Licence To Howl by Helen Harper

Chapter Twelve

Devereau plumpedup the pillows and cushions, making himself comfortable on the bed, while Scarlett ordered some coffee from room service and then went out to make a call. Greensmith’s system of only writing draft emails meant that he didn’t have to worry about any lack of security within the hotel’s wifi system but, in case Solentino had indeed managed to bug his room in the intervening hours while he’d been away, he turned on the television, ramping up the volume to cover the sounds of any typing. He read the email Greensmith had already left for him, instructing him to do whatever was necessary to find out what Solentino was up to – albeit without placing himself in any immediate danger or crossing the Italian authorities – and told him to update her on his progress as soon as he possibly could. Like the good little werewolf he was, he did just that.

CS is planning something nasty. Likely in London but he also mentioned Paris and Berlin. If I commit murder for him, he’ll allow me access to his gang which so far includes Geraint Vissier and Rospo Accetti. CS has a girlfriend called Alina Bonnet who is also involved somehow. There was another man called Mike Lancaster but he is deceased as of today. CS killed Lancaster in front of me.

CS is going to approach a Greek named Avanopoulos who might be able to help him with some kind of transportation to Germany. From what I could gather he had someone called Bartan in the frame but he’s no longer available. Don’t know what kind of transport is required or what is being moved but it’s likely something dodgy. I don’t know how I’ll proceed but I’ve got until tomorrow morning to decide.

Devereau scanned his message.It was short but brevity was no doubt better than any long winded descriptions. He’d deliberately left out mention of who Solentino had told him to murder. He didn’t want to give Sarah Greensmith the opportunity to disappoint him. Besides, as far as his immediate MI5 boss was concerned, Scarlett was still safely tucked away in good ol’ London. He hoped that his inclusion of Lancaster’s murder would make Greensmith realise how dangerous both this situation and Solentino actually were. Devereau had no problem admitting that he was out of his depth. He knew how he’d deal with Solentino if the man were a werewolf or someone he came across in his old patch in London. But this sort of international intrigue, not to mention potential terrorism, was far out of Devereau’s realm of experience.

Leaning against the pillows, he watched the flickering images on the television with unseeing eyes. Obviously, he wasn’t going to kill Scarlett. There had to be some way to still ingratiate himself with Solentino, however, and keep Scarlett safe. Devereau’s stomach grumbled loudly and he grimaced. The laxatives were already beginning to work their dubious magic. He hesitated, waiting to see if his bowels were about to empty themselves. Apparently not yet.

The laptop screen flashed and he glanced down. Huh. Greensmith had already replied. He hadn’t been expecting to hear from her so soon but he supposed that not only was she carefully monitoring the email address, she was also stirred into action by the information he’d provided. There was nothing like the whisper of an impending attack on your own capital city to galvanise your security services into action.

Under no circumstances are you to commit murder.

Yeah,no shit. He snorted mildly to himself.

It is imperative, however, that you find out more about CS’s plans as well as any other members of his organisation. He’s not a supe. Impress him with your werewolf abilities. Talk about your time as the Shepherd. Get him to open up to you.

She madeit sound so easy.

Do you have any details on a possible time frame for the attack?

That wasthe one question he could answer. He quickly typed out an answer.

The earliest date will be December 22^nd.

Devereau waiteda moment or two before refreshing his screen. Greensmith didn’t waste any time responding.

CS told you that himself?

No.But it could be the only reason why Solentino was so keen to get his greasy, bloodstained mitts on the Ring of All Seasons. Legend stated that anyone who wore it on the night of the Winter Solstice would get glimpses into their future. Unless he was mistaken, that was December 21^st. Assuming the legend was true, it provided the perfect failsafe mechanism for anyone considering an elaborate plan of action that might involve death or life imprisonment if it went badly. Solentino wasn’t planning a suicide mission. He wasn’t the type. There was no doubt in Devereau’s mind that Solentino wanted the ring as a rubber stamp to prove his impending action would work. If the ring showed him a future he didn’t like, he could cancel everything with no harm done. Although admittedly that would also create some sort of bizarre time travel, future proofing conundrum of the type that made Devereau’s head hurt if he thought about it too much. If you could see into the future, could you then change that future? Or was it already immutable? He doubted the merits of getting into that sort of discussion with Sarah Greensmith, however, and opted for a simpler answer.

I worked it out from other things he’s said.

There.That ought to be enough.

This timeit took Greensmith longer to answer. When she did, her instructions were terse and to the point but without any sort of helpful advice that he could actually use.

Get CS to trust you. Find out exactly what he’s planning. I’ll expect another update within twenty-four hours.

Devereau waitedbut nothing else was forthcoming. Eventually, he sighed audibly, massaged the back of his neck, and closed the laptop. The only good thing about any of this was that Christopher Solentino wasn’t nearly as smart as he believed himself to be. Devereau certainly possessed the will to get the man to trust him. Now he only had to find the way.

