Clarity (The Admiral's Elite Book 3) (30 page)

“They were working with the senator, how do you think he protected his interests abroad when he was here pretending to be a boy scout? They enforced for him, he gave them access to funds.”

“What a snake,” Becca hissed, catching the ear of the blonde ambassador from Whereversville. Then she caught his eye. He smiled
.
Shit
.
She turned to face a bronze bust of some famous Frenchman tucked into an alcove in the wall nearest her
.
Nothing wrong with hiding at a party. Just like high school all over again. Yay
.

Reese’s voice, as uneventful as his appearance, filled her head. “Budget cuts on our end, now someone’s killed their cash cow, they’re getting desperate. They’ll make a mistake now and I’ll be there. They’ll face justice for what they’ve done in the name of the American people.”

“He’s got it so turned around,” Kyle said. “Why can’t you just kidnap him and show him what you do? One adventure after a shapeshifting whatsitcalled will have him writing checks no questions asked.”

“Because,” Michael answered quietly, “we tried to speak to him on several occasions, explain who we are and what we do. His sense of right and wrong, good and evil won’t allow him to see us as anything but demons intent upon the destruction of man. He wouldn’t see any difference between us and a whatsitcalled.”

“Well, did you bring Admiral Black? Cause I think I’d have a hard time even listening to you if I was looking at that guy.”

“He was with me on one occasion, yes.” Michael snorted. “That didn’t go well. After that it was only me.”

A pause, Kyle was picking his words wisely. Becca could hear the gears churning. “You can be pretty intimidating too.”

“This man isn’t a kindergarten teacher.” Michael was losing patience. “Plain speech is perfectly understandable for him, it’s the message he has a fundamental problem accepting.”

“But he’s okay with swallowing this crap? That you’re basically a bunch of mercenaries playing enforcer for Jordan’s drug cartel? That’s just as crazy.”

“He’s a southern baptist from Kentucky. His father was a minister,” Becca filled her brother in. “There’s no way in this world he’s going to hear who we are and what we do and just say, ‘That’s great, keep up the good work,’ and carry on like it was just another Tuesday. They had to erase themselves from his head but some residual memories of us might remain. He knows there are bad guys wearing uniforms. A patriot, he’s doing what he thinks is right and we left him with enough to buy into the delusion. The question is, who gains by feeding it? Is Reese just a puppet for someone else?” She spoke as though to herself, taking a casual sip from her glass as she appeared to study the lines of the French bust and plaque on the wall beside it. Honestly, she had no clue what she was even looking at, Becca could only hope she and what had become a second family, could survive this mission. Sigh.

“Are you a fan of Gautier’s work?”

The voice, heavily accented, not in her comm but just as close, made her jump. “What?”

“I am sorry, frightening you was not my intention.”

Becca turned her shoulders. Ambassador Whereversville
.
Dammit
.
“Good evening, Ambassador.”

“Are you a fan? He was a brilliant artist, such a lovely contributor to our rich French culture.” A charming smile, strong jaw, eyes like melted chocolate; this guy was a total player.

“Not really, no.” Becca didn’t apologize, no one wanted to talk to a snotty princess. She could do snotty if it bought her peace. She turned away, giving both Frenchmen, real and marble, her back to look out onto the party, feigning boredom.

“Are you here alone?”

Can you not take a hint
?
“Yes, and I’m leaving that way.” Sip. No buzz whatsoever. Good, but a bummer at the momen
t
.

“Senator, you’re missing my point. If they’re here eliminating their opposition, you’re in danger.”

Becca zeroed in on the power couple, witness to Reyes’ aggressive stance; if he could bodily lift the senator and carry him out he would. Reese seemed entirely comfortable to stay right where he was. “Idiot.”

“What man isn’t when faced with such beauty.”

What?

“What?”

“What the hell, Becs?”

Lifting her gaze to where she’d last seen him, Becca saw her very possessive lover looking absolutely done with her new admirer.

Just at that moment the bunch booze swilling penguins blocking him from Reyes and Reese shifted, one guffawed, Reese turned.

Time took a hiatus. Becca couldn’t draw breath. Reese stared, a quizzical look on his face. Like he’d just seen a former classmate on the street and knew he should know but couldn’t place him.

Sensing their eyes, Michael turned to face them.

“Senator, they’re here!” Reyes took hold of his arm and half ran, half dragged the puzzled man toward the side exit. Still staring at Michael, transfixed, Reese stumbled. “Security! Security!” The colonel shouted, pointing a finger at Michael, suddenly alone in the middle of the room. Already on high alert, boots hit tile in a rush.

“What is this?” Thankfully her new friend found something else to shift his attention to.

So did everyone else. To all eyes but theirs it appeared the colonel played the hero, saving the senator from some perceived threat. A lone man no one would remember speaking to when questioned, they didn’t see him come in. The guards not coming for Michael, blocked both front and rear exits.

