Burning Moth

Chapter Four, Part One - Dearly Departed

Ahead, the Fairway loomed–the White House of our town–a dreamy, snow-colored mansion, reigning over several acres of lawn still as fresh and bright as spring. Long ago, the Fairway had been renovated into a country club so exclusive it was Jay Z's hundredth problem. Tonight, it was mine. Once Chloe and I traded the sidewalk for the grass, that was when the night became real. Adrenaline spiked my veins, and my heart beat a crazy, erratic rhythm, dancing like the last fireflies of the season.

Chloe veered to the left and I followed close behind, heading towards the southeast edge of the property. We reached the mansion's towering brick wall and kept beneath its shadow, the best-dressed intruders to ever gatecrash a party.

We turned the corner, slowing as we scoped the rear wall of the mansion. The coast was clear, save patio furniture and the precarious, twelve-foot ladder reclining against the building. Against the property's spotlessness, it stuck out like a giant silver thorn.

"Our guy should already be upstairs," said Chloe. I trailed her footsteps to the ladder's base. "If he asks for your mark, show him--the story is, we're here to meet a client. And try not to make too much conversation. The guy's a total desperado; blackmailing you into a one-night stand is kind of his thing."

"Huh. He sounds kind of like this stalker I once had..."

"Oh yeah, Liar? Sounds hot."

"It was. He broke it off because he thought things were getting too serious."

Chloe rolled her eyes and grabbed the ladder. A bombshell in a red cocktail dress separated at the midriff, she climbed the rungs quick and easy, smooth like an athlete, graceful as a model. Within seconds she had reached the third floor window, and was tapping on the glass for entry. A moment later the window slid up, and a pair of hands pulled my friend through the window.

My turn.

Chloe made this sneaking-around business look easy, but I felt like a clumsy dumbass fumbling my way up the ladder. I hated how the ground shrank with each step, and how every once in a while my heels would slide across the metal rungs, forcing me to hold onto the ladder tighter than my last breath. By the time I reached the window, my life had flashed before my eyes so many times, I finally realized why I resented my mother.

Thank god Chloe's connect was already waiting–a pale, shifty-looking bastard, with big, dark eyes that didn't mesh with his other rat-like features at all.

"Seriously, dude, you gotta get me off this ladder," I said. "At this point, the world is now my gynecologist."

Grinning, he leaned from the window and pulled me through it, into the darkness.

"You're way too cute to need personality, but I dig it," he said, as he helped me to my feet. "Hannigan can really pick em'..."

"Yeah, and I don't do credit, buddy--which makes me out of your price range." I pushed him back, smoothing my hair and dress as I took a moment to establish the surroundings.

My eyes were still adjusting to the dark, but from what I could tell, we were in a sitting area that had probably been a guest room in another life. The bed was still there and made, but the bookcases and the shelves were bare, and if I opened up the dressers and the armoire I knew they'd be empty too.

"Down, Lorenzo," Chloe commanded, the angel in red. "Your debt is officially square--now run along back to the kitchen, and cool your heels in the fryer. Sasha and I are on the clock."

"Is that so?" His answer was for Chloe, but Lorenzo's smile was all mine. "Well, if you're supposed to be here, then why not use the front door, like people without warrants?"

When Chloe didn't answer, Lorenzo's smirk widened in crooked-teeth triumph. I scowled in distaste, noticing his chef's uniform was soiled with the stench of seafood.

"For your information, our client happens to be into extreme roleplay," I replied, hands on hips. "He's paying us to fake-assassinate him--with real weapons. And next time you grope me for free, I won't fake it when I kill you--now step."

Bug eyes widened, Lorenzo obeyed and stepped aside.

"So the client would probably prefer if you take him by surprise," Chloe said. "And try not to draw too much attention. He's got a lot of friends at this party. They'll be watching."

She said friends, but I knew Chloe really meant family. The jig wasn't up, but Nicholias was surrounded. Another ball in his court.

Question was, could he bring a better A-game than me?

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