* * *

By the timeScarlett finally returned, the coffee which had arrived via room service was cold. She seemed unperturbed by its temperature, downing it in several uninterrupted gulps before smacking her lips. When she caught Devereau staring at her, she shrugged.

‘What? I needed something to get the taste of that woman’s blood out of my mouth.’

‘You didn’t like how she tasted?’ he asked.

‘I didn’t like how I was all but forced to drink from her,’ Scarlett replied. ‘I’m not a performing seal.’

Devereau opened his mouth to warn her against saying anything else, in case somebody really was listening in to what they were saying. Scarlett was already one step ahead of him, however. She pulled a long narrow wand device out of her bag. ‘This is what took me so long.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘You were out buying a sex toy?’

She tossed her head. ‘You wish.’ She grinned at him easily, however, and pressed an invisible button on the side of the device. A small light glowed green and Scarlett wasted no time in waving it around the room, from one wall to another. It emitted a tiny, high-pitched whine that was annoying in the extreme. But that was all it did.

Scarlett checked the curtains, the light fittings, and under the bed. When she was finished, her expression was satisfied. ‘Hotel Condotti has better security than I’d have given them credit for. Thus far anyway. The room is clear of listening devices and we can speak freely.’

Excellent. Devereau nodded towards the wand. ‘Where did you get that from?’

‘I’m one of Lord Horvath’s most trusted vampires,’ she said. ‘I’ve got useful contacts ready to spring to my command all over the place.’

‘Must be good to be you.’

‘It is.’ She paused. ‘Mr Motorbike is still hanging around outside. Solentino is keeping a close eye on us.’

That pleased Devereau far more than it dismayed him. It meant that he wasn’t being dismissed out of hand and that could only be a positive thing. ‘Could you see who he was? Is it Vissier? Or Rospo?’

She shook her head. ‘Nope. Could be either of them or neither of them. He’s definitely male but beyond that I can’t tell. Whoever our mysterious follower is, he still has the helmet on.’

He might be hiding his identity but he definitely wasn’t attempting to be inconspicuous. Interesting. Devereau put aside the motorcyclist’s identity for the time being and watched Scarlett silently for a moment or two. ‘I’ve been thinking about our problem,’ he said eventually.

‘You mean the one where you’re supposed to chop off my head in order to prove yourself as a good little wannabe terrorist?’

He shifted uncomfortably. ‘Yeah, that one.’

‘Did MI5 offer any useful suggestions?’

‘Let’s just say,’ Devereau replied, ‘that I left out one or two specific details when I contacted them. They don’t know about your involvement.’

Scarlett looked more relieved than he’d expected her to. ‘I’m pleased to hear it.’ She spread her arms out wide. ‘Go on then. What’s the big plan?’

‘You have to leave Rome. I’ve checked and there’s still plenty of time to get to the airport and catch the last flight to London.’

Scarlett folded her arms and looked at him.

‘What?’ he asked, attempting to feign nonchalance.

‘Are you kidding me, Dev? Are you fucking kidding me? You seriously expect me to run away?’

‘I rather thought you might take a taxi and then fly. You don’t have to run.’

She gave him a long look to inform him that she was wholly unimpressed by his weak humour. ‘You know me well enough to know that I don’t run.’

Devereau was prepared for this. ‘And I thought your argument was that I don’t know you at all.’

‘Now you’re being facetious.’

He shrugged, the very picture of angelic innocence. ‘Am I?’

‘Piss off, Devereau.’

He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. ‘You’re a hot mess of contradictions, Scarlett. I don’t know you. I do know you. You want me. You don’t want me.’

She flashed her single, white fang at him. ‘We’ve been through all this.’

He splayed out his hands in a gesture of peace. ‘Yeah, we have. You made a good call by ending things between us.’

Scarlett glared at him. ‘Pardon?’

‘We’re completely different people. We have next to nothing in common. I’m independent. I like my freedom. You’re wholly loyal to another man and you jump to do his bidding.’ Devereau shook his head. ‘I can’t work like that.’

‘You’re referring to Lord Horvath.’ Her voice was flat enough that he knew he was getting to her.

‘I don’t mean it as a bad thing, Scarlett. He’s lucky to have you. I’m only saying that I could never be beholden to someone else like you are. It proves that at heart we’re completely different kinds of people.’

Scarlett’s eyes were flecked with rage. ‘I’m not beholden,’ she spat. ‘It’s an honour to be able to work for Lukas Horvath. There’s not a vampire in London who doesn’t feel that way.’

‘Okay.’ Devereau looked baffled. ‘If you say so.’

‘You jumped up furry dog! You work for a bunch of bloody humans! At least I’m with my own kind. You follow the orders of people who think that you’re some kind of freak.’

‘I don’t follow all their orders. And I choose to work for them. Did you really choose to work for Horvath or is it just that’s the way that things are done? Are you only following the crowd?’

‘Following the crowd?’ her voice rose. ‘Following the fucking crowd? Why you … you … you …’ She stopped in mid-sentence and dropped her arms. ‘You stupid shit, Devereau.’ She walked up to him until their noses were almost touching. ‘You stupid furry shit,’ she whispered. Her eyes met his. ‘Did you really think that was going to work?’

