12. Finley
Finley
Zander and I wandered around the party, sipping champagne and chatting with people I didn’t care even to remember their names.
Now I understood what Clarence was saying about people without a brain.
Some I could tell were drugged out of their minds enjoying the party to the fullest, while others downed drinks from the open bar like it was water.
For brief moments I felt like I could find common ground with someone until it all came crashing down when they found out I was a supernatural being.
“Kathleen, this is Finley, my mate,” Zander shared, introducing me to a woman who was wearing heels that might kill her with how she swayed. “Kathleen is the manager for the band we’re celebrating tonight. She’s been with them since the beginning.”
“That’s amazing,” I gushed, knowing that was the response she was going to be expecting. “You must be so proud of them. It’s really an accomplishment for you too, isn’t it? After all the hard work you’ve put in.”
Kathleen teetered forward as she narrowed her eyes to look at me.
“Sorry, there’s two of you, and I’m not sure which one is the real one,” she slurred.
“I’m so glad that someone finally recognized that I’m the one that got them to where they are.
Yeah, they have good music, but no one would listen to them until I made them keep their mouths shut about being supernaturals.
Who wants to root for people who feed off sex?
I mean, really, that’s just fucked up… am I right? ”
“Does she not realize we are supernaturals?” I asked Zander.
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “Do you see how drunk she is? I’m not sure she knows where she’s at, let alone who she’s talking to.”
“Did you know they were incubi? They are so rare and she’s saying there are five of them together hiding in plain sight?”
“Many supers live that way. Even if the world knows they exist, that doesn’t mean they want to live among them or support them,” Zander reminded me. “Why do you think I take so much time to educate?”
“Wait… oh shit, you’re Zander the werewolf,” Kathleen gasped. “Please don’t eat me for what I said. I promise I’m not a bigot. I just don’t think living off having sex with people is right. Oh, God, I think I’m going to hurl.”
Darting out of her way, I watched her tumble headlong over a couch, scattering a group of people who’d been sitting there. Then the sound of someone retching let me know she had indeed hurled.
“Well, I would say that is my cue to slip out while everyone is looking after the poor thing,” I said under my breath, knowing Zander would hear me.
He pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Please be safe, little dove. I love you.”
“I love you too, Zander. I’ll be back before you know it, don’t have too much fun without me,” I said, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before slipping into the crowd.
The upheaval of Kathleen’s disaster was so perfect it was almost as if I’d planned it myself. No one was paying attention to who was coming and going. Instead, they wanted pictures and videos of what was going on to share later on social media.
“I’m off. I promise to check in once things are done,” I said, reaching out to all my men before locking my connections down so they couldn’t interrupt me.
Once in the small lobby area where the bathrooms were along with the stair access, I double checked to ensure no one saw me and slipped through the door.
Then, hiking up my skirt, I yanked off my shoes and jogged quickly down to the tenth floor from the fifteenth.
Back in the hall, I slowed to an easy amble as I made a show of rubbing a hand over my forehead like I had a headache.
Reaching the room Ayla was in, I tapped on the door, which immediately opened, and entered.
“How’s the party?” she asked, perched on the edge of the king bed. “I bet it’s a glorious disaster like the ones I’ve watched on TV.”
“This is one of those times where I believe they’ve undersold the reality of it,” I shared as I turned to have her unzip me. “Things in the bathroom?”
“Yup, just as you packed them,” she answered. “I have to say, I do love your taste in knives. I’ve never thought of making them black so they can’t be seen.”
I left the door cracked, so we could still talk while I got ready.
Being naked in front of my mates was one thing, but others I wasn’t quite there yet.
“That’s a trick that I picked up from a vampire hunter I encountered on one of my jobs.
He told me even with perfect night vision, it was hard for them to see the blade.
Been using them ever since and it’s saved me more times than I can count. ”
Stepping into the catsuit, I shimmied it up my hips and settled into the rest of it before gliding the zipper, hiding every ounce of my skin from the base of my neck to my ankles.
