Page 64 of Hunted

“I was just thinking of that. He thought he was fucking Al Capone. Remember how his study was all decked out like a movie set for a 1930s mob movie?”

“Gods, yes. That antique safe was awesome, though. And so much fun to crack.” She smiled at him. “That was a good night. The best.”

He pulled her closer. “I really thought that was the start of our new life.”

She raised her hand as if she were about to touch his cheek, and then remembered her character just in time. “I know.” She permitted herself a small Angela Croft smile. “Our Bonnie and Clyde life, driving across the country pulling heists, one step ahead of the law.”

Gunn laughed. “That wasn’t exactly what I envisioned, but it does sound hot.”

And if they weren’t careful, it really would end up being their life.

But he was beginning to think that wouldn’t be so bad.

After a couple of dances, they had to pick up their mantle as operatives again. They separated to check out the exact location of the security detail, and their cameras. Gunn would be escorted to the auction room, but Mikey would have to make it upstairs on her own, avoiding cameras and guards, to find the little girl’s location and get her out before the auction ended.

Luckily, the second floor wasn’t completely off-limits to guests. There was a ladies’ ‘cloakroom’ up there—an outer room with sinks, vanities and makeup mirrors, couches, and even ironing boards and hair dryers, plus a maid to help with any issues. Plus two toilet rooms.

Mikey catalogued it all while checking her makeup. When she left, she surveyed the rest of the area. In addition to the two guards on the landing, there was one stationed further down the hall past the cloakroom, where it led deeper into the second floor. Apparently, no guests were allowed beyond that point.

And none seemed to be allowed over to the other side at all.

So she was going to have to get past at least one security checkpoint to get upstairs, where the little girl was likely being held. Probably on the third floor, close to the roof.

She headed back downstairs to meet Gunn, glass in hand, plans and scenarios running through her head. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she was approached by a waiter with a tray.

“Canape, miss? The crab puffs are quite delicious.”

Michelangela choked on her champagne, spilling it down her dress.

She knew that voice. DB, teenage black dragon of the Al-Maddeiri clan, the greatest worldwalker and potentially the most powerful sorcerer in Draken history.

And the absolute last person who should be in the middle of their mission.

Chapter 28

DB dabbed at her dress with a cloth napkin. “Oh, dear,” he said.

Oh dear? He’d never said that in his entire life. “What’s going on?” she whispered. “Where’s Tristan?”

She’d talked to her uncle briefly a couple of days ago, and given him the bare bones of the situation at Outlaw Ridge. He’d promised to check out Thanatos and get back to her.

DB just looked at her innocently. “I’m so sorry, Miss. Won’t you come into the back, and I’ll see if one of the maids can help you get this off before it stains?”

Michelangela didn’t know whether to laugh, or smack him. But she followed him, because whatever he was doing here, it was important. DB might be only sixteen, but he’d survived on his own, traveling between worlds, since he was twelve, and he had powers most dragons only dreamed of.

And he always had a reason for what he did.

She followed him to a concealed service door under the stairs, and down a short hall into a storage closet.

As soon as the door was locked behind them, she gave him a hug. He was as tall as a grown man now, though he still had the wiry slenderness of youth. And he was drop-dead gorgeous, like everyone in his clan. Black wavy hair, and eyes so green they were startling. If anything about him screamed ‘not human’, it was those eyes.

“Damn, it’s good to see you!” she said.

He hugged her back, possibly a tiny bit too enthusiastically. DB had had a crush on her since he was fourteen.

Michelangela disengaged herself, and he looked her over. “You too,” he said. And then he added wickedly, “Nice dress. It makes your boobs look awesome.”

Mikey knew he was just messing with her to see what he could get away with. Typical teenager. She made a buzzer sound and said, “Utterly inappropriate. You’d think that three years in civilization would have cured you of that.”