Chapter 18
18
“Go ahead and put your trackers on,” Lawrence said through Magnus’s earpiece. He adjusted the tiny device in his ear canal, trying to reacquaint himself with the annoying tickle. He pulled the small bug from his breast pocket and peeled it open to reveal its adhesive side.
“Do I need to activate it or anything?” he asked, sticking it on the left side of his chest.
“No, it starts working once you pull the plastic off. Celeste? Still waiting on yours to show up.”
They sat in the back of Santiago’s newly acquired BMW, waiting to be dropped off at the nightclub Deux Monde. As he carefully drove through the cobblestone streets of Tallinn’s Old Town, Magnus and Celeste sorted themselves out and came up with tonight’s plan.
Beatrice had found Sebastian’s whereabouts, and the most current photo of him, through a dark web contact. The bar they were headed to was not too different from Santiago’s establishment back home. A nightclub front on the top and something lawless beneath it.
Magnus watched Celeste fumble with her own small flat disk. “Your dress is stunning, but I can tell you’re having a hard time deciding where to put your tracker.”
“It’s a tad revealing, isn’t it?” she asked, running her hands across the black fabric.
Her brown skin shined like bronze through the plunging neckline at her chest. She must have used some kind of tape to keep the panels from exposing her breasts. The strappy dress was nearly backless and the hem stretched downward to the middle of her thigh. Revealing? Perhaps... But delicious was a more appropriate word to describe Celeste.
“You should put it between your thighs,” he said.
Her gaze flew to his face. “Really, Mags.”
“Let’s keep it PG, y’all. There are children on the line,” Lawrence chided with mirth.
Beatrice chuckled. “I think he means for you to stick it to your inner thigh. I hope that’s what you meant, Magnus.”
More or less...
Celeste sighed. “Turn around.”
“Nothing I haven’t seen before, darling,” Magnus said with a grin. “Do you need any help?”
She punched his shoulder.
“Fine, fine,” he said, turning around to face his window. Behind him, he heard fabric shifting and shimmying around. He loved how she managed to act coy after being fingered last night. Oh, God, it felt wonderful being knuckle-deep inside her, pulling every shuddered gasp from her lungs. When she collapsed into his chest, breathing hard and twitching around his finger, he knew he had bested her.
The prickly teasing was just her way of deflecting.
Not that he hadn’t tried his own way of deflecting. After all, it was Lawrence who advised him to turn on that Nordic charm .
“This is as close as I’m able to get, guys,” Santiago said, pulling along a curb. Ahead of them, a steady stream of luxury cars clogged the street where Deux Monde sat. It seemed like everyone had the same idea on a Saturday night.
“Celeste, can you add your glasses?” Beatrice asked. “I’d like to watch if I can.”
“Sure,” she said, nudging his shoulder. “I’m decent.”
By the time he turned around, Celeste was slipping a familiar pair of glasses on her face before fluffing her curls from her forehead. “I’m not,” he whispered.
“I can’t believe I’m going to have to listen to them flirt all night,” Santiago muttered from the driver’s seat. “If only my Bonita Bea were here to keep me company...”
Beatrice, who was sitting in the same command center with Lawrence, snorted. “Eyes on the road, my friend.”
“Do you have the letter?” Celeste asked him.
Magnus patted his chest where the red envelope hid beneath his blazer. “Yes.”
“Good, follow my lead when we get inside,” she said. “The faster we see Sebastian, the quicker we find out what we need to do for him.”
He wasn’t surprised by her tightened reins. Not one bit. “Yes, ma’am...” Magnus sighed, exiting the vehicle. He walked around the back of the car, opened her door and extended his hand.
Celeste looked up from the darkness of the backseat, her lips twitching in amusement. “Thank you.”
He pulled her from the car and carefully placed her on the sidewalk. “I hope you haven’t made a mistake choosing those shoes. The cobblestones here are pretty bad.”
“I don’t like it any more than you do, but you can’t wear a dress like this without heels.”
“I’m sorry to say it but I like them very much,” he said, grinning at her legs.
“You kids have fun,” Santiago said. “Let me know when to return.” The BMW pulled away, passing the line of cars before them.
She slipped her arm through his. “Just in case I fall on my face.”
