Sins of the Undead Patriot (41 page)

“I can’t wait to see who the individual is.” The glee in the agent’s tone held more than a note of interest, and caught the attention of the hairs on the back of Rowley’s neck.

Organized through the Army of the Living, he had alternative transportation. Mr. DeGruis could choose to dispose of him after the deed was done, which was why Rowley didn’t intended to meet up with the agent again.

Mr. DeGruis stood, and he did as well.

“I don’t expect we’ll need to meet again until after the main event.” Rowley led him back to the entrance where he’d parked his van.

“Very well, but if you do have a need, you know how I can be reached.” Mr. DeGruis buttoned his jacket.

“Indeed, I do.” He opened the door. “I hope to see Vaihan’s true nature come to light soon. The CIA is taking its sweet time naming him as the suspected culprit for the attempt on the president’s life.”

“They are about to get some help from another department in identifying a certain type of military bomb making and who invented the technique. Who knew they were so incompetent?”

Seemed everyone, other than the rival department. “We need enough time to have passed between him being named and the ball to ensure Leera can lure
it
to the ball.”

The CIA wasn’t the only department that employed incompetent staff.

Chapter 53

Where was the creepy Fed when Leera needed him? She paced back and forth in the rear of the lingerie store. With how busy Rowley and Devin were, they’d agreed to drop her off to do some shopping for the trip. Aside from her SOS text to Barton, it should be obvious to the Fed that she was waiting on him, being that she didn’t spend much time at the mall shopping.

She was about to live off the beaten path awhile. Where would she find sexy undergarments? Rowley enjoyed it when she wore naughty things, so he’d given her cash to spend on whatever she liked, with the promise to purchase some items of his taste. Men had the worst taste in underwear. Crotchless didn’t count as a panty, in her opinion, not that Rowley shared hers.

She’d nearly tried on every darn piece of flimsy fabric in the place. The clerks all moved toward the cash register. One of the young women held her BlackBerry in the center. They hushed each other and leaned in closer. Leera got up and when over to the group.

“Late breaking news,” came from the BlackBerry. “The president was released from the hospital with only minor injuries after the recent attempt on her life. The CIA are currently looking to speak with Vaihan Louchian. When asked by one reporter why, the director simply said Mr. Louchian is an individual of interest. If anyone has seen or heard from Mr. Louchian, they are asked to contact the authorities. Under no circumstances are you to approach him.”

What the hell was happening? Vaihan wouldn’t harm the president. Leera had been with him the night of the attempted assassination on the president. Something more was going on.

“Oh, honey, sorry I’m late.” Barton pulled her close and kissed her on the mouth.

Leera froze. The last thing she wanted was that man’s lips on hers. She bit him.

“Shit, that hurt.” He didn’t release her. “You’re up for the rough stuff tonight?”

“Sorry, hon, you know I get cranky when you’re late.” She forced a smile.

He nodded. Anger shone in his hazel eyes. At some point, he would make her pay for that one. But if he took the burden off her shoulders, so be it.

“I’d like to see this number on you.” He lifted up a mesh black body suit.

“Oh, you missed it, baby. It’s one of the first things I tried on, and I’ve already put that one in the basket.” She grabbed the hanger and tugged.

“Indulge Daddy.” Barton held onto the suit and guided her back to the changing rooms.

Asshole. There would be no talking him out of this. She stepped into the larger of the four compartments and closed the curtain.

He licked his lips and leaned in. “To keep up appearances, undress.”

Nearly shaking with anger, she cocked her brow and sucked her teeth. “I don’t think so.”

He grabbed her arm and spun her around. His hand moved over her breast to the button of her blouse. “Either you do it or I will.”

Fucking asshole. The last thing she wanted was his hands on her body. The way he enjoyed groping her was sick.

“Let me, baby.” She turned and faced him.

Lust gleamed in his hazel eyes and his breathing slowed.

Leera took off her garment, placed it on the hook on the back wall. Reminder to self–she’d have no association with persons of interest to the government after this. She unbuttoned her blouse and placed the fabric on the hook.

Barton leaned into her. “So what do you have to share with me, Ms. Waltz?”

If Vaihan was working for the CIA, why did they believe he had something to do with the attempt on the president’s life? It didn’t add up. Unless, they were deflecting the attention from Rowley to Vaihan to catch him in the act.

“Rowley wants me to lure Vaihan to the signing of the Bill of Undead Rights, so he can frame him for blowing the place up.” Shocking, how clear the information came out, as it wasn’t that clear in her mind. She unlatched her bra and lowered the fabric from her nipples.

“You are sure about this?” Gleaming, his beady gaze traveled over her exposed flesh.

“Hell, yeah. He asked me to contact Vaihan. This is Rowley we are talking about.” Another fucking test of her loyalties to him. She lowered her pants, and they pooled on the floor.

“Great. I want you to do exactly what he tells you to do and keep me informed at each step.” He cleared his throat. “Take this cellphone. I want you to text the programmed number, who, what, where, and when as events develop.”

She shimmied her thong down her thighs. “Did you not hear what I just said to you? He wants me to help frame Vaihan for a bomb he is planting to blow up the historic signing of the first Bill of Undead Rights in the world.” She removed the mesh fabric from the hanger, slipped her feet in, pulled it up and adjusted the see-through material over her breasts.

“Given that the man killed your beloved Jean, I’m surprised you are this concerned about what he is being blamed for.”

As a federal agent, he would have access to the information in a file somewhere, and yet he still asked her to see him. “You, asshole. You knew.”

“Don’t feel too bad. You’re a trick like any other.” He smiled. “Rowley is brilliant. He is using the fact that you slept with his enemy to his advantage. How much do you think you mean to him?”

