back of a limousine, Vienna laughed to herself thinking this had all the trappings of a fantasy evening out…except that it was a job.

  A setup for the job, anyway, at a political fund-raiser for Center City’s elite. When the limousine finally stopped and Michael removed the black ribbon from her eyes, what she saw was hard to believe. Vienna stepped out onto red velvet carpet leading up to a stately Romanesque event hall, a far cry from the brick and dirt of Bordertown. Guided inside on Michael’s arm, it was all she could do to not let her jaw drop at the sight of crystal chandeliers, parquet flooring, and walls painted with delicately shaded cherubs.

  It would have been easy to let the sheer luxury of the event shake her focus. The fact was, a girl could easily get lost in a place like this. She could get lost and somehow never make it back into Michael’s arms.

  “I’m going to use the ladies’ room,” she said to Michael, turning away.

  He grabbed her by the wrist. “I’ll show you where it is.”

  She snatched her wrist away. “I’m sure I can find it on my own.”

  They eyed each other for a moment, then he finally said, “Come straight back here.”

  She smiled. “Of course.” Walking purposefully through the crowd she found the ladies’ room easily, went in, and reapplied lipstick that didn’t need reapplication. After counting to five, she snapped her evening bag shut and went back out to the party where the halls were already swarming with people.

  Vienna looked around for Michael, then headed in the opposite direction from where they’d been standing. She found a fire escape exit, but the alarm system made it a no go. Picking up the pace now, and flush with excitement over the prospect of freedom so close, Vienna craned her neck over the crowd to pick the best route.

  The front of the party was even more congested, and Michael was hopefully still in that mess. She headed to the back, but saw as she got closer that it was likewise wired…it was a side exit she needed.