Compact with the Devil: A Novel (35 page)

There was a flurry of activity as the girls rifled through their satchels. Nikki pulled on clothes as they were handed to her. A black miniskirt, a red push-up bra, and a bizarre fur-rimmed belly-button-baring turtleneck. The mottled fake fur tickled her stomach.

“No underwear?” asked Nikki, feeling incredibly exposed in the short skirt.

“We’ve been here four days,” said Biter. “They’re all dirty.” Nikki nodded, disappointed, but understanding.

“What size shoe?” asked Biter.

“Seven and a half.” The girls exchanged confused glances.

“What’s that in proper sizes then?”

Nikki squinted, trying to remember her size in English shoes.

“How the hell should I know?” she said at last. “One of you has got to have a pair of shoes that fit.”

“Hold out your foot,” said Vampirella. One by one they held up their feet to Nikki’s, trying to find a match. Nikki cocked her head to one side, trying to shake the vague feeling of Cinderella-ness.

“That’s you then, Sandy,” said Vampirella to Tubby.

“No,” said Tubby stubbornly. “My boots are the only spares I have.”

“You can’t walk properly in them anyway,” said Biter. “You look like a horse.” The other girl nodded and Tubby’s head sank. Reluctantly, the girl reached into her bag and pulled out a pair of enormous boots with thick black rubber soles; tall, square heels; and black laces through heavy metal eyelets.

“Those are going to take forever to get on,” said Nikki doubtfully, eyeing the laces.

“Oh no, they’ve got zippers,” said Tubby. Nikki looked into the girl’s round face and saw a desperate neediness underneath the baby fat. “See?” The girl displayed the zippers that ran up one side of the boots.

“Well, they are pretty cool,” Nikki said, and smiled a little extra.

“I’ve got socks too,” volunteered Tub—Sandy.

Nikki pulled on the red socks and then the boots. The long, black trench coat came next, which did a little something to alleviate Nikki’s feelings of exposure. She flipped her hair out of the coat and turned to look at herself in the mirror. Goth Cinderella
looked back. Her hair, without blow-drying, had gone a bit wild, and the black knee-high boots gave her a decidedly dominatrix appearance.

“You need makeup,” said Biter.

Nikki looked at her fairy god-teens and gave in to temptation. If she was going to wear the boots she might as well wear the eyeliner too. Five minutes later Nikki was fully made up. Risking a glance out of the bathroom door, she saw Cano still standing by the front door.

“Uh, girls,” she said, ducking back into the bathroom. “I don’t suppose any of you have a hat I can borrow? There’s a guy out there I’m not too anxious to meet, and while this outfit might fool him, my hair is a dead giveaway.”

“I don’t think so,” said Vampirella, looking at her followers.

“Oh, wait!” exclaimed Sandy, thumping down her satchel and digging through it. “Here!” Sandy pulled a newsboy cap from the bottom of the bag, dusting off crumbs, eyeliner shavings, and lint. “Forgot I bunged it off my brother.”

“Cool,” said Nikki, taking the cap; it reminded her of Astriz. She rolled her hair in a French twist and pulled the cap on over it, tilting the brim to a rakish angle.

“You look cool,” said Biter. Vampirella nodded in vigorous agreement.

“Come on,” said Vampirella, picking up her bag, “we’ll walk you out.” Nikki shook her head.

“Thanks, girls, but this guy’s dangerous. I don’t want to get anybody hurt.”

“He’s looking for you, not all of us,” said Vampirella reasonably.

“And if you’re with us he won’t even see you,” said Sandy.

“Particularly in that outfit,” said Biter in agreement. Nikki narrowed her eyes, considering the proposal; it did make sense.

“All right, but if I say run, you all run. Understood?”

“Understood,” said Vampirella in her position as group spokeswoman.

They left the bathroom and walked toward the front door, the girls giggling nonstop. This was the most fun they’d had
ever
. Nikki held her breath as they passed Cano. His eyes roamed over them, stopping on Vampirella’s legs and Biter’s breasts, and then continued on past them.

The girls waited with her until the doorman presented her with an open cab door, his eyes glued to a spot inches above her head, determinedly not looking at her legs. The cabbie had no such compunction and actually swiveled in his seat to watch her get in the cab. Nikki pulled the long folds of her trench coat over her legs.

“
Au revoir
, girls,” she said, turning back to her Gothic woodland sprites.

“See you at the concert,” they crowed, waving farewell.

“Charles de Gaulle,” she told the cabbie. “And try watching the road.”

