The Payback (Team Zulu 2)

36

Sage

Myheartpoundedlikea war drum as we walked up a flight of stone stairs, through a set of enormous carved-timber doors, and into the cavernous foyer. The veined white-marble floors were polished to perfection, and the high ceilings I glanced up at extended to the second floor. Twin staircases curved their way to the upper level, leading to the east and west wings. An armed guard stood at the top of each of them. A no-go zone.

We waited in a short line of partygoers. Everyone seemed on edge because up ahead, scary-looking dudes with machine guns were escorting couples into private rooms.

Brandon leaned toward me. “Security checks.”

And then it was our turn. With my arm looped through Brandon’s, we followed the guard into a room, where he closed the door behind us.

The man, who was midforties, dressed in a suit, and sporting a military flattop hairstyle, held out his hand. “Your invitation, please. And cell phones. You’ll get them back at the end of the evening.” He reminded me of a stony-faced drill instructor who got off on making recruits jump at his shouted demands.

We were prepared for this, and along with our invitation, we handed over two perfectly good smartphones that we’d never used and would never see again.

“Masks off. This is the only time you’ll need to remove them.”

I glanced at Brandon, who didn’t seem concerned with the request as he removed his bronze wolf and placed it on a side table. I did the same.

Guard Jarhead scanned the invitation’s hologram with his tablet, then checked our faces closely in the same way border control had when Lettie and I had returned from Cancun. Getting through security relied solely on Brandon’s hacking skills because he’d somehow swapped the Brady’s photos with our own.

Satisfied by what he saw, Guard Jarhead held out a plastic tub similar to the ones used at airport security. “Empty the contents of your pockets and purse in here.”

Out of my clutch fell lipstick, a couple of tissues, and some mints. Brandon tossed in a lighter and a cigarette case. Not that he smoked, but we’d figured it might seem strange if he arrived with nothing.

“No wallets?” The guard asked.

Brandon grinned. “I thought drinks were on the house.”

Guard Jarhead’s deadpan expression remained. Either he didn’t buy Brandon’s excuse or he didn’t appreciate his sense of humor. I couldn’t be sure, but when he didn’t question it further, I figured we were in the clear.

He scanned us with a metal detector wand before giving back our items.

“Just one last thing before you’re on your way. I’ll need you to answer your security questions.” Guard Jarhead’s eyes didn’t leave the tablet. “Where did you go on your honeymoon?”

“Barbados,” Brandon replied confidently.

“And…wow, this is original,” he said in a dry tone. “The name of your pet?”

It might’ve been my imagination, but I thought Brandon’s back stiffened. When he didn’t immediately answer, I spoke up. “Pumpkin.” Then I sent up a silentthank-youto any God who’d listen and promised never to steal anyone’s beloved pet ever again.

Brandon’s eyes met mine, and he gave a small tilt of his head, acknowledging I’d just saved our asses. My brows rose as if to sayTold you you’d need me.

After resecuring our masks, we followed Guard Jarhead out of the room and toward a set of wide double doors at the rear of the foyer.

Then we stepped inside the ballroom.

I’d spent the last two days observing the ball preparations unfold, so none of what I saw should’ve come as a surprise. But physically standing in the Great Hall, taking it all in, was completely different.

Thiswas how you threw a party. Dante had spared no expense in order to wow his guests.

Brandon had been correct in telling me not to tone down my appearance. We were surrounded by people wearing incredible gowns and suits. Some women wore masked headpieces so extravagant they wouldn’t look out of place at Mardi Gras.

A DJ mixed beats from the stage. The acoustics in the hall made his set sound as good as at any club.

Masked servers weaved through the room, offering the greedy revelers drinks and canapés. I waved away one who offered a tray of white powdered lines.

I searched the room for Dante. No sign of him yet, although with the low lighting and masked attendees, he could be nearby and I wouldn’t know.