Chapter 10

10

Thala

I spent the better part of the morning digging into PragueCog and its board members. I'd met a couple of them at gala events, but Petros was more familiar with them. However, with the access Hank had given me, it was like a veritable rabbit hole. This man was proving more useful than merely saving my ass.

Hank had gone into town and trusted me enough to leave me alone. He said he wanted to show me around soon, but we needed to work on my disguise and that was what he was picking up in town, wherever town was.

I was so engrossed in what I was reading, I didn't hear a vehicle arrive until car doors slammed. I tensed and got up from my chair and moved to the window. Hank couldn't have returned so soon. I had seen nothing of civilization on our way here. Granted, it was nighttime, but still…

Two men in suits were standing in front of a Land Cruiser, staring at the cabin.

"No one's here," the bulkier of the two said.

"I heard from Mr. Buchanan that his cousin has arrived." The second one was skinnier, with a receding hairline and rectangular spectacles.

"Think he'll be the one to convince the old man to sell?"

"Maybe. Let's look around."

"Why? We're going to tear the whole thing down, anyway," Bulky Suit said.

What?

"Shame. I heard the cabin was recently renovated."

Their voices filtered away. They must have gone to the back of the house. I walked back to the table and texted Hank that someone was here.

The sound of screeching tires drew my attention, so I walked back to the windows.

What now?

Someone yelled, "The nerve of you people showing up unannounced!"

Peeking through the curtains, the newcomer was a man with a shock of white hair and a thick mustache. He reminded me of the gunslingers of old western films.

"Mr. Buchanan, we're here to see your nephew. This is his property."

The newcomer must be Hank's uncle?

"You're still trespassing."

"Listen, old man," Bulky Suit said and gained my narrowed eyes. He casually knocked back the flap of his jacket and exposed the gun he had in a shoulder harness.

"We're going to offer your family a fair deal," Skinny Suit said. "You don't have to make this too difficult."

"You don't scare me."

Hell no were they intimidating an old man.

I grabbed the baseball cap and the pairs of glasses Hank let me try earlier when we played with my disguise. I grabbed two knives from the knife block and stormed outside.

"What's going on here?" I asked.

The three men turned to me in surprise.

"Well, who do we have here?" Skinny Suit asked.

"I'm a guest in this house."

"Mr. Buchanan's girlfriend?"

"I'm not answering anything. Clearly you guys haven't made an appointment."

The man who'd exposed his gun earlier smirked. "What are you going to do with those knives, little girl?"

Little girl? Seriously?

I threw the knife, and it pierced right at the tip of Bulky Suit's shoe, leaving no doubt about my aiming skills.

"What the fuck?" he growled. "What the actual fuck."

"The next one's going to hit you between your legs. Get out of here."

I descended the steps with a lazy gait.

Skinny Suit was obviously the politician between the two. "Our apologies, Miss…"

"None of your business," I returned and tipped my chin. "Leave."

"Mr. Buchanan won't be pleased with how we were treated."

"I'll make sure to tell him you came by and disrespected his uncle."

"Come on," Skinny Suit said to his companion. "We'll take it up with the Buchanan who actually has power."

They got back into the Land Cruiser, spinning tires, and narrowly missing Hank's uncle's beat-up pickup.

"You should have minded your own business." Time and maybe a fondness for cigars or cigarettes had graveled the old man's voice.

I wasn't expecting gratitude, but what was his problem? I kept my mouth shut and let my eyes do the talking.

"You should have stayed inside. Hank said you wanted privacy. That's why I came down here when the alarms tripped up."

"Excuse me, the other guy had a gun."

"And I should have brought my shotgun, but I've dealt with Fisker before."

"I haven't. So excuse me if I didn't want them bullying an ol— someone like you."

He scoffed while stalking back to his vehicle,"Old man. You can say it."

"I guess you don't want to come in?"

"Tell Hank I stopped by and to come see me when he's done with whatever shit he's doing for you."

