An Affair of Vengeance by Jamie Michele Read Free Book Online Page A

to believe that Lukas Kral is worth more to us free than imprisoned.” Mason shifted forward in his seat and made brief eye contact with her. Then he looked away again, back to his newspaper, this time to study the sports section. “You’d be wise to remember that the Agency is in the business of avoiding federal investigations, not initiating them.”
    His tone gave away nothing, but his face wasn’t perfectly impassive. Between his eyes ran a trace of a line, the thinnest thread of emotion.
    “Where did McCrea go?” she asked again, sensing that Mason was softening.
    “A hotel.”
    She withheld any indication of victory, but she had a pilot hole established. She just had to keep drilling. “I can track him. I’ll sit outside his hotel until he shows his face, and I’ll follow him to the meet. Disguised. You know I’m good at that. Best in my class. Give me the chance.”
    Mason eyed her over his paper. “Why do you care so much?”
    Her answer came without thought. “Because he’s mine.”
    “Yours?”
    “My asset,” she clarified, sure that was what she’d meant. “My find. The best one I’ve had yet. And I’m not letting Langley sit on him.”
    He folded his newspaper and stood, curling one hand around a rounded steel rail as his body rocked with the motion of the train. His eyes shimmered aqua blue, like arctic ice. Withotherwise unremarkable features, Mason was exactly the sort of indescribable, inconspicuous man that the Agency loves to recruit. Impossible to pick out of a crowd, he was the most inscrutable man she’d ever met. She had no idea what he was about to say.
    “Meet me in six hours at the storehouse. I’ll bring what you need. You’re going in.”

    Early the next morning, Evangeline lounged on a cream-colored sofa in the crystal-and-concrete lobby of the Metro Hotel. Razorsharp black bangs hung thickly in her eyes, and the rest of her naturally curly hair had been straightened and slicked into a very high ponytail. Very fashionable right now, or so the most current issue of
Vogue
had told her when she’d gone hunting for authentic details for her disguise that morning. As she gossiped in French to an open line on her cell phone, she applied a fresh coat of bright orange lipstick—the color of the moment, again according to
Vogue
. With an exaggerated look at the dangling silver watch on her left wrist, she sighed.
    Playing the part of a rich party girl waiting for her breakfast date couldn’t be further from the truth of what tumbled inside of her. Between the late return to her apartment, the hours of report writing, and the early planning session with Mason, she’d hardly gotten any sleep last night. Her nerves jangled from three cups of coffee, but she’d never felt sharper and more ready for a mission.
    Two bottle-blonde twentysomethings in sexy sundresses exited the glass-walled elevator and approached the couch where she sat. They dropped their bags and collapsed next to her, never halting their rapid conversation in slang-filled French. She picked up bits and pieces. Cheating boyfriends, new jeans. The usual concerns of spoiled girls, and easy enough to share. She caughtthe artificially green eyes of one and said something about how much she liked her Gucci handbag. The girl’s smile widened, and she let her examine it while exclaiming over Evangeline’s bag in return. Evangeline couldn’t care less about the oversized Prada satchel she’d received from Mason that morning, but she made sure the girl didn’t open it. The small case of burglary tools tucked in a side pocket would be hard to explain.
    Gleaming glass doors swung open and admitted a breath of spicy cologne, followed shortly thereafter by one of the most visually arresting men Evangeline had ever seen. He was a sparkling specimen in pale linen whose long, jet-black hair was held in place by a simple golden knot. Thick but neatly groomed facial hair outlined his broad jaw. His imperious brown eyes glowered