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“All guests must use the side entrance.” He pointed to a door behind him.
“Of course.” She’d known that, but the change in rooms was supposed to be a well kept secret and she hadn’t wanted to let on her awareness of the location switch.
It paid to have spies on the House of Oolun staff willing to reveal anything for the right amount of credits. Adjusting her direction, she walked at a sedate pace toward the side door. When she entered, the low murmur of multiple conversations flowed around her.
Circular tables set for the elaborate dinner planned filled the room. Crystal like lights cast ribbons of blue and yellow against the brilliant white floor tiling. Holographic images flickered along the walls, showing members of the House of Oolun. Jarad’s fake, smiling face featured prominently in many, curdling the meal Seraphina ate this morning.
She maneuvered around the guests and found the table she’d been assigned. Two others were already seated. Green faces flushed from alcohol, their braided hair hung about their face as they eyed her across the table.
“I’m Calson,” one said.
Voice slurring, the other leaned his forearm on the table and winked. “My name is Vasuv.”
“I’m Herara and it is my pleasure to meet the both of you,” she answered.
They responded to her sultry voice and gazed at her with lust. She flicked her straight hair over her shoulder and upped the wattage of her smile. Though not a beauty in this morph, they seemed to be attracted nonetheless and she’d use that to her advantage.
***
“This is Hunter One. No sign of target,” Rook reported, eyeing the abundance of food being served to the guests in the banquet for the House of Oolun. Apparently, this was a huge celebratory moment and one the citizens took joy in.
“No sign of target.”
“All clear.”
“Copy that.”
The others chimed in their status. Rook hadn’t expected any different. Despite the confirmations, he suspected Seraphina was in this room, dining with the others and planning her attack against Jarad. He’d done a little research on Allagi and managed to learn one irrefutable fact—their ability to morph went beyond the physical.
They could change their mannerisms, their voices, and any other method one would typically use to identify an individual in disguise. No other race could do what they did because the change occurred at such a base level and they mastered the art of mimicry from childhood.
If Seraphina was here, and he had no reason to doubt she wasn’t, she’d done an excellent job of getting through security and avoiding their attention. He scanned the room again, hoping for some sign or trait he’d recognize from the woman who stayed on his mind.
Each table sat five guests. Jarad along with his father the Ambassador, his uncle and two cousins sat at semi-circular table, giving everyone as much of a view of the political family as possible in this setting.
Food had been triple-checked by security for tampering and monitored closely. He wasn’t sure she’d use poison since her plan before on the rooftop included a weapon. They couldn’t rule it out and scanners at the main door were to prevent that.
“Blonde female to the right of you, Hunter Two,” Hahn murmured.
Rook automatically followed the direction. He knew Kjar stood across the room with a line of sight to Jarad. To his right, a blonde sauntered in wearing a minuscule gold dress. Her long legs were shapely and she walked smoothly in the strappy boots with high heels.
He tried to catch her eye to see if there was any spark.
“Should we move in, Hunter One?” Dorian asked.
From the back of the banquet room, Dorian strolled toward Kjar’s location, his hand hovering over his weapon. Rook tensed and his gaze went back to the woman. “Stand down. Let’s wait.”
His gut said it wasn’t her. The blonde sat at a table and everyone greeted her with warm smiles and welcome. Rook paid close attention to the men in attendance as well. She’d proven to be capable of changing into both genders as her use of his face in her escape had proved.
A Prentian barked out a loud laugh, drawing eyes his way. His green braids clacked together as he slapped the table in humor and those seated with him joined in with boisterous chuckles. Rook narrowed his eyes. Wouldn’t it be the perfect trick for Seraphina to be loud and obnoxious? No one would think an assassin would want eyes on them.
“Watch table six. Tall Prentian in brown shirt and beaded necklace,” Rook instructed.
“Eyes on him,” Kjar said.
Though they watched everyone closely, they couldn’t pinpoint anything untoward. Everyone appeared to belong. Everyone passed the screenings.
Jarad made the rounds, speaking with those in attendance, shaking hands and hugging the bigger donors to his cause despite their warnings to avoid physical contact.