“I’ve got you.” He led her by the arm down the sidewalk. It turned out Celeste was indeed appropriately dressed for the evening. Many women wore pencil-thin stilettos and moved with far more grace than his partner.
“Last night, I read an interesting entry in Dr. Grant’s diary.”
“Oh?”
“It seems that the Tahitian pearls play a big part in their relationship. He stole a necklace from her, one he’d given her years previous.”
“Did she get them back?”
She grinned and shrugged. “It’s hard to say.”
“We’ve got two men on the door,” Magnus murmured. “Did you want to relay the message to them?”
Celeste shook her head. “No. I’d rather get inside first.”
“Get a drink, have a dance?”
“If dancing is required, you might be in trouble.”
Magnus scoffed. “Celeste, you wound me. I’m light on my feet and my rhythm is impeccable.”
Before she could deliver another barb to him, they arrived at the front doors, where the two security bouncers eyed them coldly. The one closest to Celeste gave a quick nod and allowed them entrance. Inside was a lush scene dripping with roaring twenties opulence. Red velvet tapestries draped the walls, dark parquet wood floors were polished and the high ceiling gleamed with gold tiling in the club’s soft lighting. Plenty of dark corners to hide away with the one you wanted to seduce.
The woman on his arm had a look of determination that quickly squashed that idea. Of course, Magnus was also there on business, but Celeste was in charge this evening. And he didn’t want to fight with her just yet. Tonight he was more interested in observing how she carried herself.
“The bar?” she asked, smiling up at him.
“Of course.” He carefully led her toward the bar, navigating the crush of ultra-wealthy patrons surrounding them. Some looked like European playboys from central casting; others looked like Russian oligarchs. The women were elegant, aloof and shrewd.
The bar stretched the entire length of the club and was operated by four bartenders, all men, dressed in starched white dress shirts and black neckties. Magnus waved the closest one over and waited. “What would you like?”
“G&T, please.”
“So polite,” he whispered on the side without an earpiece. He ran his fingers down her bare arm and watched as a delicate blush flared between her breasts. He had hoped that the ambient noise of the club, chatter from the patrons and low-volume jazz could disguise his voice from the rest of the crew. “You think you can keep that sweet tongue after this?”
She looked up at him, her large brown eyes narrowing. “You’re incorrigible,” she whispered.
He couldn’t help himself. After their interaction in the kitchen, Magnus felt himself being pulled right back into the push and pull they used to dance years back. He teased her, she snapped back with venom and he stoked her passions until they both gave up the fight. It had been an entertaining game for them right up until he wanted to keep her all to himself. This time, he wouldn’t make that mistake.
The young man behind the bar took their order and set out to make two gin and tonics. “Any sign of an elderly French man of distinction in this crowd?” he asked.
“I need Celeste to do a slower scan of the room,” Beatrice said through the earpiece. “I’ve got AI facial recognition based on our image of Sebastian.”
“Good Lord, I’m impressed by the kid, CeCe,” Lawrence intoned softly. “She’s actually scanning faces through your camera feed.”
Beatrice chuckled. “Slower, Celeste. Go back to ten o’clock.”
Magnus watched her glance off to her left and stare at patrons sitting in a roped-off VIP section. “Anything?”
For a couple seconds there was silence on the radio waves. “There he is,” the young woman said. “White linen suit, white hair, standing beside the seated black suit.”
“I see him,” Celeste replied.
When their drinks arrived, Magnus laid some euros on the bar and handed her a rocks glass. “Feel like approaching him now?”
Celeste took a sip and nodded. “I think that’s best.”
During the walk from the bar toward the VIP section, Magnus noted the amount of men who were pulled from their conversations to openly stare at Celeste. He wasn’t surprised. As the only Black woman in the establishment, she was probably a unique sight. He kept a protective palm on the small of her back, letting his fingers brush against her soft skin. The stares were a mixture of curiosity and lust, both of which he was certain Celeste was accustomed to. Nevertheless, he stayed close enough to broadcast that she was not a solo woman.
They stopped before the roped-off area, in front of a large man who wore an all-black suit and regarded them with disinterest. Magnus had a feeling he was there for the young man hosting his many lady friends on the red velvet couches behind him. “I’m here for Sebastian,” Celeste said in a strong, clear voice. The guard looked between her and Magnus before his eyes fell back on Celeste. He said nothing, but he did unclip the rope and step behind it before reclipping.
