Page 160 of Lethal Torture
I care about Luke, about how he will see me after this night is done.
Thankfully, before that thought becomes too overwhelming, Luke props the tablet on the dressing table in front of me. “Here we go,” he says, hitting the audio. He leans forward, bracing himself with one large hand on the table, his body so close tomine I can inhale his fresh ocean scent and feel the warmth radiating from him.
God, I want him.I want to melt back into him and forget about the feathers and the glitter and the world I come from.
Instead, I take a deep breath and focus on the conversation playing out in front of me.
“I must admit,” Simon Lowbridge is saying onscreen, “I was extremely surprised to receive your invitation today, Home Secretary. I had no idea you were a member here.”
Given that Lowbridge is committed to murdering me and taking my clubs for himself, his visible resentment that Agatha should be a member rather than him is more than a little ironic.
Luke and I both give a silent huff of laughter. It’s a reminder of how much our minds work in concert, and I feel my tension lower slightly.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, Simon,” Agatha says with perfect dignity, “sometimes our line of work requires undesirable alliances. I have been operating under the assumption that Miss Melikov was an asset, if a slightly... unorthodox one. Unfortunately, one of my NCA agents gave me some information today to the contrary.” She takes a rather heavy swallow of her whiskey. “It appears I may have misjudged you, Simon. Miss Melikov, I believe, has not only been using Sophie’s House as a cover for her trafficking operations, but also, I regret to say, manipulating my own agents to assist her.”
Her mask does nothing to hide a grimace of disgust that looks entirely unfeigned.
I can’t help but smile. Agatha might loathe deception, but she’s doing a damned good job of it.
“I did try to warn you, Agatha.” Simon’s lips curl smugly beneath a black leather half mask which someone must have told him looks kinky, but which in fact makes him look like a cartoon Robin to somebody else’s much more dangerousBatman. “Bedding down with a psychopathic dog like Melikov involves some very ugly fleas.”
Luke’s hand tenses on the dressing table beside me. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy seeing this fucker go down,” he mutters. I don’t miss the hard edge to his voice, nor the way he instinctively moves closer to me.
I smile coldly. “Not as much as I will.”
“Ha.” The soft caress of Luke’s eyes on mine is brief, but enough to warm me all the way through.
“Luckily for you,” Simon goes on, “I’ve already made plans to eradicate the Melikov infestation completely.”
Agatha looks at him with an impressive imitation of admiration. “You have? Already?”
“Yes. And your invitation came at exactly the right time.” His nod is pathetically triumphant. “I’ve had a diplomatic associate keeping a close eye on Melikov for some time now. He’s put together a team from special forces, capable of completely neutralizing Melikov and her entire operation.” He turns in his seat, his mask doing nothing to hide his enthusiasm. “Obviously, Agatha, I’d never usurp your authority. But one word from you, and this can all end tonight. Here.”
“My goodness, Simon.” Agatha sits back in the booth, looking horrified. “I invited you here to discuss options, not to authorize a bloody coup.”
“Christ.” Luke gives a low laugh. “She’s damned good.”
Simon tilts his head to one side, his eyes calculating behind his mask. “Has it occurred to you,” he says, “that we were invited here tonight because Melikov is planning something like that for us both?”
Agatha’s silver filigree mask seems to exaggerate her startled eyes as she stares around the Quartier, adding drama to her imitation of frozen shock. “Oh, God,” she says weakly. “Do you truly think she brought us here to kill us?”
Simon nods gravely. “I’m sure of it. If your agent is onto her, then believe me, Melikov knows about it. Tell me honestly—was your invitation to this ball a last-minute thing?”
Luke taps his earpiece. “Tell him yes,” he murmurs to Agatha through his comms. “Tell him Zin was trying to set him up.”
Agatha’s expression, to her credit, doesn’t betray Luke’s instructions by the mildest flicker. “It was a last-minute thing.” Her dismay is extremely believable. “Zinaida told me that if I could get you here, she’d be able to set you up in the kind of compromising position that would end your career. At the time, I confess I was prepared to go along.” She shoots Simon an apologetic glance that is so out of character I genuinely struggle not to laugh. “Then Niamh came to me this afternoon with the truth about what Zinaida has really been doing. I was worried that if I canceled your invitation, she’d be suspicious. So now we’re here.” She gulps her whiskey, looking around nervously. “Who is this diplomatic associate of yours? Are you sure you can trust him? Where is he now?”
Luke winces. “That was a bit obvious.” He doesn’t touch his earpiece, so the words are only for me.
“But look at Lowbridge,” I say, nodding at the screen. “The idiot’s lapping it up. He’s too stupid to see that Agatha’s setting him up.”
“Let’s hope so.” Luke’s voice is tight, his eyes locked on the screen.
“The diplomat is one of yours, actually.” Simon’s smile is oily as the Thames. “Rhys Stewart. He’s had an axe to grind with Melikov since he crossed her in Romania years ago.”
“Rhys?” Agatha’s feigned shock is so perfect she should be up for a Golden Globe. “Good God. Why didn’t he come to me with this?”
Simon gives her a look so patronizing it makes me want to slam my fist in his face. “Would you have listened if he had,Agatha? You’ve been very determined to champion Melikov, no matter the amount of bodies she’s left in her wake.”
