Page 15 of Licence To Howl
‘Because,’ she answered simply, ‘a lot of supes from all over the world want that ring. It seemed prudent to keep our own interest secret. It makes for an easier life.’ She gave him a quick, hard glare. ‘Or at least it did until you involved yourself anyway.’
‘Solentino is not a supe,’ Devereau told her quietly. ‘But I do have reason to believe he could be a very dangerous man indeed. I think he’s some kind of terrorist whose ultimate agenda is financial rather than ideological. Whoever he is, he needs to be stopped. Lend me the ring. I promise you’ll get it back.’
‘You’re Devereau Webb. You’re more than capable of using your own peculiar charm to worm your way into this Solentino fellow’s inner circle without that ring.’
He put his thumbs into the throw which was wrapped round his waist and posed. ‘You think I’m charming then?’
‘Devereau –’
‘This is the fastest way to get to him, Scarlett. I don’t know what he’s planning or when but it has the potential to be bad.’
She gave him a searching look. Then she briefly closed her eyes. ‘I can’t believe I’m about to do this.’
Relief flooded through him and Devereau smiled. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’d better get it back.’
‘You will.’
‘I mean it.’
‘I promise, Scarlett.’
‘Five million euros isn’t chump change, even to Lord Horvath. If something happens to that ring, it’ll be my head on the block.’
She’d given him the perfect opening he needed without realising it. ‘Well,’ he demurred, ‘there is a simple way to ensure that you get it back and that it’s not damaged in the meantime.’
Scarlett looked at him. Then she began to shake her head. ‘Oh no. Definitely not.’
‘It makes sense. You already told me that you’ve kept your identity hidden. Nobody knows that you’re the one who bought the ring. Not to mention that we worked well together last time. You’ll be helping me to bring down more bad guys and maintaining the sanctity of your Lord’s not inconsiderable investment.’ He smiled. ‘Of course, it’s up to you what you decide to do but the offer is there. Work with me and win the day. It’ll be fun.’ He added a cheesy wink for good measure. Sarah Greensmith would be apoplectic at the thought that he was involving Scarlett but what the MI5 officer didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Besides, this wasn’t just about getting to spend more time with Scarlett. She was clever and strong and resourceful - and they really had been a great team last time they’d joined forces.
She sighed and raised her eyes heavenward. ‘I was planning to spend a few days enjoying the sights of Rome before I headed home, not infiltrating some daft gang and pretending to be some idiotic hero.’
Devereau waved a hand. ‘Okay. It’s your call.’ He could afford to be blasé; he already knew what she was going to say. He could read it in her eyes.
Scarlett muttered to herself. ‘This is about protecting my Lord’s investment.’ She shook her head. ‘Fuck it. Alright. I’ll work with you. Only for a few days, however. Then I’m taking my damned ring from whoever has it and going home to London. Got that?’
Devereau nodded vigorously, trying to keep the elation off his face. ‘Absolutely.’
It was all he could do not to fist pump the air and jump up and down. It had nothing to do with the ring itself. Screw the ring. His delight was because Scarlett was prepared to trust him with it - and they’d be spending more time together in close quarters. For reasons he couldn’t quite articulate to himself, that meant the world.
Chapter Seven
Before she senthim packing for the night with a promise to meet him first thing in the morning and hand over the Ring Of All Seasons, Scarlett lent Devereau some clothes. He wanted to ask why she had men’s clothing hanging up in her Italian wardrobe and hoped they belonged to some inconsequential vamp or one of the armed goons. He knew better to voice such questions aloud, however, and decided to be grateful that he didn’t have to walk through the streets of Rome with nothing more than an embroidered throw wrapped around him. It was colder now than it had been before and fancy dress wasn’t his style, whether this was the right city for a toga party or not. He was even permitted to leave via the lift and the front doors. It certainly beat climbing. Devereau declined the offer of a taxi, however. He needed the walk to clear his head.
The moon hung low in the dark sky. Devereau put his hands in his pockets and began to whistle in a bid to distract himself from his more turbulent thoughts. It didn’t work. No matter how hard he tried to put her out of his mind, Scarlett sidled in again. He’d lost his head over a one fanged vampire who didn’t seem to want him in return at all. Not any longer anyway. He thought of several ex-girlfriends who had frequently complained that he’d held them at arm’s length, and he knew each and every one of them would piss themselves laughing at the thought that he was now a lovesick puppy. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about Scarlett that had him so smitten. She was beautiful – that went without saying – and she oozed sex appeal whether she was dressed in a tight leather catsuit or loose fitting loungewear. Her single fang gave her a prepossessing quirkiness and the allure of her glittering dark eyes, which always seemed to reflect some kind of special secret that she held tantalisingly out of reach, was difficult to forget. It wasn’t her appearance that kept him up at night, however. He wanted her to like him and he wasn’t convinced that she did, even if he was sure that part of her still lusted after him. Scarlett was intelligent and quick-witted, with the sort of confidence that took no prisoners. She knew what she wanted out of life. Unfortunately for Devereau, what he wanted was her.
He strode across the wide boulevard in the direction of his hotel, mulling over various attempts at witty repartee which he could dazzle her with when they met up again the next morning. The restaurants and cafes looked as if they were beginning to close up for the night but he reckoned he’d still be able to order room service when he got back. A cold shower and some hot food were definitely top of his priority list.
Devereau turned down the narrow street which led away from the bright lights and tired waiters. He’d barely gone five feet when a sudden chilling howl pierced the air. He only just managed to stop his feet from stuttering along the pavement. The howl had come from somewhere over to his right. He was surprised but he certainly wasn’t scared. There was, however, no doubt in his mind that the echoing call with its edge of menace was aimed at him. The full moon was scant days behind him so there was no chance it was a werewolf who’d lost control. Any and all such lupine energy would have already been expelled. Equally, no matter how relaxed the Italian authorities were about werewolves, he didn’t need to check a guidebook to know that they wouldn’t usually permit supes to use intimidating behaviour in the centre of Rome. In any case, the last thing he would allow himself to do was look afraid. Werewolves he could handle.
He put his hands in his pockets and affected a nonchalant saunter. Come on then. Come at me if you dare. He slowed his steps a fraction to encourage whoever was out there to approach. If there was indeed going to be some kind of showdown, he wanted to make it snappy. He was too damned hungry to hang around here for long.
Another keening howl ripped through the night air. Interestingly, however, it was from a different wolf. There was more than one of them out there then. Devereau raised his head slightly, attempting to discern through scent alone how many werewolves he’d have to deal with. His nostrils flared as he caught several unmistakable trails. Not one werewolf. Not two either. It was difficult to say exactly but he reckoned there was a good baker’s dozen of furry monsters out there. There was something oddly heartening about that. He hated it when people underestimated him. It was a pleasant surprise to be taken seriously for a change, even if it was by complete strangers who didn’t appear happy by his presence.
Devereau crossed over the next street and passed under a red and white striped awning. As soon as he emerged from underneath it, he spotted a flicker of movement over to his right. Hello. Then a shadow danced somewhere to his left. Actually, make that several shadows. He looked round. This was a narrow quiet street and there were no pedestrians or passing cars. These werewolves had picked their spot with care. Devereau nodded once to himself and then strode into the centre of the road. He spread his arms out wide and turned a full 360 degrees on the spot. Now he would wait.
It didn’t take long.