She shoved him.

Barton grinned, unfazed. “I’ve got to run, hon, but you definitely have my approval to buy this number.”

“Screw you.”

“I wish you would.” He slid the cell in the pocket of her pants hanging on the hook.

None of this added up. If Vaihan was working for the CIA, why would they frame him? Maybe the Army of the Living started to suspect Vaihan as an agent.

Shit. This was the mother of all setups and she was going to be the last nail in his coffin.

* * * *

Leera might very well be committing treason. Not that she was left with any choice. The president’s life hung in the balance. She didn’t know where else to go. And if Rowley caught her, she might as well kill herself. Nothing would be right after this between them.

The parking lot was deserted as the cab drove away. She took several long strides to the door and pulled. The door was locked. She banged. There must be a cleaner or someone else inside. Someone had to be around because Vaihan had told her recovering addicts lived on the upper floor.

She pounded again, but harder this time. Nothing. Clutching the collar of her jacket around her neck, she walked around the outside of the building. The windows were reflective and she couldn’t see in. Cold wind moved right through her. A metal staircase led up the side of the building to a metal door. Please, let someone be there.

On her way up, she hitched her heel in the grid, and yanked her shoe loose. She hustled to the top. With her fist, she hit the door. Footsteps moved toward her on the other side with a heavy clunk.

The door swung open. “So we meet again. I had a feeling we would, though Vaihan was sure he’d seen the last of you.”

It wasn’t like she wanted to be there. If she had a way of getting out of this she would. “Dominique?”

“You got it.” The dark-skinned beauty gestured for her to enter. “The CIA has raided us twice, and they didn’t find Vaihan. Idiots. I explained to them that Vaihan is a friend and wouldn’t put us at risk by coming here. Nor would he contact us.” With a grin, she glanced at her. “If he did, however, I would totally hide him.” Her voice rose. “They think we don’t know they have our place wired.”

Ah. Shit. She shouldn’t have gone there. If Barton found out, she was dead for compromising his case.

“I’ll let Errol know that I’m going to drop you off at home.” Dominique shook her head.

So the woman wouldn’t be dropping Leera off at home. Not that she could go there anyway.

Dominique pointed to one of the women in the room who was about Leera’s height, and moved her fingers in a rotating motion.

The girl began to undress. What the hell was she doing? The girl held her shirt out for Leera. Oh. She wanted them to switch clothing. Leera removed her coat.

* * * *

After Dominique and the young woman left, Leera and Errol sat in silence. Though his features weren’t like Vaihan’s, the hue of his skin and the shape of his bald head reminded her of when Vaihan held more of the unique zombie traits. Something about Vaihan in that state held another level of beauty and had been as though he wasn’t able to hide behind all the human distractions like hair, skin pigment and eyes.

Errol got up and jerked his head.

Where he was taking her, she didn’t know, and it didn’t really matter at this point. Rowley and Barton would know she hadn’t gone straight home. So she was a good as dead. Tomorrow was the Valentine’s Ball.

“I’m only taking you, because Dom told me I had to.” He stared at her.

Good to know who was the boss between those two. She was grateful all the same. How had Dominique found it in herself to trust an undead when she’d been abused by them? What were the more logistical ways she herself would find to cope with the difference between a human and undead mate?

They went into an attached, beat-up garage. She stepped over tires and tools.

“You can duck down low to the floor of the backseat.” He pointed as he opened the door.

She was dressed in another woman’s clothing about to crouch down on the floor of a car.

What the hell could she have been thinking, to get herself into this? Vaihan’s life. Could he die? She feared so.

“Thank you.” She climbed in.

Errol got in in the front and peeked over the seat at her. “I expected you to be more of a talker.”

A strange, offhanded comment. Did that mean he expected her to complain? “I’m worried.” And she was. If the authorities got hold of Vaihan, they would crucify him. The entire future of Errol’s kind hung in the balance.

The car rolled forward. “Vaihan is methodical. You have no idea how he has struggled with what happened the night of your husband’s accident. He’s one of the noblest undead or living blokes I know.”

Nothing he’d said was news to her. Vaihan would indeed feel a great amount of guilt for what happened with her husband.

“I will pull into a parking space by the stairs. You will run to the ground floor, cross the street, enter the car park, go all the way to the stairs on the other side to exit. Along the street, a white van will be waiting for you and take you the rest of the way. I’ll be right behind you.” Errol handed her a paper.

The instructions were different than the ones he’d given her. She was to enter the mall, exit the north entrance and get into a gray Montana.

As the vehicle came to a stop, Leera ran down to the front between the cars and the wall. To the mall door, where a large crowd of people had gathered. She weaved her way through the gathered mass, headed north. The Montana was parked in front of a fire hydrant.

She pulled the passenger-side door open.

Chapter 54

Vaihan reached down, grabbed Leera’s forearm, pulled her inside, shut the door and hit the gas. “Seat belt. Now.” God, she was beautiful. And Dominique had lied to him. Shit. If he’d known it was Leera, he wouldn’t have come. He pressed the door lock button twice.

The corner of her mouth curved up in that sexy way he loved, as she latched her belt. “Thank you.”

If they were caught, that was the last thing she’d be saying to him. He yanked the strap, once, twice and then a third time. “Do you know how much danger you’ve just put yourself in?” No matter what she may think of him, he never wanted to be the cause of her pain. Yet he couldn’t stop the thrill and excitement inside, because she’d come to him.

“Yes,” she chimed in, nodding vigorously.

“Why would you take such a risk after what happened–what I did–what you believe of me?” Part of him wanted to believe she cared about him. Or, even hated him. That was something, an emotion of some sort.