Hideaway (Devil's Night 2)

She left, and I turned, waving my arm and gesturing to Banks. “Down the hall. Ladies first.”

I expected some flash of aggravation to cross her face, but there was nothing. Her stare remained flat as she brushed past me, heading toward the hallway, and I followed close, my heart pumping a little harder as I gazed at the back of her.

The lace of one of her black boots dragged on the floor, and although I had no doubt she could look after herself, it was amusing how little she cared about her appearance. So different from the women I’d grown up around, at home and at school.

But my hands knew how beautiful she was. They remembered.

She stopped next to a door labeled Office and waited for me to open it. I reached around and turned the knob, and she entered, walking in and immediately heading toward the far corner at the back of the office. She turned to face me.

I almost laughed. Unlike Rika, Banks immediately went into survival mode in an unsure situation. While in enemy territory, take the vantage point with the fewest variables. Positioned in the corner, she only needed to see what was coming at her, not was what coming from behind. I’d been trying to turn that lesson into instinct with Rika for months.

Closing the door, I moved around the room, taking chairs and placing them at the round table toward the back. One that could hold all five of us.

“I can imagine dealing with some of Torrance’s associates can be difficult for a woman,” I broached. “Is that why you speak through that mouth-breather out there?”

Her eyes drifted to me briefly before turning back to the framed charcoal drawing on the wall, an art piece Rika admired and had put in here, since this office was used by all of us. She said it looked like me. Not sure how. It was a figure without a face, various strokes going outside the lines. Abstract art was a love of my father’s I hadn’t inherited, sadly.

“Did you forget you were the one who told me about The Pope?” I went on, changing the subject.

“I don’t forget anything.”

I stopped, leaning on the back of the chair I’d just moved, studying her. After so many years, that shell was not only still there, but it was a lot thicker now. She’d grown up.

“Do you still think there’s a hidden twelfth floor?”

“I think you’re far too concerned with the secrets you know exist rather than the ones you don’t.”

And then she focused her attention back on the pictures and weapons lining the walls, dismissing me.

What did that mean? What the hell didn’t I know?

“Hey, what’s going on?” Michael walked in, looking sweaty and tossing a towel over a chair. Will and Rika followed him and shut the door behind them. Will was shirtless and breathing hard, probably having just been amping it up in the weight room.

“Gabriel’s assistant,” I said, “has come with a proposition.”

“Hi.” Rika approached her with an outstretched hand. “I’m Erika Fane.”

Banks simply looked at her. Her eyes fell to Rika’s, a hint of disdain on her face before she turned away again, ignoring her.

Rika glanced at me with a question in her eyes, and then she pulled her hand away, taking a seat at the table.

We all followed suit, sitting down.

Banks took something out from inside her jacket and set it on the table, face up. It was a photo. She pushed it slowly across the wooden table toward me, and I studied the small head shot of a young woman I didn’t recognize. Dark blonde hair, blue eyes, angelic face, pretty enough…. Definitely Michael’s type. Her high cheekbones were tinted pink, and her mouth looked like a candy apple. Young and beautiful.

“Who’s this?” I asked as everyone silently inched closer to get a better look at the picture.

“Vanessa Nikova,” Banks replied. “Mr. Torrance’s niece.”

“And?” I sat back in my chair, trying to appear relaxed.

“And this is far more than just trading a hotel for a prodigal son, don’t you think?” She eyed me, a condescending look on her face. “Mr. Torrance wants undoubted assurance that you and your friends will bring no harm to his son or his family. It’s going to require more of an investment than just money.”

She looked down at the picture again. “She’s very beautiful.”

I narrowed my eyes on her. Beautiful? What?

They thought I wanted to buy the hotel, but what did this have to do with the arrangement?