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“No, I drove in with my trainer.”
“I have a car.” After his jet landed, Rylee had a car waiting for him.
The big handsome werewolf could easily haul her off. No one escaped a werewolf. Fortunately, her father had taught her a few tricks. Time to put them to good use. She went into her room and showered, while he waited in the bar. Probably drinking vodka. She noticed her phone had a message.
Rylee texted. “Nik is meeting you at Fireside Café at three p.m., but he might be late due to traffic.”
So Dagger was Nik. In her line of work, she trusted no one. Especially agents who didn’t follow protocol. He saved her life, but perhaps, he was not the real Nik. Could he be a double agent for the GRU? Maybe he had an ulterior motive? Yet, he did a poor job of hiding his Russian accent. She texted back. Will do.
Emma opened her suitcase and took out the vaporo, aerosol spray that hid scents from werewolves. She smiled. The better to get away. She’d leave her boots and riding breeches on the bed to keep her scent in the room. Rylee might be pissed, but she would only be delayed a day or two. If the assassin returned to the stables to finish the job, she’d be ready. Avoiding Nik so he didn’t interfere was the problem. Rylee had some nerve sending a newbie after her.
Emma hadn’t earned her nickname Cloak for no reason. She reached into her suitcase and took out a disguise, that of an older woman with a cane. She’d simply take the elevator and call a cab. She put on the hairpiece and formed the latex to her face and looked in the mirror. This should work. She pulled on some clothes and with the cane, she moved out into the hallway to the elevators.
Walking slowly through the lobby, she glimpsed Nik in the bar where he sat nursing a cup of coffee. Hmm. No vodka. So much for stereotypes. When she exited the hotel, she noticed a man in a black sedan near the hotel entrance. He watched as people came in and out. Was he waiting for her? Hmm. Maybe I won’t have to go back to the barn.
The man could be here to pick up a client, not such a strange thing. He rolled down his window to stare at her. Dark glasses, a curly federal agent earpiece. This man was not a limo service. He turned his gaze from her. She was an old woman after all, not agent Cloak.
Her small purse held her gun. Did he even know who hired him? Nonetheless, it was a start.
Emma used her cane, tapping it on the hood to get his attention. “Excuse me, are you looking for passengers?”
“Watch the paint, lady.” He sneered. “I’m waiting for a friend.”
“Oh. The lobby is empty, except for a young woman, a rider that must be going to a horse show.”
He narrowed his eyes and got out of his vehicle. “Yes, that’s my friend.”
She shrugged. “Oh, well I’ll have to call a cab.”
Emma drew her weapon as he turned to head toward the hotel. “Arms up and slowly turn around.”
He laughed and turned. “What the fuck, grandma?”
“Place your right hand on the car and with your left hand drop your weapon.”
He sneered, but did as told and lay down a Glock. “Who the hell are you?”
“Who sent you to kill Emma York?”
“Never heard of her.” He moved closer and she whacked him in the groin.
“Oof!”
“We’re taking a walk. Inside. The bar. One wrong move and I’ll kill you,” she lied. More likely she’d shoot him in the kneecap or finish neutering him. They needed him receptive and conscious to talk. Once inside her room, Nik could use his alpha mind trick and have a chat with him.
Holding his groin, he slowly made his way to the hotel entrance.
Chapter Two
Nik poured another cup of coffee and returned to his seat at the bar. Where was Emma? The lobby was empty except for an old woman leaving the hotel. Very odd. The woman used a cane, but she didn’t appear to need support. He stared out the glass door. What was going on? The old woman walked behind a man, and Nik caught the glint of silver beneath her purse. A gun. The man limped and reluctantly entered the lobby. He recognized the man’s scent. The assassin.
What the…? His fangs erupted, but he quickly focused on remaining human.
“Hey.” She winked and tilted her head toward the elevator.
Despite her mask, he’d recognize Emma’s bright blue eyes anywhere. “Babushka, looks like you found your caregiver.” Excellent disguise, but why hide her scent?
“Grandmother works better, Mr. Obvious. This way, sonny,” she said as she directed him toward the elevator.
