“Paul tracked your car today,” Bryce interrupted, eyes bright and expression determined. “You made a forty-three minute stop at the residence of Amaryllis Castlebrook and then staked out her workplace. You prepping for a grab?”
I swung my attention to Bryce, surprised and thoroughly impressed by the tidbit of information and follow-through. Though Mzatal said nothing, I felt his focus intensify as he read the two men’s nuances faster and with greater clarity than they could speak.
“It’s scheduled for tonight,” Sonny said, then comprehension dawned on his face only an instant behind my own.
“You take me instead,” I breathed. Damn I loved my posse.
“Everything’s easier now,” Bryce said, voice rich with satisfaction.
Sonny looked off into the distance, no doubt running through the possibilities. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “It could work.”
An ugly thought wormed into my mind. “Sonny, is Rhyzkahl at the compound now? Or has he been there since yesterday?” I couldn’t unwind the wards if he’d set them.
At Sonny’s puzzled look, Bryce clarified, “Mega-Fabio.”
“No,” he said. “He hasn’t been around for a few months. But I suspect he’s coming back.” Anger deepened the lines in his face. “Rumor has it that’s who this pickup is for.”
My mouth curved into a tight and cold smile. “Even more perfect. When are you supposed to grab her?”
“Tonight, between nine and ten as she leaves a cocktail party at Bimini Bay restaurant in Villafleur—about an hour from here,” he said. “First night of a corporate training seminar being held at the hotel down the street.” He shrugged, then exhaled. “Take her tonight, and she won’t be missed for two days.”
Bryce glanced at me. “Abductees are alwaysbrought in at night,” he explained.
Sonny nodded in agreement. “And any bad shit happens indoors, away from prying satellite eyes.”
“Nice to know Farouche has a solid business plan,” I said with a snort. “We’ll ask Ryan and Zack to collect Amaryllis before the party and get her to a safe house.”
“Sonny, who’s with you?” Bryce asked.
Distaste touched his mouth. “Jerry.”
Jerry. The one Bryce said loved his job and didn’t lose sleep at night over it. The one who brought Amber to be raped and murdered. “Does Jerry or anyone else know what Amaryllis looks like?” I asked. “It’ll be pointless to try and sub for her if it’s obvious I’m not the mark.”
Sonny peered at me. “Jerry’s expecting a blond twenty-something,” he said. “With a good wig you’d pass for her well enough. Plus, I’d bring you in hooded, and no one will check since no onecrosses Mr. Farouche.” He paused, then shifted, his face coloring slightly. “But, ah, the other girl is more, um . . .” His flush deepened as he gestured vaguely with both hands.
“Endowed?” I offered, hiding my amusement at his discomfort.
“Yeah. Curvy.” He winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s cool.” I grinned. “In fact it’s perfect. Now I have a place to hide my weapons.”
Chapter 37
Plans and preparations for the infiltration and raid on the plantation could have easily turned into pure chaos and been doomed to failure from the start, but Bryce took firm charge with an uncompromising hand. Even Mzatal deferred to his judgment, to my surprise and relief. Within two hours of leaving the Nature Center, and with the help of Paul, Ryan, and Zack, we had maps and satellite imagery, a communication system, and all sorts of other gear that I never would have thought we’d need but suddenly realized that yes, we most certainly did.
And, most of all, we had a plan.Sonny and I: infiltrate and get me to the server room for the dongle-thing. Pauclass="underline" take down comms and security. Mzataclass="underline" strip the wards and burn through the fence. Sonny and Bryce: Rescue Angela Palatino and get her through the fence and off the property. Zack and Ryan: watch our backs. Everyone: Do whatever is needed to Acquire Idris.
At about seven p.m. Zack arrived at the house bearing a wig, dress, shoes, and appropriate padding for my role as Amaryllis. I immediately fell in love with the dress, and silently promised myself that after all of this was over I’d have it tailored to fit my normal not-as-curvy figure. Alluring without being slutty, it had a gathered bodice and a side-slit skirt—both of which would allow me plenty of freedom of movement. Most importantly, it came with a sheer and clinging black lace top that slipped over the dress and covered every inch of the sigil scars without reducing the allurelevel one bit. I didn’t even mind that the sleeves of the lace top were a bit too small. Muscles, I thought with a grin. I gots ’em.
It took me damn near a half an hour to get the dress and my pseudo-curves adjusted properly to accommodate and hide my little Keltec .32 in a slim thigh holster, but I eventually achieved concealment, along with a voluptuous look I doubted I’d ever be able to achieve by natural means. That accomplished, Paul, Zack, and Eilahn continued to load me up with other necessary equipment. My watch doubled as a GPS tracker, I had a backup tracker shoved somewhere around my right boob, and beneath the left was Paul’s dongle. And yes, I giggled every time I thought about Paul’s dongle. Finally, Eilahn and Zack double-teamed me to get the wig and makeup just right, then stepped back so I could see the result in the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door.
“Wow,” I said. Then said it again. “Wow.”
I didn’t look anythinglike me. The woman in the mirror was sweet and curvy and harmless, with an almost-shy smile on rosebud lips, and honey-blond hair that somehow gave her grey eyes an interesting hazel tinge.
“Kara,” Eilahn said, eyes on me. I jerked my gaze away from the reflection and stepped away so I couldn’t see it anymore.
“Yes.” I’m Kara.It was a reflection. Black dress and lace sleeves, wig and shoes and all. The woman in the mirror wore a ring with a cracked stone—
I shook my head sharply. No, Kara wore that ring. Iwore that ring. I looked down at it on my hand. Amaryllis would never wear a ring like this. Too bold, too unique. But Kara would. Cracked stone and all, because the ring and the stone and the crack held a meaning that couldn’t possibly be conveyed in mere words.
I looked back up at them. “I’m ready.”
Eilahn exchanged a quick glance with Zack, then returned her attention to me. “No, you are not,” she said firmly, gripped my upper arm, and walked me to the back of the house.
“What the hell?” I asked, baffled.
Mzatal stepped onto the porch as Eilahn escorted me through the back door. “The containment,” she stated, which was apparently all the information Mzatal required.
“Oh,” I said, voice small. Shit. I hadn’t even realized.
“Zharkat,” he murmured as he lifted a hand to my cheek. I felt the conflict within him, felt him waver in his willingness to risk me for the sake of Idris.
“Boss.” I squared my shoulders and shoved aside the gnawing worry. “It’s my choice to go do this. Idris is my family.” Whether by blood or not, the truth of it remained. “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t even try. You can reinforce the containment, right?”
He exhaled. “I can.” His thumb stroked across my cheek. “And now I have.”
I smiled, took his hand and laid a kiss in his palm. “Then we’re all good. As soon as we have Idris, we’ll take our asses back to the demon realm, and you and Elofir can fix this shit right up.”
“So we shall.” He kissed me, eyes remaining warm on mine for a moment more. Finally, he gave a nod to Eilahn, then turned and strode to the mini-nexus, hands clasped behind his back.
I returned to my bedroom with Eilahn and allowed her to fuss over my wig and makeup one more time, and after a few minutes she nodded, satisfied. “It is time to depart,” she said and took my hands. “Is there aught else you require?”