Bitter Bite (Elemental Assassin #14)(69)

sparkling silver gown, along with a scarlet silk wrap, which she pulled off

and tossed onto one of the sofas, along with her silver clutch. Hugh Tucker

trailed in behind her, texting on his phone.

She eyed him a moment, then went over to the wet bar in one corner of the

living room and poured herself a healthy amount of whiskey. She threw back the

drink, poured herself another, and tossed it back too. She could give Mallory

and her moonshine a run for their money.

Tucker finally looked up from his phone and raised his eyebrows at her.

Deirdre snorted, but then she poured drinks for both of them, even going so

far as to walk across the penthouse and hand it to him.

She kicked off her stilettos, sprawled across a sofa, and propped one foot up

on the glass table in front of her. The entire sequence of moves was eerily

similar to what I’d seen Finn do a hundred times before. Like it or not, he

had more than a little of his mother in him.

Tucker sat down on the other end of the sofa, his drink in one hand and his

phone in the other.

“I thought that tonight went exceptionally well, didn’t you?” Deirdre

asked.

“Mmm.” That was Tucker’s only response.

“The exhibit was lovely, and everything went off without a hitch,” she

continued, obviously fishing for a compliment, but Tucker kept ignoring her.

Deirdre frowned, but either he didn’t see her annoyed expression or didn’t

care about it. No assistant worth his salt would treat his boss like that. Not

if he wanted to keep his job. So why didn’t Deirdre just fire him and hire

someone who would fawn over her night and day?

“Are you sure everything’s set for tomorrow?” Tucker asked, finally setting

his phone down. “You can’t afford to have any problems.”

I frowned. The way he said that—“you can’t afford to have any problems”—

was rather ominous. Tucker made it sound like Deirdre was in more dire straits

than I’d imagined. She was a rich, powerful, and well-connected Ice

elemental, so what did she have to worry about? The more I learned about

Deirdre Shaw, the less sense I could make of her.

“Everything is set,” she said. “Don’t worry, Tucker, honey. Everything

will go exactly according to my plan. I guarantee it.”

“Yes, you have guaranteed it, haven’t you?” Tucker raised his glass in a

toast. “Well, then. Here’s to your guarantees.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she raised her glass too, and the two of them downed

their drinks.

Deirdre’s phone beeped. She took it out of her clutch and read the message, a

smile curving her lips. She sent back a quick text, then put her phone down on

the glass table, got to her feet, and wandered over to the windows. She stared

out into the night, almost as if she could see me watching her from across the

street, but I was too well hidden in the shadows for that.

Not for the first time, I wished that I could just take her out with a sniper

rifle. Bing, bang, boom. But Finn would never forgive me, especially not now,

when he was so certain that her intentions were good.

“Is Blanco going to be a problem?” Tucker asked in a bored voice, texting on

his phone again. “I heard your conversation at the museum. Nice way to twist

a knife in her back, bringing up your ex the way you did. Then again, that’s

something you excel at.”

My ears perked up. That was the first time Tucker had said anything remotely

interesting since I’d been watching him and Deirdre, and it was the first

time he’d done anything to acknowledge my existence besides nod at me

whenever he came into the Pork Pit with her. Plus, a snide tone sharpened his

voice, as if he was almost mocking her.

“Of course not,” Deirdre said. “I told you that I would deliver, and I

will. You should have more faith in me.”

Tucker snorted, but he kept right on texting, as if he’d already dismissed me

and any potential problems I might cause from his thoughts.

“Gin Blanco is a suspicious little bitch,” Deirdre said, coldness creeping

into her voice. “But she is predictable. Just like Fletcher was.”

And that was the first time Mama Dee had ever let her true feelings for me

show through her big, bawdy persona. Maybe tonight would finally be the night

I got something that I could take to Finn, some sort of proof that she wasn’t

what she seemed. I made sure that the microphone and camera were picking up

her every word and movement. Then I leaned forward, willing her to say more

about Fletcher, willing her to spill her guts to Tucker about everything that

had really happened between her and the old man.

“Do you know what the bad thing is about being predictable?” Deirdre

continued. “It makes you weak. It makes you vulnerable.”

She paused a moment and leaned even closer to the windows, smiling all the

while. “Isn’t that right, Gin?”