Hugh Grant’s evil stunt double,Bene had quipped, and he was right. The features were a one-for-one match, minus the goofy charm.
The woman ahead of me curtsied, and I panicked. Was I expected to curtsy too? How the hell did one curtsy anyway, especially in heels? It was all I could do to keep my center of gravity over the damn things when I was upright.
Henrik flashed a little fang and tightened his grip on my arm. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you, darling.”
I stuck an elbow in his ribs. “And I have wooden stakes up both sleeves,darling.”
The couple proceeded into the house, and the host turned to us with a smile.
“Ronald Baumann,” he said, shaking Henrik’s hand.
“Henrik van Hoerde,” my “date” replied smoothly, then motioned to me. “Miss Maria Orlemann.”
Baumann’s eyes lit as he looked me over the way one studied a nude statue in a museum — pretending not to be interestedbut leering on the inside. That included a long, hard look at the scarf around my neck — a last-minute addition by my stylist, Delphine.
You’re posing as a vampire’s date,she’d explained, all matter-of-fact.And vampires’ dates get marks on their necks. So…
My skin crawled.
We couldn’t be sure Baumann would peg Henrik as a vampire at all, especially since he’d doused himself with expensive cologne. But I had to look the part in case Henrik’s cover was blown.
Baumann took my hand — literallytookit before I even offered — and grazed his lips over my knuckles.
“Isn’t she lovely,” he murmured to Henrik.
My fake smile threatened to slip, but I managed to keep it glued in place, mainly because the alternative — kneeing him in the balls — wouldn’t get us any closer to our objective.
Also, I would topple down the stairs if I tried kneeing anyone while perched on suicidal heels.
I caught the barest whiff of a canine scent in Baumann.
Wolf shifter,Bene had said.An especially nasty one too.
Baumann’s eyes traveled back up my body, and when his eyes met mine—
Boom!I was hit by an out-of-nowhere,brushed-by-moonlightmoment that opened a door on his soul. And, yikes. If I had any misgivings about this mission, they vanished, because all I saw were evil and greed.
Briefly, I wondered which of my ancestors that power stemmed from and what else they could do. Mostly, though, I clutched Henrik’s arm. Even a vampire was better than Baumann.
“Enjoy the party,” our host said, turning to his next guests.
And just like that, we were in. But boy, was I nervous.
“Now what?” I whispered to Henrik. “How do we get an invitation to wherever the art is?”
Henrik smirked. “Patience,ma belle. Patience.”
He looked around, oozing old-world mannerisms and…well,charmwould be an overstatement, but there was a certain appeal in his aloof bearing. Women were already eyeing him like he might be titled nobility.Dukethis,Princethat, or evenYour Highness. And hell, he might be.
“Champagne for you, señor? Señora?”
I nearly cheered at the familiar voice. Bene!
Henrik was about as comforting to have around as an arms dealer, but having Bene around helped. Marius would be even better, but Bene was a good start.
The lion shifter’s eyes danced, but he kept his expression neutral, reminding me to do the same.
“Or would you prefer sparkling water?” He held out a tray, jerked his eyes to the right, and dropped his voice. “Dobrov is the short guy in blue at three o’clock. He arrived with three big crates, which are in the library.” He jerked hiis eyes the other way. “Down that hallway, third room on the right. Two guards.”
