Page 10 of Lethal Salvation

“Yeah, but you were there the night we rescued Andrea and Charlie was shot. He could have seen you.”

“He would’ve come for me before now if he knew.”

“Maybe, but I don’t like it.”

“I can take care of myself, Bás.”

“I know that,” he replied, “but I’m responsible for you. You’re too good of an asset to lose, and I don’t want to have to tell Jack if you die.”

“Oh, delightful.”

“You know what I mean. We need you, Duchess.”

“Yes, I do. I’ll be careful and check in later, okay? Watchdog can monitor my phone if it makes you happier.”

“Oh, he already is.”

“Of course he is,” she said, unsurprised.

“I might send Hurricane down to ghost you just in case.”

“Fine, but he needs to keep his distance. I don’t want anyone spooked.”

“He will. You know he’s good at this.”

“I know. I trained him.”

“See, he’s more than good.”

“Whatever. I need to go.”

Duchess hung up, knowing Hurricane would be in the air within the hour. As a former RAF SF pilot, he flew anything and loved it.

Slipping the knife into the concealed sheath on her thigh, Duchess slid her foot into the black patent stiletto heel and took a last look in the mirror.

Her tattoos were on display tonight and she admired the sleeve of peonies as well as the artwork of ivy and thorns on her opposite shoulder and clavicle. Her neck was a column of waves that seemed to crash over her collar bones and throat.

The tight black bandeau dress rested midthigh and showcased the roses on her left thigh to her knee. It was freeing to not have the make-up covering her skin, hiding the tattoos she loved so much. They were an extension of her and, if she’d had even an ounce of talent in art, she would have made a career as a tattoo artist, but she had no artistic talent whatsoever.

Grabbing her bag, she tossed her long hair over her shoulder and headed out into the night. She’d just do a little snooping and see if she could get any gossip or get a feel for the club Carter owned.

When she arrived the queue to get in was around the corner and at least five people deep. It was a Friday night and London was buzzing with the weekend crowd. Factoring in that it was pay week for most monthly paid employees, the vibe was perfect for her to blend in with them.

Striding towards the front of the line, she put some extra sway in her hips and winked at the bouncer, who smirked back before unhooking the red rope and allowing her entry. She heard the moans behind her but ignored them. It was well known that if you could get beautiful women in a club, the men would follow and throw money at the bar. Duchess was comfortable using her attributes to get what she needed and trained enough to know how to do it without making a scene. Keeping her hair angled so it fell over her face, and her face turned away from the cameras she’d already clocked, she headed for the bar.

The atmosphere was jumping and loud dance music played as throngs of beautiful people swayed and danced pressed together on the dance floor like an erotic pulse, the beat of the music moving them in slow sultry movements.

Duchess leaned past the arm of a slick-dressed suit to order a gin and tonic from the bartender. She wouldn’t drink it, but she needed the ruse to allow her to walk around freely and make her look less aware and more like any other drunk woman in this club.

People would notice a stone-cold sober woman, but someone with a drink in her hand acting slightly drunk would be ignored and overlooked as a threat in a way she needed. Loose lips would give her what she wanted in tiny snippets.

Ignoring the lecherous look of the suit, she winked at the barman, who gave her a chin lift and flirty wink in return and headed toward the VIP section. That was where she needed to be. That was where Carter would be, or where his minions would congregate in his absence.

It was too easy to get past the huge bouncer guarding the stairs to the VIP section. A smile and a pout as his eyes moved over her breasts and down her legs. “Nice ink, gorgeous.”

Duchess gave him a coy look as she ran her hand over the tattoo on his bicep. “I could say the same, handsome.”

He was like putty in her hands, and seconds later she could feel his eyes on her as she headed up the stairs. She turned and gave him a wink, and he smirked, thinking he was playing her.