Page 12 of Licence To Howl
There were eight cars in total, including the large black monstrosity he’d followed in and the Bentley he’d been hiding behind. Not all of the cars were showy and expensive, however. Devereau noted a small blue Fiat and a nondescript white van, the latter of which was showing signs of rust around its wheel arches. Interesting.
He padded over to the black car and raised his head to peer inside. The windows were tinted so it was difficult to see much and, in any case, he doubted anything had been left inside. With a half shrug, he cricked his neck. Then he transformed back into human form.
Without the comfort of his fur to keep him warm, Devereau almost immediately started shivering. Unfortunately, the bonus of opposable thumbs and hands which could twist doorknobs were more useful right now than his more obvious lupine abilities. Stark naked, he walked up to the plain door set at the far end of the car park and placed his ear against it. He couldn’t hear a thing. He licked his lips and, with slow deliberate movements designed to mask as much sound as possible, he opened it a fraction.
Soft light spilled out, in sharp contrast to the harsh overhead lights of the carpark. He paused for another moment, listening again. Then he opened the door wider and stepped through. At least here there was some carpet. It would allow him to proceed almost entirely silently. And, he smirked, it was much more pleasant on his bare tootsies.
He walked forward, unsure yet whether he was in a large house or a block of expensive apartments. It didn’t really matter either way. He could smell the combined scents of the four men who’d not long passed this way so he knew he’d be able to track them to wherever they’d gone without too much difficulty. The only worrisome part was whether he would be noticed. If there weren’t any security guards or other residents around, then there would certainly be CCTV. The expensive cars in the carpark behind him all but demanded it.
At the far end of the corridor there was another heavy door. Taking care yet again, Devereau opened it an inch and peered out. He glimpsed a single lift to the right and thought he recognised the straight back of the man who’d acted as proxy at the auction. Neither the two armed guards nor the driver were in view. Devereau glanced up and noted not merely one but three carefully positioned security cameras. Hmmm. He doubted there were any blindspots which he could sneak through undetected.
He remained where he was, watching the lift carefully. It dinged open and the proxy stepped inside. As he turned and pressed one of the floor buttons, Devereau managed to note that he was still carrying the box containing the ring in his hands. Then the lift doors smoothly closed.
Set above the lift itself was a small LED display. Devereau watched the numbers as the lift rose up through the building. Five, six, seven, eight … Then he heard footsteps approach from the other side of the lobby. Come on, come on. Eleven, twelve … thirteen. There. Unlucky number thirteen. The footsteps drew nearer. In the nick of time, Devereau hastily closed the door and darted back to the carpark. This was a lot of risky running around for one damned ugly piece of jewellery. He’d have to make sure that it would be worth it.
Chapter Six
Now that hewas in a position to look around, Devereau was unimpressed with the building and its immediate surroundings. The area was ringed by a high stone wall which had been coated with anti-climb paint that would make it nigh on impossible to scale even for someone of his abilities. The only way in or out was via the remote controlled gates which he’d snuck in through while hunkered behind the car.
Within the walls, there was an overly ornate fountain set in one corner of the narrow landscaped gardens and a small outdoor gym that didn’t look as if it received any sort of action. The grass was manicured so neatly and with such precision that it appeared sanitised to the point of ridicule. The building itself wasn’t any better. He might have been charmed by the rest of Rome that he’d seen so far but this place was like a Disneyfied version. Carved sandstone that was too pristine to be anything other than wholly modern, random jutting blocks with whorls and curves which were simply too … perfect, and elaborate balconies that he supposed were meant to be romantic and inspired by Romeo and Juliet but instead looked like incongruous afterthoughts. The entire structure lacked the character of the other nearby buildings although at least the anti-climb paint didn’t extend to the main structure itself. Devereau was certain the rooms inside would be large, airy and filled with ostentatious gilt features and uncomfortable furniture. He’d seen similar attempts at design in London. It was intended to inspire awe and admiration but actually ended up being both dull and cold. Whoever lived here had far more money than taste. But then he already knew that from what he’d seen of the ring.