Oh hell no, I wasn't letting this go. I stomped over to the driver's side. "I don't know what your problem is—"

"You think that knife-throwing trick is going to get them to back off?" he said. "No. Hank was supposed to be up here to take care of this shit. Instead, he's in town because he said"—he did air quotes over the he said —"that he had to take care of something first. Something tells me that something has to do with you. So yes, the sooner he's done doing what he needs doing for you, have him come see me." He gunned the engine on the old pickup. It sputtered a bit. "Goddammit." Even his poor pickup didn't escape his sour temper. It roared to life. Temperamental, probably like its owner. He addressed me again, "The sooner the better. Because, as you've just witnessed, the vultures are circling."

Then, like the two suits, he screeched off the property.

And I stood there and wondered if people in this town were rude as hell.

Half an hour later, Hank returned. After two unexpected visits, I opened the curtains so I could see vehicles enter the property.

He hurried up the steps and opened the door. "You should keep this locked," was the first thing he said when he strode in. "And the curtains drawn." He pulled them back to obscure my view of the front yard.

"I enjoy working with a view," I told him.

"Then you should try sitting out back." He approached the kitchen table, lowered the box he had under one arm, and put both hands on the back of one chair.

"I see you've met the property developers."

"Yes." My eyes returned to the screen.

"You've also met Uncle Jim."

"He's a rude man."

"He's all right most times. He's just annoyed that I had other things to take care of first."

I gave a deep exhalation. "Are you saying I should give him a pass for his behavior? I tried to save his ass."

A frown formed between his brows. "What happened?"

"What do you mean what happened? I thought you saw everything play out on the surveillance."

"I saw Jim and those men exchange words and you throw a knife at the man's foot."

"What vantage point is the camera?"

"Front of the house and there's another camera in one of the trees."

"Okay, one guy had a gun. It was under his jacket and he exposed it as he was talking to your uncle. That's when I stepped outside."

"Fucker," Hank muttered as he brought out his phone and scrolled through it. "His back is toward the camera. Either he knows where the cameras are or it's pure luck."

I tipped my chin toward the box. "What's in there?"

"Kelly sent some stuff to help with your disguise," Hank said. At my blank look, he added, "Kelly is Levi's wife. The big guy—"

"I know who Levi is…the man who discovered the tracker."

"Yep."

"His wife works with your team?"

"On and off. She's the special effects artist of War Maiden ."

Okay, color me impressed because the effects and costume design of the movie were spectacular.

His phone pinged, and the pained expression on his face had me tensing.

"What's going on?"

"Uncle Jim wants to see me."

He typed something in, then his phone pinged again. This time, a smile lifted Hank's cheeks. "He's inviting us to dinner."

"Are you sure that invitation includes me? Because I don't have a high tolerance for grumpy old men."

"Oh, I'm sure it includes you." He pocketed his phone. "Because he said, and I quote, ‘Bring your lady friend. It looks like she needs some food in her.'"

Outraged, I said, "What does he mean? Because I certainly don't look like a puff of wind could take me down."

Hank chuckled. "I don't know what went down between you two, but something tells me dinner will be entertaining."

"Well, I don't think I want to be your entertainment."

"Come on. If he's rude, I'll shut him down."

"If he's rude to me, I can take care of myself. Thank you very much."

"Have you eaten?"

"Not really." As if on cue, my stomach grumbled.

"It's after three. Let's get you a snack, so you're not too snippy."

I was about to retort when I remembered my attitude yesterday morning. "You're right."

"I know I'm right." Hank grinned. "I have experience with hangry women."

Hank

Thala allowed me to color her hair. I was surprised because it was a drastic color change for her. I hated covering her brown hair and natural golden streaks with a flat shade of midnight black. Thala said the pattern of golden highlights was an identifying trait of the women in the House of Targen. The change in hair color alone prompted a radical shift in her appearance.

After I'd given her access to dig into intel, she made a comment that she was liking this spy-craft shit.

Heaven help us.

"How do I look?" she asked when she emerged from the bathroom after blow-drying her hair. Yep, it wasn't easy to identify her as the princess.

