Page 18 of Lone Wolf

I just incline my head.

“Very well.” Hadria’s cool, silvery eyes are difficult to hold, and I find myself staring ahead, as though I’m a military recruit and she is my superior officer.

It’s not so different, I suppose.

Hadria explains our mission. The Syndicate has been hired to plant surveillance equipment in the private office of a nightclub owner. The point is surveillance, not bloodshed. No killing. Nofighting, even. We’ll be working undercover.

Disappointment makes me want to sigh, but I keep my face still. Beside me, I can feel energy bristling off Sunny. She’s pulled her hair into a thick French braid and tonight, for once, she’s wearing all-black like me. I suppose those things are her concessions to professionalism.

And then Hadria looks us head to toe and says, “You’ll have to change, of course. Something appropriate for two young women going out dancing. Make it loud and memorable—the more memorable the clothes, the less memorable the face. Understand?”

Sunny’s face has lit up with a grin. “Perfectly,” she says.

Once again, I just nod.

“Lyssa will take you to wardrobe. A car will be waiting for you downstairs in one hour. Make sure you’re ready by then. And let me be clear: this is a test for both of you. You must work together as partners.” She stares at me, and I can’t help but stare back. “We have no lone wolves in the Styx Syndicate. Understood?”

“Understood,” I grit out. I can’t argue, though I want to. The Wolf has her own partner these days.

As we turn to follow that Wolf, Lyssa, to wardrobe, Sunny casually bumps my shoulder. “Hey, partner,” she murmurs, “I bet you’ll look incredible all dolled up.”

I stiffen at the contact, ignoring the flash of heat that runs through me at her comment. “Just remember we’ll be there to do a job, not have fun.”

“Sure. But if we have a little fun along the way, where’s the harm?”

This is going to be a fucking disaster.

“This is going to be fucking amazing!” Sunny whoops as she bounces out of the Syndicate town car and onto the sidewalk. I shuffle over to the car door more slowly, with one last glance at the driver, one of the Syndicate’s regulars, an older man with a fatherly air who smiles at me in the mirror. “Have fun,” he says, as though Sunny and I really are off for a night of dancing.

I just give him an up-nod and slide out after Sunny. She’s waiting for me and practically vibrating with excitement. And I have to admit, it’s hard to take my eyes off of her. She’s wearing a short, crimson dress that catches light with every movement,gold jewelry flashing at her neck and wrists. Her amber eyes are lined with bold kohl, making them seem even more luminous than usual. Her only concession to practicality are the sturdy boots at the end of her fishnet stocking-clad legs, but somehow she makes them work with the rest of the outfit.

She looks like she belongs here—like she was made for nights like this.

I went for something a little more practical: skintight, black pants that allow me to kick to my full extension (I tested), a black tank, and boots. Lyssa suggested a leather jacket, and made me slick my hair back with gel.

I kind of like the hair. I was relieved when they allowed me all-black, too.

“Those pants look so good on you,” Sunny gushes. “Sparkly!”

“They’re black,” I say flatly.

“And sparkly.”

I say nothing to that, because she’s right. I sure wasn’t going to wear anything girlie tonight, but when Lyssa offered me a choice between leather pants and these, I took these. I said it was because they allowed more movement.

But really…it was the sparkles.

Sparkles were my only reward at Grandmother’s house. I was allowed to decorate my room as I saw fit, unlike the other assassins, and I still flush to think that Lyssa and Scarlett must have seen that room, an explosion of sparkly pink teen angst.

I’ve stuck with black for the whole time I’ve been with the Syndicate. Clothes. Room. Mood. But now and then, I catchmyself wistfully thinking about the more colorful decor I used to have.

Maybe that’s why—occasionally—I find Sunny kind of attractive. Certainly tonight, in her crimson dress that catches the streetlights in ruby flashes, she looks…

Well…

Hot.

She slides her arm through mine and I pull away instinctively until she yanks me back. “Undercover lovers, remember?” she scolds me, but she grins afterward. “Come on. Let’s do this.”

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