If he hadn’t been naked and it hadn’t been December, he might have waited around a bit longer and spent more time working out the lay of the land. However, his teeth were starting to chatter and he was keen to get this entire operation over and done with as quickly as possible so he could get back to his hotel and get some clothes on. At least the building’s design would make it easy to scale – and the physical exertion would warm him up. Heading for the side of the building, where there were no security cameras and there was less chance his mountaineering attempt would be noticed, he jumped up, using the overhanging curves of the lowest balustrade to pull himself up. He swung onto the first balcony. There was a glimmer of light from beyond the closed curtains which he completely ignored. Reminding himself not to look down, he balanced on the edge of the balcony wall before stretching up for the next section. With his muscles straining, he continued to clamber up.
‘Go to Rome,’ he muttered to himself. ‘It’ll be fun. You’ll be an international super spy saving the world from the threat of an evil gang intent on wrongdoings. You’ll be a hero. And you’ll even get to climb up the side of an ugly building while stark bollock naked. What could be better?’
His foot landed on a jutting curl of sandstone. The moment he braced his weight on it so he could spring up to the next section, there was a loud cracking sound. It was going to give way. Cursing, he sped up, leaping upwards as the stone gave way and fell to the ground with a painfully loud crash. Oops. This stupid building was definitely not his sort of thing. Devereau hastily hauled himself up the last few metres before any security guards with big guns came to investigate the noise. The sooner he did what he’d come here to do, the better.
He planted his feet on the relative safety of the balcony belonging to the thirteenth floor and took a moment to catch his breath. Getting up here had been one thing but he doubted he’d find it quite so easy to climb back down the same way. He’d have to find an alternative route for his escape. He’d work something out. He usually did.
Devereau sidled along the wide balcony to the other side. The curtains here were also closed but the floor to ceiling glass door was open a fraction, probably to let in some fresh air. He paused for a moment, listening. There was a low murmur of voices but they were coming from further away, muffled by at least one interior wall. As satisfied as he could be that the room beyond was empty, he gripped the glass door and slid it further open so he could get inside. At least it moved soundlessly. Maybe there was something to be said for tasteless design that cost the earth after all.
Keeping his own movements slow and cautious, he planted one foot inside then the other. He held his breath and side-stepped, creating as few ripples in the heavy curtains as he possibly could. The moment he emerged from them into the large living room and expelled his breath, however, he froze. That scent. Fucking hell.Fuckinghell.
There was a loud click as the safety was thumbed off from a gun. Then a voice barked at him from the doorway. ‘Don’t move.’
Devereau wasn’t planning on it. He remained where he was while one of the armed guards from the auction strode towards him, the muzzle of his handgun raised.
‘You’ve made the biggest mistake of your life, boyo,’ the man said, his face twisting into a snarl.
Actually, Devereau doubted that very much. His evening was already looking up.
‘Put your hands up,’ he ordered.
‘Either,’ Devereau said, ‘you want me to put my hands up or you want me not to move. You can’t have it both ways.’
From the man’s expression, he was quite prepared to put a bullet in Devereau’s skull and smile while doing it.
‘Hands up,’ he repeated.
Devereau did as he was told. ‘I’m clearly not a threat,’ he said. ‘I’m not carrying any weapon and I’m not even wearing any clothes. You’re over-reacting while I stand here shivering to death. I’m shrivelling up from the cold.’ He flicked his eyes down his own body. ‘As you can see for yourself.’
Another voice drifted through from beyond the doorway. ‘Devereau Webb. You’re still a moany bastard.’
Devereau smiled. ‘Hi Scarlett. Fancy meeting you here.’
There was a loud, exasperated sigh and then she stepped into the light. Her dark hair was loose, curling round her shoulders, and she was dressed casually, in a simple tunic and trousers.
‘Let me deal with this, boss,’ the armed guard growled. ‘I’ll make sure you never see this man again.’