Nikki stalked through the broad halls of Charles de Gaulle international airport, the heels of her boots making a hard smacking sound on the tile. The sound seemed the perfect expression of her mood.

Nikki saw the Air France sign and walked down the rows of placards until she got to number four. Ellen was sitting quietly against the window wall across from number four with her bag and a long, square, bulky case at her feet. Dressed in a gray skirt and green peacoat, Ellen seemed the epitome of middle-aged affability. As Nikki approached, Ellen picked up her bags and fell into step just behind her. Ellen gave her outfit a once-over and then kept noticeably, tactfully quiet.

They passed a brasserie selling overpriced water and pastries. Without acknowledging them, Jenny rose from one of the small tables, swallowing the last of a croissant and dusting off her hands with a napkin. She slung her bag over her shoulder and ambled into formation next to Ellen. As usual Jenny carried her father’s
old military duffel bag and dressed with her mother’s sense of style. Her thigh-length black jacket and slacks were perfectly complemented by her black beret and shining blond hair.

“Nice outfit,” Jenny commented with deadpan sarcasm. Nikki flipped her the bird.

“We expecting anyone else?” asked Ellen.

“Jane,” answered Nikki tersely. Ellen and Jenny exchanged twin expressions of surprise.

Nikki walked briskly toward the train depot; neither Jenny nor Ellen commented on the pace. Nikki pushed out into the cold air and refused to shiver as the biting wind took aim at her exposed legs. Jane stood below a sign, head swiveling back and forth, apparently trying to read the train schedules. She was dressed in an enormous, full-length, quilted down coat of pale yellow and a bright orange knit cap. Nikki heard Jenny stifle a laugh. Jane did look something like a baby chick—all puffed up and confused. They walked toward Jane and were less than four feet away when Jane finally spotted them. Nikki jerked her head, and a startled Jane scrambled to grab her bags.

“Nice outfit, Nikki,” Jane said.

“Speak for yourself,” retorted Nikki. “Don’t you think that coat’s a little bright for a Goth?”

“No one told me it’d be so freaking cold!” exclaimed Jane. “It was all they had at the shop! Besides, not all of us can pull off boots like that.”

Nikki glanced suspiciously at Jane, but she was breathlessly draping herself in her carry-on, laptop, backpack, and camera. Her comment had apparently been serious.

“Did you fly into a different airport, Jane?” asked Ellen, puzzled.

“No, I took the train,” mumbled Jane, sorting through her bags.

“Took the train from where?” asked Jenny, suddenly noticing the discrepancy.

“Germany,” muttered Jane, burrowing farther into her bag.

“Since when does Jane go on assignment?” asked Jenny, and Jane blushed.

“She doesn’t,” replied Nikki, leading the way to the cab stand. “She’s on vacation.”

“Vacation!” exclaimed Ellen suspiciously. “What kind of vacation?”

“The kind where I …” mumble, mumble, “Voges.”

Nikki waved for a cab again. None of this really mattered to her and she knew that it didn’t really matter to Jenny and Ellen either. Jenny was going to think it was cool; Ellen would be shocked. They would bicker about it for five minutes and then it would occur to them to ask why they were here and what the plan was.

“You’re going to have to speak up,” said Ellen. “I’m getting older and it sounded like you said you went to take down Voges, the gun supplier.”

“Er, well …,” said Jane.

“Jane! That was very dangerous!”

“Way to branch out!” said Jenny cheerfully.

A cab pulled to a halt in front of them and the driver popped the trunk.

“You could have been killed!” said Ellen.

“But I had to,” said Jane. “I owed Nikki for my screw-up in Colombia, and it turned out to be very important!”

“Er, speaking of Colombia,” said Ellen, looking sheepishly at Jane. “We kind of had to spill the beans to Mrs. M.”

“Ellen!” exclaimed Nikki. Jane blanched.

“We didn’t tell everything. We just said that we accidentally walked in on Nikki while she was on the phone and we thought
that Z’ev might have overheard us talking about Nina Alvarez. We made it a group thing,” explained Jenny. Nikki pinched her lips together, dissatisfied. “It’s OK, though,” said Jenny. “Mrs. M had already guessed as much because of—” Nikki turned just in time to see Ellen giving Jenny “abort” signals.

“Because of what?” asked Jane, oblivious.

“Because Z’ev was already in Colombia,” said Nikki.

“No!” exclaimed Jane, horrified.

“We saw him making out on the beach with Nina Alvarez,” said Ellen.

“Oh my God,” said Jane. “That bastard!”

