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He leaned back in his chair. “Report.”
“The operation went off as expected. Kral is in one of your cells.” As Moreau surely knew, since he had access to any security cam in the building.
“The tranquilizer worked?”
“Yes. He was out for twelve minutes and a few seconds.”
Moreau stroked his mustache. “Good, good. You have his phone?”
“It’s in the ops room safe.”
“All right. I want you to take a photo to send to his father.”
“Any message?”
“Just bring me the phone after you take the photo. I prefer to do it myself.” A small smile.
The man was enjoying this. That surprised me, because I hadn’t been able to uncover any bad blood between Moreau and Karoly Kral. As far as I knew, Moreau was involved only as a favor to Victorine Tremblay.
“Will do,” I said. “But after that, I’m off duty.”
Moreau sometimes forgot I didn’t actually work for him. Typical vampire arrogance. But my paycheck came from Slayers, Inc. I’d been embedded in his coven for this job and would be leaving in a week, although only we two knew that.
He inclined his head.
“If that’s everything—?” I started to my feet.
“No. Primus de Froulay has asked to see you.”
I sank back onto the chair. “The Paris primus?” I asked as if I didn’t know.
“Yes.” Moreau scrutinized me like I’d sprouted wings and announced I could fly. I could almost hear him thinking: What would de Froulay want with her?
I kept my expression milk-bland.
Moreau waited a few more beats, and when I didn’t say anything else, he said, “The primus is sending a car for you. Two a.m.”
The location of Leo’s lair was a closely guarded secret, one I wasn’t supposed to know.
I nodded. “I’ll be ready.”
“And Reaper? Wear something more suitable. He’ll expect it.” Moreau eyed my Outlaw Country T-shirt and well-worn tactical pants with that special revulsion only a Parisian can summon for a fashion disaster like me. “The clothes I keep for guests. Help yourself.”
Moreau was wrong. Leo de Froulay wouldn’t expect it, because he knew me.
“Sure.” I touched my temple in a mock salute. “I love playing dress-up.” Not.
The enforcer’s lips pressed into an irritated line. He disliked my irreverent attitude, but hey, a girl takes her fun where she finds it.
Back in the ops room, my mood took a drive. I retrieved the phone from the safe and headed down to the dungeon.
If I had my way, I’d stay far, far away from Zaq Kral.
I’d had that unsettled feeling all day. I’d returned to the camera feeds in Zaq’s cell over and over until Moreau had called me to his office.
Now the twisted, tangly sensation was back and growing worse. The closer I got to Zaq’s cell, the slower I walked until I felt like I was pushing my body through water.
For chrissake, Ridley. Chill. He’s just a job. In a week, this will be over.
