Licence To Howl by Helen Harper
Chapter Eight
The following morning,Scarlett found him slumped in a comfy chair in the lobby of the Hotel Condotti, his hands curled round a very large cup of coffee.
‘And here I was thinking, Devereau,’ she said, ‘that you’d be waiting on the balls of your feet on the steps outside with a glint of excitement in your eyes and your usual boyish verve.’
Boyish? He looked up at her with a frown. ‘I had a late night.’ Not only had he been forced to contend with Moretti, but he’d also still had to eat and write a message to Sarah Greensmith to update her about his efforts and plans to connect with Solentino. Naturally, he’d not mentioned Scarlett in his email. Greensmith was on a need to know basis and where Scarlett was concerned, the MI5 agent needed to know nothing.
‘Did somebody break into your room while naked?’ Scarlett inquired without smiling. ‘No? Well, then you have nothing to complain about.’
She had a point. He sighed and got to his feet. ‘Do you have the ring?’ he asked.
She reached into her pocket and dug out a small matchbox. ‘I thought it would be more unobtrusive if I put it into a less showy container.’
Devereau grunted. Good idea. He moved to take it from her but she pulled it out of his reach.
‘I will repeat what I said last night,’ Scarlett warned. ‘I am only lending you the ring. I have to get it back.’
He managed a smile. ‘That’s why I’ve invited you to tag along. Everything will be fine.’ He paused. ‘You know you can trust me.’
‘Do I?’ she asked softly. She didn’t wait for an answer, however. She simply pressed the box into his outstretched palm. Devereau slipped it into his breast pocket.
‘Yes,’ he said. He met her eyes. ‘You do.’
‘How are we going to approach Solentino?’
‘We will go to his apartment, knock on his door and wait for him to answer.’
Scarlett stared at him. ‘That’s it? That’s your plan?’
‘I figured you’d rather we didn’t wait around. Sometimes the direct approach is best. From what I saw at the auction, numerous supes are interested in this ring. I don’t want to complicate the situation by letting them know I have it. Solentino and his gang are the sole target. We don’t need others getting involved.’
‘How do you know where he lives?’
‘I have my methods,’ he said.
She tightened the belt on her knee length coat. ‘You mean MI5 told you.’
It was Devereau’s turn to stare.
Scarlett laughed slightly. ‘Give me some credit, Devereau. You don’t really think I’d believe you’re here in Rome to infiltrate some kind of terrorist group off your own steam?’ She tapped the side of her nose. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve not told anyone you’re now a super spy.’ She grinned at him and he felt his heart miss a beat. ‘Did they give you a gun?’
‘No.’ Devereau grimaced. ‘I don’t even get a pen that shoots poisonous darts or a sports car with an ejector seat.’
Scarlett’s smile grew. ‘That’s probably not a bad thing.’
‘How do you really know I’m working for MI5, Scarlett? If you can find out, then others can as well and that might be a problem.’
‘I told you not to worry about it. I have no reason to think anyone else knows what you’re up to.’
He watched her. ‘Have you been following me? Back in London?’
‘You saw me at Regent’s Park. You know I have been.’
‘Besides that?’ he pressed.
Scarlett waited for several beats before answering. ‘You’re an unknown quantity, Devereau,’ she said finally. ‘You’re strong, powerful, charismatic –’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Go on.’
‘You used to run a criminal gang. You have refused to join any of the werewolf clans.’
‘As I recall,’ Devereau pointed out, ‘it was you who persuaded me not to do that.’
‘Ha! You don’t do anything you don’t want to do.’ She met his eyes. ‘Let’s say that you have a lot of powerful supes worried about what you’re up to. The balance of peace between us and the humans is delicate and nobody wants the new kid on the block to upset things.’
Devereau’s eyebrow twitched. ‘So you were ordered to follow me to make sure I’m being good?’
Scarlett didn’t answer.
‘You weren’t ordered,’ he said, realisation dawning. ‘You took it upon yourself to trail after me.’ He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. ‘Don’t we know each well enough already,’ Devereau asked, ‘that you could be sure I wouldn’t do anything to harm the supe community?’
‘We shagged a few times. So what? That doesn’t mean you know me any more than I really know you.’
His smile dropped. ‘It was more than a few rolls in the hay, Scarlett,’ he growled.
‘What’s my greatest ambition? Or my deepest desire? Or my worst fear?’
Devereau gazed at her.
‘Who’s my best friend?’ Scarlett’s voice was light but there was something far darker in her eyes. ‘What’s my favourite fucking food, Devereau?’
So much for his plans for witty repartee. ‘Mine is raw steak.’
She folded her arms. ‘Great.’
‘Scarlett –’
‘Let’s stop all this nonsense and get down to business, shall we? I think I’ve already proved my point. Now, where does Solentino live?’
