Page 29 of Agency
Seriously? Seriously. What the fuck was I doing?
Existential crisis aside, Candy would be here soon. Time to go.
I manhandled Grigori beneath the covers, grunting and straining with his dead weight the whole time. Leaving him tucked beneath the bunched and piled duvet, and his face hidden from the door, I straightened my wig and wiped down the EpiPen, tucked the small, white cylinder inside the nightstand next to the bed.
Then, putting my shoes back on, I made my way out of the room.
The two security guards were out there still, and the one I’d seen the night before at the hotel lounge straightened from where he’d propped himself against the wall. He didn’t say the words, but the look in his eyes was crystal clear.
“The boss already done?”
“Said he was tired after a couple rounds,” I said with what I hoped seemed like practiced nonchalance. “Said he was done for the night. Don’t worry, it’s a thing with my dates.”
His gaze shot to the door behind me, but I only saw him in my peripheral as my eyes went immediately to the elevator doors and I started my walk. Not a hip rolling sashay like before, either. No, this was a no-nonsense stride with a destination in mind. I hit the call button as soon as I got there, and the doors popped open with aping.
The guard was already knocking on Grigori Smolensky’s door as I stepped into the elevator.
The thing about these security elevators? You can prevent them from coming up, but there’s not many that you can stop from returning to the ground floor. Not in a hotel you don’t yet own.
The door closed behind me, and I sidestepped into the blind spot I’d recognized on my way up. Dropping my clutch between my high-heeled feet, I immediately began my transition.
I pulled up the bottom hem of my dress, halving its skirt length as I folded the garment in two to mid thigh, and revealed a black reverse side in the process. My fingers went to the straps on my dress, sliding them from my shoulders and beginning to roll down the top half. By the time I finished, my former dress had become a bright-red sash-turned-belt, adorning and accentuating the waist of my now-black halter-top. Gathering two hidden strings and pulling them up around my neck, I tied them together and completed my look.
Next came the green contacts. Swearing, tearing up, hating my life and absolutely regretting my nails, I pulled the cosmetic contacts from my eyes, felt them breathe a sigh of relief at finally being free of the plastic disks. Sure, they’d been gorgeous, butyeeshthey were rough to remove! Then, my earrings. Gone were the glittering white sapphires, quickly replaced by golden hoops taken from the lining of my clutch.
Finally, my blonde hair. Ripping the wig from my head and stuffing the article of disguise away in my small purse, I shook my head and let my red hair fall free as I remained hidden in the blind spot. Limbs leaden and my head light as a balloon, I realized how much I really did need that granola bar I’d left upstairs with the security guard, even with the dinner Smolesnky had just served me.
Nothing to be done about that now, though.
Taking deep, cleansing breaths as I drew closer to the lobby floor, I allowed the egress plan to appear in my mind’s eye.
Walk out and head through the lobby. Veer right before the exit, head down, get to the convention areas and keep going. Find the final fire exit, quickly disable the alarm, step out into the alley way and find the getaway car I’d earlier in the day parked there. Then gone. Gone, Ambyr, gone.
Deep breaths. More deep breaths.
Morgan doesn’t even know my real name, I thought as the elevator continued to descend.You’re regretting not meeting him tonight, and he doesn’t even know your real name. Fucking stupid girl.
The elevator beeped, and I took another deep breath as the doors came open.
I swung around, drew up short as I came face-to-face with a beautiful blonde woman in her early twenties, crimson-painted mouth turning into a perfect “O,” even as her gorgeous green eyes widened in surprise. If this had been a minute before, looking at her would have been like I was looking into a mirror.
Candy. A little late, due to the nails I’d placed just behind the back tire of her car out in front of her apartment.
“Hey!” she said. “Watch—”
Already fighting down the urge to pop her one in the nose, I stepped around her in my red heels, the one article of clothing, aside from my clutch, I couldn’t transform into something new.
“Wait!” she called to my bare back. “You’re coming from the penthouse? He didn’t cancel on me, did he?”
I glanced back in time to see the elevator doors close behind her, and for her to turn and give a shout of surprise at them. Already near the lobby entrance, I waved back over my shoulder at her, before veering off to the right and heading to find my fire exit.
I needed to be fast, even if they’d have the wrong description of me being blonde-haired and green-eyed. Because Grigori’s security had probably recalled the elevator to the top floor, which meant they were going to be down that shaft in just another minute, or so.
And they’d be baying for blood.
???
The fire in the barrel crackled and smoked, and the stench of gasoline filled the air, mingling with the river stench and smell of burning synthetic fabric and leather. Standing there in my hoodie, top, jeans, and comfortable sneakers in the abandoned warehouse yard, I took the dossiers I’d been carrying like school text books for the last week and tossed them into the burn barrel.
