Page 33 of Faithless
“I know how to cover my tracks,” she answered with a coy smile. “And this stuff is a drop in the bucket to them, so covering anything is honestly overkill. They’re at the level where they still have exponentially more money coming in than going out. If I really wanted to drain them, that would take a lot more effort that would definitely raise eyebrows.”
“Fucking rich people.” Torr broke another bacon strip in half and gave a second piece to Lupa. “I like the Robin Hood shit, though. At least you’re stealing something from them.”
“Well, it’s not exactly going to the poor in this case,” I mused.
“It’s still a worthwhile cause.” He scratched Lupa’s ears as she licked her lips. “Just to find out what the fuck is going on in that place.”
“I agree,” Gwen said. “I’m all but certain this is the only way to get in.” She took in a shaky breath. “After the kidnappings started, some people went out to find Mystic Canyon. They also disappeared and never came back.”
Torr leaned forward. “Is the place guarded?”
“I don’t know, but I can only assume so. It’s out in the middle of nowhere. The invitations have directions but no actual address. So it’s possible they might have perished from heatstroke or something else along the way. I’m not sure, though.”
“Whereabouts is it?” I asked.
“About three hours north of here.”
I huffed out a soft laugh. “Everyone was right. The pieces are all coming together.” Astarte hadn’t said a word since that first night here, but she hadn’t needed to. She led us right where we needed to be and no further. I was still utterly clueless, but at least I knew more now than I did before.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll have some of my people come and pick up your bikes today,” Gwen said. “They’re trustworthy and will handle your vehicles well. You have my word they’ll be stored in a safe location.”
“Can it wait until tomorrow?” I asked. “I’d like to go on one last ride before I’m not able to for a whole month.”
“Oh, sure.” Gwen tilted her head with a curious expression. “Riding is pretty important to you, isn’t it?”
“It’s everything to me,” I admitted. “Kind of runs in the family.”
She smiled lightly. “Oh, I know some people just like that.”
“Yeah?”
Gwen then seemed to get a bit flustered, clearing her throat as the color in her cheeks deepened. “Enjoy your ride,” she said, standing from the table abruptly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
12
RORI
Torr glared at the huge makeup kit Gwen had set down on the small desk in our room the next morning. “This is why we had to get started so early? Makeup?”
“Blakeworth’s elite are always heavily made-up. You have to look the part to not arouse suspicion,” Gwen explained, opening the kit to reveal a small horde of brushes, pallets, eyelashes, lipsticks, and even small gemstones. “I’m not a professional, but I can do you both up enough to get by. When you arrive, they should have makeup staff for you, since they don’t allow guests to come with their own servants.”
“Wait, wait.” Torr held up a hand. “What do you mean you can do both of us?”
“Blakeworth men wear makeup too,” I told him. “You didn’t know that?”
“No! Why would I?”
“I’ll do Rori first, since she’ll take longer,” Gwen said. “In the meantime, Torr, would you mind shaving your face? Your foundation will look patchy if you put it on over stubble.”
“Ror?” The high note of desperation in his voice was hilarious.
“You heard the lady.” I sat in the chair Gwen pulled out for me. “We’re top-secret agents going undercover, remember?”
I held back my snicker until Torr finished stomping around in search of his shaving kit, then went grumbling into the bathroom.
“He’s a good sport, he’ll get over it.” I closed my eyes as Gwen pinned my hair back and soon felt the gentle mist of a cleanser on my face.
“When was the last time you had a makeover?” she asked.