Devereau gritted his teeth in frustration. ‘Testaccio,’ he said, naming the neighbourhood where Christopher Solentino resided.
‘Then let’s go.’ She spun round and headed for the door.
He watched her retreating back for a moment. Scarlett thought that he didn’t know the real her. The truth was that the last minute of angry chat had told him more about her than she would have ever wanted him to know.
* * *
They tookthe small blue Fiat which Devereau had noted in the underground carpark of Scarlett’s building. It was a far more sensible mode of transport than an expensive sports car. The battered little car made as much a statement as Solentino’s bright red Ferrari had last night. It simply did so in a far less obvious manner.
‘There,’ he said, pointing ahead. ‘There’s a parking spot.’
Scarlett nodded and pulled in, nearly slotting the Fiat into the tiny space. She turned off the engine and glanced at him. They’d barely spoken five words during the entire journey. ‘Are we okay?’ she asked quietly.
‘Always,’ he told her, meaning it.
‘Good.’
Devereau scanned the street. ‘That must be Solentino’s apartment building. The blue door. See it?’
Scarlett followed his finger. ‘Gotcha.’
Unclipping his seatbelt, Devereau gave her a confident grin and reached for the matchbox. He popped it open, gazing at the ring thoughtfully. It really was a very ugly piece of jewellery.
‘I appreciate that this is your gig, Devereau,’ Scarlett said, ‘but if you walk up there with that ring in your hand, surely Solentino will just try to take it from you by force. He might be a human but there are still such things as guns. And bad luck.’
‘I make my own luck.’
Scarlett raised her eyes heavenward. ‘You’re so bloody cheesy.’
He flashed her a grin. ‘Isn’t that why you love me?’
Her expression darkened for a second.
‘Come on,’ he said, before the atmosphere between them soured again. ‘I have a plan. Bring your phone.’ Then he got out of the car and strode across the street to Solentino’s door.
Scarlett followed him, watching with some bemusement as he positioned himself in front of the door.
‘Is the building number visible?’ Devereau asked.
She tilted her head. ‘Yes.’
He picked the ring up between his thumb and forefinger and held it up next to his face. ‘Could you take a photo, please?’
Her brow furrowed. ‘Of you or the ring or the door?’
‘All of us.’
Scarlett raised her shoulders in baffled acquiescence. ‘Say cheese.’ She paused. ‘You should be good at that.’
Devereau smirked slightly and did as she asked. Scarlett snapped a picture and held it up for him to see. ‘Looking good.’ He winked. ‘Can you do a video now?’
‘Devereau, what exactly are you planning?’
‘Bear with me.’ He met her eyes. ‘Please.’
She muttered something under her breath. However, she held the phone up again. ‘Okay.’
‘Is it recording?’
‘Yep.’
Devereau looked directly into the camera. ‘I’m sure you recognise this ring, Mr Solentino. Between us, I have managed to discreetly acquire it for myself. I have no need for such an object but I know from last night’s auction that you do. I’m prepared to enter into private negotiations. Let me know within the next twenty four hours if you’re interested. I’m staying at the Hotel Condotti.’ Then he placed the ring into his mouth and, ignoring Scarlett’s look of sudden horror, swallowed it.
She immediately lowered the hand which had been holding her phone. ‘What the actual fuck, Devereau?’
He gave the phone a pointed look.
Scarlett bared her single fang in a half snarl. ‘I’ve stopped recording.’
‘You wanted the ring to be kept safe. Now Solentino won’t be able to get to it.’ He patted his flat stomach. ‘Not for a day or two anyway.’
‘I have to hand that ring over to Lord Horvath!’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s properly sanitised once it comes out the other end.’
She made a gagging sound. ‘Ugh.’
‘You can’t possibly be that squeamish, Scarlett. It’s a normal bodily function.’
‘There is nothing normal about what you just did and you know it. And what happens if Solentino decides he doesn’t want to wait for it to pass through your system? What if he decides to cut you open from nipple to navel to get to it?’
‘He won’t.’ Hopefully. ‘And now he won’t be able to simply snatch the ring from me either.’
Scarlett sighed heavily and passed a hand over her face. ‘This time yesterday I was looking forward to seeing the sights of Rome, enjoying some fine wines and eating some fabulous food. Instead, I’ll be hanging around waiting for you to take a shit.’
‘You have such a lovely way with words, Scarlett.’
She folded her arms. ‘I have a feeling I’m going to become far less eloquent the longer this idiocy goes on.’
‘I won’t hold it against you.’ He crossed his fingers and held them up. ‘I promise.’
Scarlett rolled her eyes. Devereau gave her his most disarming smile and then pressed the buzzer for Christopher Solentino’s apartment.