The first stop of the night required me to wear a waiter’s uniform for a well-known French restaurant, so I donned the black dress pants and white button-down shirt with a black tie.
Hair placed in a high pony, I’d purposely kept my makeup light so I could transition right into this persona.
Taking one last glance at the full-length mirror in the bathroom to ensure you couldn’t see any of my weapons, I was ready.
Using my magic like Rath had taught me, I changed my hair color to a sandy blonde, making it even harder for anyone to recognize me.
My skill wasn’t high enough for me to use something like this on a job, but it would get me out of the hotel before I lost my hold on it.
Learning how to keep something active in the back of my mind was proving harder than anticipated.
Rath had told me it was because I was too controlling and I needed to just trust it would work.
Ayla was incredibly gifted with illusions and had managed to change her whole appearance as we walked out of the hotel.
No longer did she have the tattoos of her clan on her face or anywhere else on her body.
Her eyes were a more normal shade of blue, and her hair was black instead of navy blue.
She would have passed for anyone of Asian descent, never once considering her to be anything but human.
She promised to work with me on it, but for this mission, I was going to have to make do with the old-school way of diverting attention.
Once we exited the hotel, she went left, and I went right, each of us with two targets we needed to take care of. I had one at the restaurant, then the other was going to be slightly harder but proved to be far more interesting than slipping a drug in a drink.
The bus was on time, showing up ten minutes later than it should have, just like normal.
Hopping on, I swiped my pass and sat near the front, looking out the window.
It was much harder to trace someone using public transportation than it was a cab, so it was my default.
Four stops later, I got off and accidentally bumped into a man with a brown paper bag in his hands.
“Watch where you’re going bitch,” the man snapped, shoving me away from him.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” I apologized as I twisted out of the way, holding the brown bag instead of him. “Have a good rest of your night,” I called as the bus door closed.
Spinning on my heel, I headed off down the alley to the back entrance of the restaurant.
I removed the brown bag and looked at the bottle of Hennessy Paradis—a rare cognac that happened to be the biggest weakness for my target.
This restaurant normally carried a bottle just for him to enjoy, but no matter where they tried to order it, they just didn’t seem to have any in stock.
Word had gone out to the staff that if anyone knew a connection, they would be well rewarded for being able to acquire a bottle.
I banged on the back door as hard as I could without actually denting it. A few moments later, a busboy opened the door. “What do you want? We don’t feed beggars, so scram.”
“Do I look like a beggar?” I asked, flashing the bottle. “Word on the street is your boss is looking to make a trade for this.”
“Holy shit,” the busboy blurted, shoving the door open. “Hell yeah, he’s been looking for that. The guest who drinks it is even here tonight. Come on. I’ll take you to the boss.”
Easy as taking candy from a baby.
Passing through the kitchen, I found myself in an office with a portly balding man mopping sweat on his brow as he looked at his computer screen.
“Dennis, I got a lady here with something you need,” the busboy called, then motioned with my head to go in. “You better play the lotto tonight with how lucky you are,” he called as he walked away.
Dennis looked at me with panic-filled eyes. “What? What could you possibly have that I need other than a great ass?”
“If that’s how you’re going to treat someone with a bottle of Paradis, then I’m out of here,” I snapped, turning to leave.
“Wait,” Dennis blurted. “Show it to me. I’m not some schmuck you can just rip off with a pretty bottle and fancy label you printed off the internet.”
Handing over the bottle, the longer he looked at it, the wider his eyes got. “Thank fuck. This is the real deal. Oh, God, I thought I was going to have to sell my soul to get a bottle of this.”
“How much you paying?” I asked, crossing my arms. “That shit ain’t cheap.”
Dennis glared at me. “Like you paid for it, you probably stole it from wherever you work.”
“What does it matter where I got it? You now have it and the busboy mentioned he’s here. Maybe I need to take the bottle to him and ask him to buy it off me so he can drink it and take it home afterward,” I threatened.