Page 111 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
A practiced smile crosses my lips. "That's correct."
He compares the invitation to my face, then back again. My breath catches. Veronica's background details swim through my mind; technology consultant, MIT graduate, recently moved from New York.
"Enjoy your evening." He waves us through.
We glide past velvet ropes. Remy's light touch at my lower back guides me forward as he nods to a silver-haired man in passing, the gesture so natural it seems like recognition.
"You seem weirdly comfortable in this crowd." His posture shifts subtly to match the old-money swagger around us, movements too perfect, too practiced. "Is it because you were—"
Remy's arm tightens almost imperceptibly. His smile never falters.
"Yes. But let's keep that between us, yeah?"
Interesting. The earpiece comes alive in my ear, each word sharp and clear without the feedback that ruined the old gear.
"Status check, Vanessa." Asher's voice slides through me like warm honey, controlled and possessive. The scattered thoughts in my mind instantly align, like iron filings to a magnet.
I brush my hair back casually, activating the response function. "All systems green. No threats detected."
"Keep it that way." He's clipped, professional, but concern runs underneath.
Remy guides me deeper into the ballroom. Conversations about yacht upgrades and vacation properties float around us. My attention sharpens, scanning faces, mapping exits, noting camera angles.
A server moves between groups, collecting empty glasses. On his belt: a ring of electronic key cards. My heartbeat quickens.
"Three o'clock. Server with the access badges."
"I see him." Remy's smile never wavers. "Ready to dance?"
Remy sweeps me onto the dance floor with practiced ease, weaving between couples. My gaze tracks the server while maintaining a dazzling smile, the taste of champagne still fizzing on my tongue.
"You're actually a pretty decent dancer." Surprise colors my whisper.
"One of us needs to be." Remy winks. "Here he comes. The server's path will take him behind the dessert table in approximately forty seconds."
The trajectory forms in my mind. "I need fifteen seconds alone with that keycard."
As the song ends, Remy releases me with a flourish. "Mingle. I'll create a diversion in three minutes near the west entrance. Security will look that way."
We part ways. Through the crowd, Asher's surveillance through security cameras tracks my every movement. The knowledge of his watchful presence wraps around me like a familiar embrace.
"Nessa." His voice sounds low and tense through my enhanced earpiece. "The primary target hasn't arrived yet. Keycard first."
"Copy that."
An older gentleman with a Winchester Foundation board member pin catches my attention. Sliding into conversation, I channel my most charming self.
"The architectural details in this building are fascinating. I'm particularly interested in how they've integrated modern security with the historical structure."
"Oh, you should see the east wing." He responds eagerly. "Original marble throughout, but completely retrofitted with state-of-the-art systems."
Half my attention engages with architectural chitchat while tracking the server's movements. The board member sketches the building layout on a cocktail napkin, unwittingly providing exactly what's needed.
"The server accesses are remarkably discrete. You'd never know they're there unless—"
Lightning illuminates the ballroom through floor-to-ceiling windows, followed by thunder that vibrates the crystal chandeliers. Rain pounds the glass with growing fury.
"Quite the storm brewing." A glance at my watch. Two minutes until Remy's diversion.
