"Ah! Tavia," Bobby Clarence blurted as Dragos came to a halt right in front of her, struck by the sight of the young woman mere inches from his face. She took an abrupt step back, her intelligent gaze snapping from Dragos's intrigued smile to her employer's smooth grin. The senator placed his hand on Dragos's shoulder. "Drake, have you met my personal aide, Tavia Fairchild?"
"A pleasure," he purred, dipping his head in greeting.
"Mr. Masters," she replied, accepting his offered hand and giving it a brief but firmly professional shake. "We haven't had the opportunity to meet, but I recognize your name from various correspondence of the senator's."
"Tavia's memory for names and faces is uncanny," boasted her proud boss. "She's my secret weapon, always keeping me on time and in the know. Or at least, trying to."
"I have no doubt," Dragos replied, hardly able to take his eyes off the woman. Dark lashes shuttered her spring-leaf green gaze almost anxiously in the instant before her attention flicked away from him, leaving him to wonder if on some instinctual level the female sensed he was more than he appeared beneath his conservative suit and cashmere coat. Dragos remained fascinated by her, enthralled really, as she turned to the senator and handed him a small gift-wrapped box festooned with a red ribbon and a cheery sprig of fresh holly. "For the chairman's wife. It's an antique brooch I found at a shop on Newbury Street last weekend. I figured since she collects cameos - "
"What'd I tell you, Drake?" Bobby Clarence said, jerking his perfectly square chin in her direction as he took the gift and gave it a little rattle. "Secret weapon. She's always making me look better than I really am."
Tavia Fairchild seemed to take the praise in stride, remaining unflappably on task. "Shall I call down to the garage and ask them to bring the car around for you, Senator Clarence?"
"Yeah, that'd be great, Tavia. Thanks." The senator clapped Dragos companionably on the shoulder again as his pretty aide pivoted back toward her desk and picked up her phone to summon his driver. "Can I persuade you to come along, Drake? We could talk some more, and I'd be happy to introduce you to some of the good folks at tonight's First Responders benefit. I think you'd find a lot of like-minded individuals who'd enjoy sharing their thoughts with you on some of the things we've been discussing."
Dragos allowed an indulgent smile. "I'm afraid I couldn't possibly." His sights were set a bit higher than the union yokels of the city's firefighters and police departments. "Thank you for the offer. However, I really should go now."
"You sure?" the senator pressed with a winning grin. "The food alone will be worth it. Those guys love to eat. You would too, especially at five hundred bucks a plate, prepared by the best Italian chef in the North End."
"Alas," Dragos demurred, "I maintain a very strict diet. Italian food does not agree with me."
"Ah, I'm sorry to hear it." Bobby Clarence chuckled as he strode over to a nearby closet and shrugged into an expensive-looking silk-lined coat. "You will be at the holiday party tomorrow night at my place, won't you?"
Dragos gave him a nod. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
"Excellent. Tavia really knocked herself out, putting the whole shindig together for me -
right down to the hand-inscribed invitations."
"Is that so?" Dragos turned another appraising look on the young female, who had since retrieved her own coat and handbag and was in the process of shutting down her computer and putting the office phones on voicemail.
"I'm not supposed to announce this publicly," Senator Clarence added, "but we've confirmed a surprise guest of honor tomorrow evening. A good friend and mentor of mine from my Cambridge days. Someone I'm certain you'll be interested to meet, Drake."
Chapter Twenty
Although the young politician was playing at subtlety, Dragos needed no further hint to guess that the VIP and good friend of Bobby Clarence was none other than his favored college professor who had hitched his savvy wagon to another rising star and landed in the secondhighest seat of power in the country. It was that very connection that had made Bobby Clarence so valuable to Dragos.
By tomorrow night, Dragos would own the minds - and souls - of both men.
"Until then," he said, reaching out to the senator and giving the unsuspecting human's hand an enthusiastic pump. He glanced at Bobby Clarence's pretty assistant and offered a courtly bow of his head. "Miss Fairchild, a pleasure to finally meet you."
With her shrewd gaze following him, and the senator's optimistic good-bye echoing into the adjacent hallway, Dragos exited the office and headed for the elevator. By the time he reached the street level and climbed into his own waiting limousine, his cheeks burned from the wide spread of his contented, unabashedly eager, smile.
It took about an hour to make the drive to the safe house the Order had arranged for them. They were several miles off the highway, traveling along an unpaved road that led them deeper into an area of low-lying marshlands and clusters of eerie, moss-strewn cypress. As Hunter made a turn into an unmarked driveway - Corinne assumed it was a driveway - the car's headlights illuminated several pairs of glowing yellow eyes hovering at ground level up ahead. The dense scrub brush shook as the swamp creatures hiding within it scurried back into the gloom of their wild domain.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Corinne asked as Hunter drove deeper into the darkness. "It doesn't look like anywhere someone would put a house."
"There is no mistake," he replied. "This is where Amelie Dupree resides."