“From the chatter we picked up it sounded like they were trying to lure Alvarez into making a personal attack on Z’ev. You know how he never leaves the compound without ten guys … We figure they were trying to make him angry enough to do something foolish so they could pick him off,” explained Jenny.

“And what if his foolish move was to kill Nina?” demanded Nikki, outraged. “What was he thinking? How could Z’ev put her at risk like that?”

“We kept someone on her the whole time,” said Jenny reassuringly. “We didn’t pull out until they were moving her into protective custody. But he did seem to have things covered.”

“I don’t believe him!” said Jane, always willing to voice her emotions. “I can’t believe he canceled your vacation to go make out with Nina Alvarez! And didn’t you tell him it was a secret? And if that was why he went, why not tell you?”

“Yeah, well, all that aside, once Mrs. M saw him, she was pretty sure we’d blown it somewhere,” said Ellen.

“Was she really mad?” asked Jane, looking depressed.

“She said we needed a refresher in professionalism. To tell the truth …” Ellen hesitated.

“To tell the truth, what?” asked Nikki.

“She seemed glad you and Z’ev had broken up,” said Ellen.

Nikki took a deep breath and let it out. What was there to say to something like that?

“OK,” said Nikki, then she turned to Jane. She could feel Jenny and Ellen exchanging meaningful looks but ignored them. “Well, I’m glad she let you come in spite of that. What did you find out from Voges?”

“Ooh!” Jane bounced up and down in excitement. “You’ll never guess what Voges sold Cano!”

“Oh, right!” said Jenny, slapping her forehead as she dropped her duffel in the cab. “That was the real reason we flew out here. You sent us that contract. Took us forever to decipher it. Had to run it past Mrs. Merrivel to have her fill us in on your case. The long and short of it is that if Kit Masters dies control of his music goes to his management company, which is run by—”

“I was talking here,” said Jane.

“But ours is important,” said Jenny reasonably.

“So’s mine! I got shot at and I had to eat hotel sausages!”

“What do sausages have to do with it?” asked Ellen, lifting her bag into the trunk.

“Brandt,” said Nikki, opening the car door. “It’s Brandt Dettling.”

The girls followed her into the car, Ellen taking the front seat and Jenny and Jane squeezing onto either side of Nikki.

“How’d you know?” asked Ellen, clicking her seat belt on. “Mrs. Merrivel said we had to fly out and tell you immediately.”

“A phone call wouldn’t have done?” asked Nikki, confused.

“
À où?”
asked the cabbie.

“I told you that was weird,” said Jenny. “Why should we fly all the way to France to deliver a message? It was a Merrivel thing. I told you.”

“
L’opéra,”
said Nikki, and he nodded.

“Yes, you’re very smart,” said Ellen, rolling her eyes. “Nikki, just what kind of trouble are you in? Mrs. Merrivel was being very mysterious.”

“I have been officially ordered to suspend activities regarding Cano,” said Nikki.

“Ah shit,” said Jenny.

“You can’t stop!” exclaimed Jane. “Because what Voges sold Cano—”

“Well, considering that Cano and Brandt just tried to kill me and Cano is on his way to kill Kit, I can tell you that I sure as hell am not going to suspend all activities.”

“Good!” said Jane. “Because it was a bomb.”

That stopped the conversation.

“Voges set Cano up with some mercenaries, some guns, and a bomb,” Jane said, reiterating.

“Ah, crap,” said Ellen. “How big of a bomb?”

“Pretty big,” replied Jane, looking worried.

“It’s got to be the awards show,” said Nikki. “He’s going to blow the whole thing. He said there would be a movement and that must be what he’s trying to do—make his first statement.”

“I’m confused,” said Jenny. “I thought this Cano guy just wanted to kill Camille and her family. And I’m still not sure why he wanted to do that …”

“Well, back in the day, Camille married Declan, Kit’s father, and got him to quit the IRA, and at the same time the IRA stopped associating with Cano. Cano blamed Camille for the separation and when Declan arranged a sort of peace summit, Cano tried to kill both of them. Camille thought Duncan, Declan’s brother, had betrayed them to Cano and blamed him for Declan’s death, so she told him to stay away from Kit. But he really wasn’t to
blame, so he came back and has been secretly working as Kit’s bodyguard for the last five years. Meanwhile, Cano thinks all of them betrayed the revolutionary cause, so he wants to kill Kit to get revenge on Camille and make a terrorist statement. And then he wants to kill Duncan and Camille, you know, just to kill them.”