Fuck. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘You were trying to goad me into an argument. You wanted to piss me off enough that I’d storm out of here. Then you could waltz back to Solentino and tell him that you can’t kill me because I’m not here.’

Devereau gazed at her. Then he sighed. ‘Would that be such a bad thing?’

‘You still have my ring.’

‘You’ll get your damned ring back. I’ve already promised you will.’

‘I’m not the kind of coward who runs away because of one madman.’

‘It’s not running away,’ he argued. ‘It’s a strategic retreat.’

Scarlett jabbed him in the chest with her index finger. ‘You’re the one who got me into this. You’re the one who persuaded me to join forces with you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I shouldn’t have done that. I was wrong to involve you.’

‘Too late, Devereau. Way too late. Now that I’m here, I’m not backing out. That’s not the way I work and I definitely don’t need you to protect me. I’ve been at this sort of thing a hell of a lot longer than you have. You might be the big bad wolf but I’ve still got more power than you. I’m still smarter than you.’

He wasn’t going to disagree with that. He couldn’t. ‘I know you’re smarter than me, Scarlett. I also know that the smartest thing to do here is to remove yourself from the equation so that I can work on Solentino.’

‘Would you walk away if MI5 told you to, Devereau? If your spy boss, whoever they are, told you that they were putting together a crack team of specialists to take care of Solentino without your help, would you get on a plane and go home?’

He didn’t immediately answer.

‘Devereau?’ she prodded.

He gritted his teeth. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because now I know what sort of man he really is, I can’t leave him be.’

She leaned forward slightly. ‘Then it appears,’ she murmured, ‘that we’re really not all that different after all.’

They stared at each other. All of a sudden, Devereau was painfully aware of her proximity. He breathed in and inhaled her scent. He could almost taste Scarlett’s retreating anger in amongst the combined smells of the perfume she’d applied that morning to the coffee she’d only just finished. In fact, it wasn’t only anger he could smell. There was something else there, lingering underneath her other turbulent, undefined emotions. Scarlett’s eyes dropped to his mouth and her cheeks flushed a faint pink. There was no mistaking it now. That was desire.

‘Scarlett,’ he began.

‘Shut up, Devereau.’ Her hands reached for him and pulled him towards her and then her soft mouth was on his.

There was a tiny logical corner of his brain that told him to put a stop to this now. He wanted far more from Scarlett than mere sex and there was every likelihood that if they saw this encounter through to its inevitable, joyous conclusion that she would withdraw from him even more afterwards. When her hands drifted down his chest, however, and began to toy with his belt, that logic all but fled. Devereau groaned, his own hands reaching for Scarlett’s curved waist. It was as if they were made for each other. Their bodies moulded together, their heat combining to create a raging inferno of hot, unbridled desire. Scarlett’s fang scraped lightly against his bottom lip. In return, he dipped his head and nipped at the soft flesh on the base of her throat. Beneath his skin, his wolf growled in pure animalistic delight. This. This was what they both wanted. This was –

There was a sudden, loud insistent knock on the door.

‘Mr Webb? Signore Webb?’ The knock came again. ‘There are several people downstairs who are waiting for you. They are … most insistent.’

Scarlett was already pulling away from him. She looked flushed – and troubled. It had taken her little more than seconds to regret making a move on him. Devereau cursed inwardly. Then he squared his shoulders and marched to the door, opening it and glaring at the unfortunate man standing on the threshold. He wasn’t a lowly hotel employee, however. From the cut of his suit and his well manicured fingernails and facial hair, he looked to be somebody rather high up in the Hotel Condotti hierarchy.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Signore Webb,’ the man said, in accented English. From his expression, he was lying through his teeth. ‘My name is Aldo Costa. I am the hotel manager here. As I said through the door, there are some people waiting for you in the lobby on the ground floor. They require your immediate attention.’

With his thoughts still in disarray after his encounter with Scarlett, it took Devereau a moment or two to process what Aldo Costa was saying. When he finally did, he realised why it was the manager himself who’d appeared at his door.

‘Lupo,’ he said. Damn it. The Italian werewolves’ timing sucked arse.

Costa was too relieved that Devereau knew who he’d been talking about to register his annoyance. ‘Si. Yes. As I’m sure you’re aware, we are an inclusive establishment and we welcome all sorts of … people. However, this is rather a large group and they are causing some concern amongst our other guests.’ He raised his eyebrows at Devereau. ‘They said you were expecting them.’

‘Not this early.’ Moretti had said night. It was barely evening. ‘But don’t worry. I’ll come down and see to them. I’ll grab my jacket and a few things first.’

A flicker of worry crossed the hotel manager’s face. ‘I would appreciate it personally if you could be fast.’

Devereau gave him a stony look. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’ He closed the door in the man’s face.

Scarlett had already smoothed back her hair and adjusted her clothing. ‘Trouble?’ she asked.

Devereau pulled a face. ‘An irritation.’ One that he could definitely do without.