He strolled over to the elderly man, leaned over and whispered in his ear. The man whom they’d suspected was Sebastian glanced over at Celeste with a raised brow. Once he got a good look at her, his eyes widened. He muttered something to security and waved him away.
Magnus took this as a good sign.
The guard came back to them, unclipping and reclipping as he went. “He will see you in twenty minutes,” the man said in a thick Russian accent. “You wait in that area.” He gestured to an empty VIP section near the DJ booth.
“Ah, look at that,” Magnus murmured. “We’re very important people.”
“That works for me,” Celeste said.
As soon as they unclipped their section and sat down, a waiter immediately joined them, setting down a gold champagne bucket and two flutes. “Compliments of Monsieur Fond du Lac.”
“Merci,” Celeste murmured as the young man popped the bottle and set it back in the ice. When he disappeared, Magnus draped an arm over the back of the velvet sofa and shifted closer to her. “I’m not drinking that,” she said.
After her gin and tonic, he understood that she’d want to keep a clear head. But one of them needed to keep up appearances, so he poured himself a drink. “I’ll be your cover.”
“You’re pretty keen on that, aren’t you?” she asked with a sly smile.
These earpieces hampered how he really wanted to speak to his partner, so Magnus removed his and dropped it into his leftover gin and tonic.
“Why did you do that?” Celeste asked.
Magnus leaned next to her and whispered, “Because I’m not used to being surveilled like this and I think it’s hindering our rapport.”
Someone from the command must have said something to her because she replied with a tired sigh. “He’s offline. Yeah, I know.”
This situation reminded him of their first meeting at Victor Sanderson’s penthouse. Celeste could keep all the bugs and wires she wanted, but he didn’t work like this. He liked being a little rogue when the time called for it.
While she watched Sebastian, he moved closer to her until his lips were right at her ear. “We have twenty minutes to wait on the man who’s going to give us our clue or heist or condolences,” he said in a soft voice. “And I want to spend it alone with you.”
“You can’t work with an audience, Mags?” she asked lightly, crossing her legs away from him.
“I’d prefer not to,” he admitted. He appreciated the added technology that Lawrence and Beatrice offered, but favored the old days when he could wind Celeste up and prime her with lust and adrenaline. “Where did you hide your tracker?”
She raked her fingers through her hair. “In a place where no one can see it,” she said in a light voice.
“Between your thighs?”
She shook her head.
“Somewhere slightly higher?” he whispered.
Her crossed legs shifted, or flexed, he couldn’t tell. She refused to answer his question.
He brushed his fingers down buzzed hair at the nape of her neck as he stared at her exposed décolletage. “I forgot to ask. Did you wake up refreshed this morning? Well rested?”
Celeste chuckled as she leaned forward and poured herself the glass of champagne she swore she wouldn’t drink. She brought her flute to her lips and murmured, “Better than I expected.”
“I’m glad I could help,” he said, knowing that the crew was getting one side of a bawdy conversation. “You look exquisite tonight. Have you brought more dresses like that?”
“Yes. You told us to pack for the next month. I figured a few of these might be helpful.”
The thought of her wearing another dress that drove him mad delighted the fuck out of Magnus. “Please tell me you brought the gown from Sanderson’s emerald reveal. The one with the slit up the thigh. I only got to explore it for a moment before we were interrupted.”
The blush she had slowly cultivated on her chest swiftly moved up her neck and settled in her brown cheeks. “I think that one is in the suitcase.”
He groaned against her ear. “Wear it to bed tonight. I want to peel it off your body.”
She shook her head. “I can’t reward bad behavior.”
He inhaled the sweet fragrance of the perfume coming from her neck. Gardenia... “You rewarded me last night. If you let me, I’ll give you more than my fingers.”
“I’m sure you could,” she said, keeping her gaze straight ahead. She rarely drank from her glass. Sure enough, she kept speaking in low tones behind its rim, only pretending to imbibe Sebastian’s gift. Celeste just needed something to busy her hands with. She tilted her head to the side and paused for a moment. “No, you’re not missing anything important. Magnus is flirting heavily,” she scoffed. “Is it working? Of course not.”
He smiled as he kissed her bare shoulder. “Of course not.” The crew couldn’t see the spreading blush or the clenched thighs like he could. Those subtle signs were rewarding enough.