âParker, if he so much as gives you a bad feeling I want you to get the hell out of there as fast as you can.â
âWhat?â Parker looked back over her shoulder at the man currently adorned with three blondes, five brunettes, and a redhead. âWhy?â
âSomethingâs not right,â Eliot said, which wasnât an explanation at all.
âThink you can maybe give us a little more to go on than that?â Nate asked, the kind of sardonic authority that was easy to pull off when he wasnât even in the building.
âNo,â Eliot snapped. âI donât know what the hell it is, I just know itâs bad news.â MI6 in the way he held his champagne and CIA in the way he stood and a soldier in his shoulders and Interpol in the way he looked around the room â no, CIA again â no, FBI â League of Assassins? Obviously not that, couldnât have been that, so what exactly was it that had him wanting to grab Parker and get the hell out? If he could get closer he might be able to tell, the mezzanine might as well have been a different building entirely for all the good it did him. All forest, no trees.
âNot distinctive enough?â Hardison asked, but it wasnât a real question.
âToo distinctive,â Eliot answered, even though he knew Hardison didnât actually care. âIâve just never seen it before.â
âIf youâll pardon the intrusion, sir,â said a voice not in Eliotâs ear, and he did not make it obvious how he stiffened at the address. Eliot turned, let harmless confusion and interest soften his face.
The butler, the one heâd seen before. Pennyworth. That familiar combination of MI6 and Interpol, muddied with domestic service but present all the same.
âMay I have your name?â the butler asked, his hair was white but his eyes were sharp.
âIsaac Easton,â Eliot lied automatically. âIs something wrong?â
Mr. Pennyworth exuded serene amusement. âSo sorry,â he said, âbut Iâm afraid youâre not Mr. Easton.â
âDonât try to deny it,â Sophie said in Eliotâs ear before he could respond. âHe couldnât make it so he told you to come.â
âYou caught me,â Eliot said, sheepish. âTurned out he had some kind of a family thing, said I could use his invite. Didnât think anyoneâd notice if I used his name. Heâll be flattered you remember him.â
It was unclear if Pennyworth bought this story, as placid as before. âI donât, actually,â he said. âBut Iâve always made it a point to examine the guest lists personally. If there were meant to be a former green beret in attendance, I would know about it.â
Eliot was, for the most fleeting of moments, stunned.
The butler smiled. It was not kind. âThe way you watch the crowd,â he explained. âItâs very distinctive.â
Eliot froze. He frowned. His brow furrowed.
If Hardison laughed any harder, he was going to hurt himself.