“Let’s go,”Tattoosaid.
He escorted Chloe out of the private dining room while Sean and Adrian followed behind him. Sean was intensely aware of the man with the guns at his back. He had no way of knowing when or if the guy would pull the trigger. Phasing would keep Sean alive but blow his cover. He bit back a frustrated sigh, reminding himself that he’d been doing stuff like this for years before he got turned into ametahuman.
Sean was good at surviving whileundercover.
He wouldsurvivethis.
I’m going to tell the director he needs to hire more analysts and agents for my division, Sean thought sourly as they made their way through the dining room, ignoring the stares of the people closest to them that they passed. Congress really needed to dole out a little more money for the MDF during the next round of budgetnegotiations.
They’d almost made it to the elevator lobby when the front house manager caught up to them. “Sir! Mr. Miller! Is something wrong? You’re leavingearly.”
Sean turned to greet the man, ignoring the warning glare Tattoo sent his way. “I’m sorry, but Mrs. Wolcott just got some terrible family news. I’m going to see them to their room. Go ahead and bill my account for the fulldinner.”
Their abrupt departure probably wasn’t even in the manager’s top ten weird shit he’d seen in this city. He waved them off with some bland well-wishes that Seantunedout.
“Good call,” the man at his back muttered as they waited for theelevator.
Sean didn’t engage him in conversation, more interested in eyeing the embedded security camera in the corner. At some point, someone would run a traceback on his whereabouts if he went missing. They’d place him at The White Squall prettyeasily.
It was after that Sean was uncertainabout.
He couldn’t call in without tipping Tattoo and his partner off. But contacting headquarters was a dead giveaway that Sean wasn’t who he said he was, and the MDF still needed to keep their covers intact. Which meant Sean had to be Riley for just a littlelonger.
The group took the elevator down to the ground floor and headed at a brisk pace toward the main entrance to the resort. Tattoo was muttering under his breath, probably calling for their ride. People stared, mostly at Chloe, who was hiding her terror behind one shaking hand over her face in a play at grief. The sobs helped. Sean kept his own expression one of faint worry, not fear, making sure not to catch anyone’s eye as they left theresort.
Outside, the night air was disgustingly muggy. The resort’s biodome didn’t extend this far out, and its environmentals ended at the doors closing behind them. Adrian tensed, and Sean reached out automatically, grabbing his wrist to keep him from doing somethingstupid.
“Don’t,” Sean said quietly, staring straightahead.
Adrian’s wrist flexed against Sean’s tight grip before going lax. Sean let him go, hoping Adrian wouldstayput.
Tattoo rebuffed the valet’s assistance. Moments later a black SUV pulled up to the curb. Tattoo ushered Chloe off the sidewalk and to the vehicle, opening up the front passenger door and helping herinside.
“Ladies first,” he said with a mockingsmile.
Sean climbed into the row of back seats, unsurprised when Tattoo got in after him. Adrian and Tattoo’s partner took the middle seats, with the latter passing back a gun to Tattoo once the doors were shut. Sean hoped Adrian didn’t do anything stupid, like try to be a hero, on the drive to wherever they were going. He also hoped they weren’t heading for the swamp or the New Miami Bay for a body drop. Those were alwaysmessy.
“Electronic jammers up and running,” the driver said as he pulled into thestreet.
Tattoo grunted a wordlessreply.
At 1830 on a Tuesday night, the streets weren’t packed like they were on the weekends with partiers looking for a good time in skimpy outfits and way too much booze in hand. Sean turned his head fractionally to the left, looking out the tinted plas-glass windows, trying to orient himself to the map of the city he’d memorized thatmorning.
“Where are we going?” he venturedtoask.
The answer wasn’t one heliked.
Tattoo pistol-whipped Sean in the face with the gun hard enough that his vision went black at the edges. Hot pain stabbed through his face and jaw with an immediacy that burned through his nerves. Fingers tangled in his hair before Tattoo viciously slammed his head against the window. Black spots erupted across his vision as pain exploded across his head and face in hot waves. The pulsing agony around his right eye was familiar in the particular way of broken bones. The ringing in his ears was so loud Sean almost didn’t hear Tattoospeak.
“Christov Antonovich want to talk with you,”Tattoosaid.
Sean closed his eyes against the throbbing ache in his head, breathing in carefully through his nose. Sean was only glad they were being dragged in front of Antonovich’sBrigadaand not the Irish mob where his cover definitely wouldn’t hold up under interrogation and a deepvetting.
He’d be happier if they weren’t goingatall.
2
Skin Of YourTeeth
