Agent Rogue

Chapter 21

Derek held onto me as he looked over his shoulder to scan the hall. I shifted the angle of my head to spy over his tall frame, seeing only a few shadows flit passed the glass windows.

            He looked back at me, glancing up and down at my figure with an aggravated look as someone screamed from inside.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Someone dropped their caviar. We're free to continue—"
"Derek," I sighed.
He groaned then kissed my lips. "Fine, we'll go."

            He swung open the door, pausing for a moment to shoot me a jocular grin.
"We can make up for lost time later."

            My mouth hung open as he drifted inside, chuckling to himself. Evil, evil man.

            I entered the room to find a silence cast over the party guests. Derek's mouth was shut, his body completely safe as a commotion occurred in the centre of the room.

            Three figures had infiltrated the party, each clutching a heavy firearm. Two were burly men, the other the sandy-haired woman.

            Her peach-pink dress was a stark contrast to the weapon she clutched. Earlier in the evening, she appeared so innocent; a young woman dressed to impress for a night out while on her holiday of a lifetime. But she was here on business. The dark mark on her forearm told us that.
"You didn't notice the tattoo on her arm," I whispered to Derek.
"I wasn't looking at her forearm."
"Oh. And where were you looking, Derek?"
A pause. "... I was looking at you."

            I hid my blush behind an eye roll.

            One of the men had a woman in hand – the middle-aged one that critiqued me viciously at the buffet table – and pressed the barrel of his gun into her skull. She sobbed into the tiles as she was pushed further and further into the floor.

            The sandy-haired woman stepped ahead of the men that flanked her.
"I want your attention and I want it now!" The room stirred. "I know for a fact that Derek Barnes and Amber Knight are somewhere in this room." We shared a swift glance. "We have a hostage in hand, and demand you both turn yourselves in. Otherwise, we pull the trigger."

            The woman's whimpers echoed through the walls as her guard hit her on the back of her head.

            If I was alone, I would have turned myself in the second I spotted the hostage, even if she was cruel to me. However, with Derek standing beside me, sharing the same unsure expression, I was faced with doubt. There was a chance that Alistair was prepared to let me live – Mika proved to hold a different approach when he paid me a visit at home – but after being questioned, Derek's fate was sealed. I was not prepared to sign his death warrant.

            But the woman was innocent. She was a bitch, of course, but did not deserve to die for it.

            I slipped my hand to the table behind me and wrapped my fingers around a cheese knife.
"We're here," I called. Derek shot me a sideways glance, clearly hopeful I had a few shreds of a plan.

            The woman raised her chin to meet my stare from within the crowd and the guests parted, creating a path for Derek and I to march through.

            The older lady whimpered, her once-secure, twisted hairstyle now ripped from its pins, grey ringlets noosing around her neck.
"Let her go," I ordered.
The woman's pouted lips smiled. "When you get here," she said. "Don't try anything stupid."
"She'd rather we try something clever?" Derek quipped. "Is that not worse for her?"
"Shush." I felt him grin at my frustration but showed no sign of responding.