Damon and I exchange grins, unapologetic. "You reap what you sow, my dear friend," I say, hitching a shoulder. “You’ve only got yourself to blame.”
Vivienne's frown deepens. "Assholes. Both of you."
Damon chuckles. "Come on now, Viv. You had a good time, don't lie to us."
A smile tugs at the corners of Vivienne's lips. "It was a night I will never forget. I fear you may have ruined me."
Damon playfully pouts. "You poor woman. How ever will you survive?”
Even through her sunglasses, I can see her eyes roll. Vivienne checks her watch, her demeanor shifting from playful to businesslike.
“We’re going to be late,” she says. “Red doesn’t tolerate tardiness.”
I perk a brow. “And whose fault is it that we’re late?”
She glares at me. “I would argue yours.” She transfers her gaze toward Damon. “Andyours.”
Damon and I share another sly smile, and with a sweep of her hand, Vivienne ushers us out of her flat toward an awaiting town car.
“Tell us about this Red,” I say as we drive through the streets of Paris. “I’d like to know who we’re getting into bed with.”
Vivienne lights up a cigarette, cracking the window only a centimeter. “I think it’s best to keep your knowledge of her to a minimum. She’ll get the job done, that’s all you need to know.”
Damon narrows his eyes. “You said you’ve used her before,” he muses. “I assume she’s aided in various Interpol endeavors?” Vivienne remains tight-lipped. He lifts a brow. “Unsanctioned aid. I see.”
Smoke billows from Vivienne’s lips. “Sometimes in order to catch criminals, you must utilize criminals.”
My posture stiffens. “Is she wanted?”
Vivienne snorts. “Only on every continent.” She scoffs at our put off facial expressions. “Grow up, boys. In this world, you must do whatever you can to remain on top. How do you think I was voted in as president? By sheer determination? No. It’s because I got the job done. I put away monsters.Realmonsters.”
“This better be worth it,” Damon whispers to me, anxiously rubbing his hands together. “I have a bad feeling about this woman.”
“She’s our only hope, Damon,” I say, staring out the window. “Your feelings don’t matter. Not now.”
The drive to Red's estate winds us through Paris, taking us away from the city proper. Our driver steers the car through desolate streets until we arrive at our destination—a mansion guarded by a brigade of well-armed soldiers. I expected a rundown warehouse or an underground bunker, not a fucking fortress.
Vivienne leans forward, her tone cautious. "They are going to pat you down prior to entry. Cooperate. They will not hesitate to shoot.”
As we exit the car, armed guards approach us and conduct a thorough but swift search, their expressions flat, vigilant. After the sweep, a butler appears and leads us through the mansion's corridors.
When we reach a secured room, Damon and I glance at each other, uneasy and on edge. The butler places his hand on a biometrics sensor, and the pressurized doors glide open.
I blink at all the cutting-edge technology spread throughout the room. Monitors flicker with streams of code. Large data stations fill every corner. In the middle of the room is an ordinary office desk with several computer monitors.
As we approach the desk, Vivienne clears her throat. "Red?"
A young woman with vibrant red hair pops her head up from behind a screen and she sighs dramatically. "You're late, Ms. Delareux. We’ve talked about this before. One more strike and you’re blacklisted."
Vivienne winces. "Apologies, Red. It will never happen again."
Red raises a thin brow, her gaze flickering between Damon and me. "Well? Go on now. I charge by the minute."
“Right.” I clear my throat, giving Damon a wary look before retrieving the satellite phone from my jacket pocket. I approach Red in four purposeful strides and hand her the phone. "We need help. This video.” I swallow, inwardly wincing as Emery’sbloody face flashes in my mind. “Can you track where it was sent from?”
Red takes the phone, pursing her lips as she presses play and watches the video. After a minute, she looks up at us, her tone flat and emotionless. “I don’t do extractions.”
Damon steps forward, his expression grim. "We don’t need an extraction. Only a location. An exact location.” His jaw locks. “Please.”
