Wicked Edge (Realm Enforcers, #2)(53)
His gaze didn’t soften. “You don’t want to cross me on this.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m neither crossing you nor arguing with you.” In fact, she was finished trying to convince him of anything. They’d had a good time, and now it was over. Well, it would be over after they finished robbing one of the most secure banks in the world.
Really. What could go wrong?
Daire found himself surrounded by demons in a small hotel room, and his ears began to itch. Too much tension poured off the immortals as they double checked the plan and went over the bank schematics one more time. All furniture had been piled against the wall so they could suit up, and their boots clomped on the smooth tile floor. The room lacked sufficient windows and fresh air to allow for the amount of tension.
Felicity slammed a plastic knife into one boot, leaning over to do so. Her creamy breasts almost spilled out from her top, and he fought a growl.
“Since Simone appears to own the safe-deposit box, I’ll go in as her and try to reach the inner vault,” she said, her throaty voice strong and assured. “While there, I’ll set the charges on the other security boxes, and the second they blow, you all come in.”
Daire straightened his Armani suit. They’d gone over the schematics and plan several times, and the woman certainly had accounted for everything. He was to accompany her as a bodyguard, and even he had to admit, the fake beard and the gray sprinkled in his hair appeared authentic. Brown contacts masked his green eyes, and putty changed the shape of his face, especially his nose.
Felicity wore a long, brown wig, dark glasses, and several layers of clothing to create the illusion of Simone’s natural curves. The boots had four-inch heels, but even so, she didn’t come close to Simone’s height. But there wasn’t a better way to create height, so they were going with what they had. At some point, when the video was studied, it’d become apparent that the woman who’d robbed the bank was not Simone Brightston, which eased one of his many concerns.
He rolled his shoulders back and tried to calm his racing heart. The shifters guarding the place would recognize him as a witch just from his natural vibrations, and hopefully they’d assume Felicity was, too.
Her people were all demons, so it made sense for him to go in with the Simone decoy.
Felicity turned, all business, her eyes sparkling.
The damn woman was having a ball.
Energy poured off her in straight anticipation, and she nearly hopped when she neared him. “You ready?” she asked.
He wanted to tuck her in the getaway vehicle and tie her up safely, but for the plan to work, she had to impersonate Simone. “No.”
She smiled, all excitement. “Good. Let’s go.” Shoving the dark glasses back up her nose, she stepped out of the storage van and walked crisply down the sidewalk toward the bank.
“I think I should be inside for backup,” Adam complained once again from his position in the getaway car.
Daire tapped his earbud as island heat assaulted him. “I need you outside ready to get us out of here.” If they ran into trouble, Adam had the biggest brain around and would figure out an escape route. “I can’t believe we’re about to do this.” If he had his druthers, he’d just take out half the bank with a missile and steal what he wanted. Felicity had finesse, though.
He stalked behind her, rolling his shoulders forward and trying to appear shorter than he was. He followed her, noting how her ass swung with every step. Damn it. Now wasn’t the time to admire her ass.
He swung his gaze around, trying to look like a hired bodyguard and not an enforcer. All he needed was the shifter nation to know a Coven Nine enforcer had tried to rob them. Either there’d be instant war, or his people would have to give up something big to avoid bloodshed. Tourists in loud flowered shirts milled around, and several people licked rapidly melting ice cream cones. Tourist shops with sparkling jewels and oil paintings lined the way.
The heels of Felicity’s boots clicked as she sauntered into the air-conditioned bank.
He breathed out as the cool air smoothed over his skin.
A wide counter to the left held five tellers, all handling customers. Three desks with bank executives lined the windows on the right, and they all had patrons before them.
The place felt like money and smelled like the ocean.
Felicity moved instantly toward a desk at the back as if she had every right to do so, her heels clomping on the silver tiles. The woman had some serious style.
A guy dressed in pure silk sat behind the desk. Tall, broad, and in fighting shape, he had eyes that sparkled with intelligence. Wolf shifter. He smiled. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Simone Brightston,” Felicity said, her voice higher than normal. “I called earlier.”
“Of course, Miss Brightston. Do you have identification?” the shifter asked, standing.
Felicity handed over the identification she’d stolen from Simone’s apartment the first night. It had been altered a bit.
Daire stood with his arms crossed, discreetly scoping out the cameras. There were a lot of them. He could make out seven guards within yelling distance.
Finally, the guy led them through a long hallway lined with pretty oil paintings to a massive steel vault flanked by two fully armed guards. “I am Anton, and I’m here to assist you in any way you need.” He turned and apologized. “I’m so sorry, but we must follow formalities first.”