Page 3 of A Touch of Treachery
I slid my phone into my pocket, then reached for the briefcase.My fingers curled around the handle, and I blew out a tense breath, got to my feet, and headed toward the other agent.
Time to see if the thieves took the bait.
CHAPTER TWO
CHARLOTTE
Thethreethieveskeptheading toward me.I turned my back and strode away as though I hadn’t noticed them at all, much less the fact that they were focused on me like heat-seeking missiles streaking toward a target.
I reached the reception desk, and Iris stretched her arm out to the side.“This way, Charlotte.”
By this point, most folks had come in to work for the day, and the lobby was empty, except for some stragglers in line at the café.Good.Section 47 kept a tight lid on magical activities, so the general public had no idea paramortals and their powers even existed.I wanted to keep it that way, although I had a sinking feeling that things were going to get messy with the thieves.Then again, everything involving Henrika Hyde always got messy—and bloody—in the end.
I fell in step beside Iris.Maybe it was my synesthesia surging up and messing with my senses or just knowing the thieves were behind me, but the scuffing of my sneakers on the floor morphed into a squeaky, disjointed mantra in my mind.
Dan-ger, dan-ger, dan-ger...
I ground my teeth and ignored the unwanted noise.I glanced out of the corners of my eyes, looking for shadows coming up on the floor behind me, as well as listening for the quick slap of footsteps ...
Nothing happened.No shadows, no footsteps, no rough hands yanking the briefcase away.
Iris led me over to the elevator bank on the left side of the lobby and swiped a white keycard over a reader embedded in the wall.A light flashed green, and the door slid back.The two of us stepped into the elevator and turned around, facing out toward the lobby.
I tensed, my fingers curling even tighter around the briefcase handle.Any second now, the thieves were going to storm into the elevator and try to wrest the case away from me ...
But once again, nothing happened.
Iris hesitated, then swiped her keycard over the elevator panel.A light flashed green, and the door slid shut.
What was going on?Why hadn’t the thieves rushed forward and tried to take the briefcase?Had I done something to spook them?
I frowned at my reflection in the mirrored door.Auburn hair, blue eyes, pale skin, bright blue suit, matching briefcase.Everything about me was the same as when I’d left Section 47 headquarters, and I’d followed the mission plan to the letter.Enter the lobby, sit down, and let the thieves approach me.
But the thieves hadn’t made a move, which meant they had someotherplan to steal the briefcase.What was I missing?
I pulled out my phone to ask Desmond what was happening in the lobby, but a message on the screen warned that I didn’t have a signal.Even more alarming was the faint buzz of static crackling through my earbud.My stomach clenched.Someone was jamming our comms.
Iris let out a loud, raspy exhale, and a puff of warm, sour air wafted across my neck.I looked at the other agent out of the corners of my eyes.She stabbed a button to take us to the lower Vault level, but her hand trembled, just as it had earlier when she’d been reaching for the landline phone on her desk.
My heart sank right along with the elevator, but I turned toward her.“How did Henrika Hyde get to you?”
Iris blinked.“What?”
“How did Henrika convince you to try to steal this?”I jiggled the briefcase in my hand.“Did she blackmail you?Threaten your family?Or did you just take the money she offered?”
I didn’t bother keeping the disgust out of my voice, and Iris flinched at my harsh tone.“I don’t know what you’re talking about.I’ve never heard of Henrika Hyde.”
Lie, my inner voice whispered.In addition to pointing out hazards and dangers, my synesthesia also told me whenever someone was lying, whether it was a small, harmless fib (of course your new haircut looks great) to an outright whopper (of course I didn’t eat the last cookie).
Even without the telltale whisper, I still would have known Iris wasn’t telling the truth.Everyone at Section 47 had heard of Henrika Hyde, thanks to Desmond and me and our run-ins with the weapons maker over the last few months.
I looked at Iris, who stared right back at me.Her tongue swiped out over her lips, and a pink light flared around her body.The seconds ticked by in soft, charged silence, and the pink light intensified, morphing into a bloody red I knew all too well.
“Dammit,” Iris muttered.
She slapped a button on the panel, and the elevator screeched to a halt.The abrupt motion tossed me to the side, and my right shoulder banged against the side of the car.I lost my grip on the briefcase, which tumbled to the floor.
I cursed and reached for the briefcase, but Iris yanked a small gun out of the pocket of her suit jacket.