Pop pop pop

Screams, feet clomped and clattered, dress shoes slipped, and bodies went down in the stampede for safety. All eyes went to the doors and windows, as if danger could not come from one of their own. Only Becca caught the light on matte black as Reyes’ aide tucked his subcompact sidearm inside his coat.

“Kyle, we need everything you have on the colonel’s aide. He’s our shooter.”

“Becs, are you hurt? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine,” she was moving toward the side exit. She cast a questioning gaze at Michael.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll catch up.” His low reassurance, so close with the comm, was a caress.

A reluctant nod, and she watched him step sideways just as one of the guards grabbed for him. They wouldn’t fire in a crowd like this and Michael would be fine with simple evasion. “Be safe.”

He shot her a grin and darted into the crowd. Confusion would make his job easy. Hers, however, required concentration. Slick surfaces, heels versus flats, and a decent head start meant she had ground to make up. Fast.

Hitting the emergency exit handle on the door at an almost dead run, Becca felt the impact all the way up her arms. The door whipped open and she stopped to get her bearings. Two forms were making good time to her right, she took a moment to pat herself on the back for choosing heels with ankle straps, and took off.

Chapter 26

Red paved sidewalk fell under their strides, pitfalls from centuries of settling carefully avoided as Gabrielle and Kenneth followed their prey through the streets of Georgetown. They had to pause, listening for the sound of pounding feet, scan for glimpses of their fleeing suspect to fill in gaps when the scent of early summer blooms, restaurant cafes, and city fumes threatened to hide the creature from them.

That he was no human was a given. No human could see into the townhouse to make the shot he did, nor could he move like this one, managing to stay just ahead of them during a foot chase. But what sort of creature category he fell into was not yet certain. The sparing visuals and whiffs she’d gotten were teases only, none enough to offer anything concrete.

That Kenneth was weaker than he should be, however, was now definite. Every vamp she’d run with could outpace her, but this one was nearly a block back and falling. What the hell? By her reckoning he’d been consuming steadily from humans since Black put him out to “mature.” Time should make him stronger, not weaker
.
Can a vamp catch diseases
?
She wondered yet again
.
Would they admit it if I asked?

They turned a corner, cut down a half alley and danced over several outdoor tables in the courtyard patio of what smelled like a Pakistani restaurant. Several late night diners milled where they had scattered as had their dishes when what must have been peaceful meals were interrupted by a lone man racing through. Gabrielle planted a boot on the last table and pushed off to clear the back wall. The heavy spicy scent of paprika filled her nose, for a moment choking out the object of her pursuit. Landing on cobblestone, she shook her head. Spice was replaced by water, lapping waves on shores announced they’d reached the river. A second’s sensory scan and she followed downstream. Thud and scatter of loose gravel behind her, Kenneth was over the wall.

“I said keep up,” she growled.

“Letting you go first means you take the first bullet,” he sounded almost cheerful.

“I’m not going to miss you,” Ryan offered dryly. “You’re getting down to the river district, gonna be a lot more late night traffic and transients. Careful what they see.”

“Got it.” A breeze came up and waste, human and otherwise, hit her sensitive nose. She gagged back a burning chunk of lunch.

“You okay?” Ryan sounded like he was laughing.

Too busy concentrating on the trail as the route began to twist to come up with her usual does of sardonic wit, she muttered her reply. “Why does it always stink on the water?” 

“Because humans can’t seem to wrap their brains around the concept, ‘don’t shit where you eat.’” He sighed. “They gravitate to water because they need it, then where do they send all their shit and trash? Into the water.” He made a disgusted noise.

“I suppose you were a card carrying member of Greenpeace when you were human?” Kenneth sneered.

“Nope, I was as bad as any of them, Kenny.” Ryan admitted. “But time changes our perspective on a lot of things.” 

Isn’t that the truth
?
It’d been so long since she’d vowed revenge over her lover’s grave in some ways it felt like a lifetime, in others it could have been yesterday the wound ran so deep. But in that lifetime since Luc’s death she’d covered the wound so, though its scar would always be on her soul, it no longer bled as it used to. She made a new vow. When she stood over Almohad’s grave she would tell Ryan she loved him, make that leap again. See what happened.

“Hey,” Gabrielle pulled up just as a two by four swung out from around the corner of a red brick building. Just before she went down she noted the way the grout between the brick was chipping
.
Good thing they don’t have earthquakes here.

Shoulders hit just before her head, probably saving her a cracked skull but she definitely had a concussion judging by the ringing in her ears. One good shift and she’d heal that. It’d have to wait though, sounds of humans coming closer told her to keep the wolf at bay a little longer.

Not giving her a second to regroup, the shooter was on her  as soon as she was down. Too close to see much beyond wide set murky yellow eyes and dishwater blonde hair, she fought to flip him, get the upper hand. Fists were thrown, eyes gouged, nails drew blood on both sides.

“His left side is open.”

A quick glance, Kenneth, the little weasel, leaned, arms crossed, against the building.

Blindly throwing a left hook she was rewarded with a grunt upon impact. “Thanks for the help,” she wheezed, wrestling to get out from under her only slightly larger opponent’s weight.