Page 108 of The Wild Charge

“So is London, and they found us.”

“They knew to look for you there. No one knows you’re here, now, and there’ll be no record of our flight today, I’ve already made sure of that.”

She quirked a brief smile. “Thank you.”

Cassandra returned, exclaiming over the green marble and gold fixtures in the bathroom.

“I swear I’ve taken her places and shown her things,” Raven said with fond exasperation.

“But this isNew York,” Cassandra stressed.

“She has a point,” Ian said.

Alec arrived back at their table, frowning as he surveyed their security: Bruce and two of Ian’s other people seated at the neighboring table, not very inconspicuous in their black slacks and sport coats. “Raven, when’s your security arriving?”

“They’re meeting us back at the hotel. I figured why pay them while I still had use of yours?” She flashed a blinding-bright smile that left Alec snorting.

“I guess we should be off, then.” Ian stood, caught Bruce’s eye, and their party gathered their things and headed out to the waiting black SUV that Bruce had called and told to pull around.

He felt, if not lighter, then at least a tad less hectic internally. It had surprised him when Ghost grabbed him, yes, but it had surprised him when Raven called out of the blue and asked for a ride in his jet to New York. In his time on his own, post-Carla, and then in the years since, working alongside the Dogs, he’d known threat and trouble – all of them had. But it had never been quite like this. Never the rich and powerful lauded by society conning the FBI onto their side and simultaneously stalking modeling agents in London.

No, he didn’t feel lighter. But he felt like they were all working hard together, and that, in this tense situation, some of them were bound to act stupid, now and then.

That didn’t mean he was looking forward to seeing Ghost again, however.

Raven and Cassandra were seated in the third row behind them, and Ian had instructed the driver to take the scenic route so Cassandra could exclaim over the lights, which she did so with enthusiasm. Her conversation with Raven was loud enough that Alec could lean in close, hand on Ian’s knee, and say, “Something happened at the clubhouse, didn’t it? You weren’t this unsettled this morning.”

Once upon a time, that perception would have left Ian twitchy and resistant; he would have pushed him away. Now, he thought a drink from the minibar, a long shower, and talking over his disquiet might be the best cure.

“Tell you in just a bit,” he said, laying his hand over Alec’s, and earning a knee squeeze in return.

~*~

Back at the hotel, the lobby bustled with incoming guests, and already-checked-in guests heading out for a night on the town, high heels and wingtips clipping loudly across the marble floors, voices echoing in the nooks of the high ceilings.

Ian scanned the wide space for the fifth time, clocking that Bruce and co. were still stationed around them in a loose perimeter –notclocking an incoming group of hired security guards. More than a few guests were being tailed by men with thick arms and black suits, but none broke away to approach them. Raven had sent two texts, now, and had begun to shift her weight and chew at her lip in agitation.

She turned to Ian. “I’m sure they’ll be along any minute. You can–”

“We wouldn’t dream of it. We’ll wait until they’ve seen you safely into your room.” When he’d made the reservations, he’d been sure to secure a room for her security next door to the one she’d share with Cassandra, just as he always did for Bruce.

But as the minutes ticked by, and a phone call went unanswered at the agency, Ian’s dinner soured in his stomach. Something was wrong.

“Maybe…” Raven said, drawing it out, stress marking her face.

Ian shook his head. “We’ll go on up. If they arrive, they’ll notify you – and then you can fire them.”

In the hallway outside the girls’ room, a prickling up the back of Ian’s neck had him taking the keycard from Raven and passing it off to Bruce. “Just to be safe.”

The lock disengaged with a soft beep, and Bruce pushed inside. They followed…

And froze.

The room had been ransacked. The covers ripped off the bed, and the girls’ suitcases opened on the floor, their contents strewn across the carpet. A bottle of perfume had been smashed, and the concentrated scent of Chanel No. 5 rushed to meet them at the doorway.

“Oh my God,” Cassandra gasped.

“What the fuck?” Raven breathed.

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