“I’m watching our backs—yours included.” He glanced at Delilah in exasperation. “Can you tell your friend to cool it?”
Delilah shrugged nonchalantly. “I happen to think he’s an excellent judge of character.”
“Does it calm you or something?” Ben pressed, still fixated on Cliff. “Putting a blade into something orsomeone’sbeating heart? You’ll certainly get your chance tonight. Are you looking forward to it?”
“Ben!” I hissed. He truly didn’t appear to mean any true malice, but around the hunters, it was like he couldn’t contain these cutting remarks.
“Are you asking me if Ienjoykilling?” Cliff asked. “Dude, what the hell?”
“I—I dunno. I’m just making conversation.”
Cliff laughed incredulously. “You thinkthat’ssmall talk?”
“You don’t really strike me as a ‘remarking on the weather’ kind of guy.”
“Hm.” Cliff had to concede to that, at least. “Look, let’s just get through this in silence and not pretend we have to be fucking pen pals afterward.”
Ben opened his mouth, then promptly shut it again as a waiter approached Delilah and Cliff with a silver tray. The two unattended guests had finally been noticed by staff.
“Quiche á la salamandre?” The neatly groomed man wore a pressed red suit, offering delicate, bite-sized appetizers.
Cliff and Delilah slid right into gracious character, each plucking one from the tray with a nod of thanks. Even thenapkinslooked expensive here.
The moment Cliff popped it into his mouth, he paused, expression growing thoughtful as he chewed. “What’d you say this is?” he asked, lump in his cheek.
“Wild mushroom and salamander quiche in a puff pastry crust.” The waiter’s eyes lit up conspiratorially. “Harvested from the Chinese Giant Salamander. You’ll not find it in but a handful of establishments in the world. The tenderness of its meat is unparalleled, particularly from our kitchens.”
I got a glimpse of Cliff’s bug-eyed expression before he promptly spat back into his napkin.
Delilah, on the other hand, had already finished hers and eagerly plucked two more before dismissing the server.
“Not hungry?” she asked.
“I’m full on anything remotely related to a toad, thanks.” I swore he tried to look at me as he grumbled, “Would it kill these people to have a goddamn Philly cheesesteak?”
Delilah laughed, the sound musical, even at his expense.
Sweeping both hands through his hair, Ben gazed out at the room, his mind faraway. I recognized the look. Although he and Delilah were clearly friendly, Lee was his deepest bond. He waslooking for him in the sea of faces, disappointed when he came up empty.
I did the same, searching for Jon. He shouldn’t have been difficult to spot, but between my nerves and the riotous amount of distractions, my attempt was just as fruitless.
Cliff cleared his throat. “Some of these freaks are starting to look our way,” he muttered to Delilah through a forced smile. “I’m not in the mood for networking.”
Delilah barely had time to finish her last appetizer before Cliff snatched her hand and tugged her toward the small dance floor nearby.
“Sylv?” he said, though he carefully trained his eyes away from the instinct to search for me overhead.
“I’m here,” I murmured, following overhead with Ben.
In all honesty, I was holding my breath at the idea of Cliff taking the lead amidst the smooth rhythm of the music filling the hall. Sure, his coordination was unmatched when it came to aim, but this was different. What were the chances that the dance floor was how his cover was blown?
But to my shock, Cliff took to the dance with surprising fluidity. He had Delilah in a loose hold at first, but she moved closer, stepping in time with him to the pulse of the music. The wide-eyed expression on Delilah’s face was equal parts surprise and glee. Where had he learned these steps? As much as he pretended not to be interested in the old movies I watched, perhaps he had at least taken note during the dance scenes.
“That’s the door, isn’t it?” Cliff said in a low voice, a hint of flirtation riding on his smile to stay in character.
I followed his gaze, spotting a lone man in a jet-black suit standing like a statue before an unmarked door. It lacked some of the filigree of the other exits in the ballroom, and matched the location Lee had marked on the blueprints.
“Look at that. Seems someone didn’t have anything eye-catching enough to fence,” Delilah remarked as an angry guest was turned away from the door, straightening his tie importantly with a canvas-wrapped box tucked under his arm. “But let’s talk about what’sreallyimportant here—the fact that you’re not stepping on my toes. Now that’s impressive.”