And I was trying not to pay attention to how the tiny tee she was wearing clung to her every curve, or what little it was hiding…I could see the outline of a bra and the shadows of her nipples. Thala's tits were high and the edge of the tee hit above her belly button. Her tinier shorts hung low on her hips, and Jesus , those legs were miles long and shapely, I had the urge to slam the door behind her and press her against it. Maybe wrap one leg around my waist.

"Looks…awesome." I gulped. "Superb."

"Superb?" Her mouth lifted in derision. "You need lessons on how to compliment women, Hank?"

"What? Ridiculous." I cleared my throat again. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

She shrugged. "Got it. Where are the clothes? Are those it?" She pointed to a box that contained shopping bags. "She shipped those? How did she find out my size?"

"She studied your family for the movie. She was excited to dress you up and knew exactly what we needed."

She lifted out a long dress. "This is pretty."

I checked the text Kelly sent. "She said she was going for wine country chic, so she's packed faded denim, artisan-inspired clothes, and that…"

"Oh, this is gorgeous." She held up a camel-colored dress with an embroidered front. It hit above the knees. "I love the pleated front."

"Uh, yes, I uh love it too." Something snagged in my throat. "She said to pair those with these tall brown boots."

Thala accepted the boots from me and sat on the bed. When she lifted her leg to slide a boot on, I might have caught a flash of panties. I spun away and pretended to shuffle through the rest of the items Kelly sent. Either she was comfortable with me, teasing the hell out of me, or didn't feel self-conscious like I was at all. I was usually chill with this. I'd been around women operatives before and changing in front of each other was as asexual as could be. But everything with the princess had the opposite effect and these blasted four corners of the cabin with no walls between us was promising to be pure torture.

"How do I look now?"

She spun a pirouette. The dress twirled around her and seduced me.

I resisted the urge to clear another blockage in my throat and held out a pair of glasses. "Put these on."

Thala eagerly grabbed the square-framed tortoise-shell glasses and faced the mirror.

"Not sure I like this pair," she said.

"I think we should stick to black. How about these?"

We swapped the glasses.

"Yeah, they look perfect on you. There's another pair in red. I think with your black hair we should stick to these."

"Funny how glasses can change a person's appearance."

I chuckled. "Superman had it right the first time."

By the time Thala had tried on all the clothes and made a pile of approved ones and discards, it was almost time to see Jim. It also ended my two hours of torture, trying to be clinical about the princess's charms. When she stripped in front of me, it was as if she'd given me a peek past a wall she'd erected against the outside world. And I felt oddly pleased and possessive of the experience.

"Don't you want to ask me what I found out about PragueCog in all my digging today?" Thala asked on our way out the door. She'd decided on a flowy top and riding jeans she tucked into the boots.

"If you'd found a smoking gun, you would have been eager to share it with me and not get distracted by clothes," I said.

I was debating whether to walk up to Uncle Jim's place. He was just a half mile up the road, but decided against it. Thala was wearing her new boots, and I didn't want her to end up with blisters.

But when we got into the SUV, I noticed her glumness and I figured it was because I didn't ask about what she found out. "Was there something that stood out?"

"Not exactly. Three board members are connected to the energy company supplying power to Venusstea."

"No shit," I said. "Direct connection?"

"No. Like you showed me earlier, I looked for layers of ownership and trusts. We need to diagram this."

I started the SUV and drove up the short distance to my uncle's cabin. "Are you telling me to get a whiteboard or something?" I was controlling a grin. I enjoyed teasing her. And just like that, she speared me with a glare.

"I'm serious here."

"All right, since you have a disguise now, I think we could go into town for supplies."

"One of the board members, Sokolov, is a close friend of my brother. They play golf, fence, and play high-stakes poker."

"Does the queen frown at their friendship?"

"Amadea tolerates him."

"It's not uncommon for individuals to own stakes in several industries. And we've already loosely established that several PragueCog members have interests in energy companies including the ones supplying Venusstea with power."

"But why hide it?"

"Tell you what," I said. "Before we go accusing Sokolov of shady dealings, I'll look at the intel. But I think you'll have your hands full charming my uncle tonight."

Our vehicle made a turn into my uncle's property.

"Don't count on it," Thala said under her breath.