Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,38

kids under control. The oldest one couldn’t have been more than six, and he kept darting off to examine some new fascination along Atlantic City’s famous boardwalk.

Madigan polished off the bag of nuts he’d been nursing and tossed the trash into a nearby bin as he passed. Just ahead of the family was his target: an unremarkable middle-aged man walking arm in arm with a perfect ten blond. The kind only a fat bank account could possibly lure.

They’d arrived at the Regency yesterday, but as soon as the man had physically checked in, he and his date had gotten back into the town car and Madigan had lost them in traffic. He’d gotten lucky when the man had shown up again this afternoon, made a call from the lobby of the hotel, and then proceeded to walk right back out the entrance to the blond waiting on him.

Madigan intended to follow them until he figured out where they were really staying and then find a nearby place to post and wait for the man to take what his handler had told him was his usual morning run. Madigan wanted to avoid involving the blond if he could, because he really was too young and gorgeous to be sucked into the mess Madi was about to create.

Madigan slowed when the pair stopped to look at some handmade carvings in a shop window and found a lamppost to lean against. He tugged at the bottom of his coat when it fluttered in the cutting wind and looked at his watch. If he could pull this off in the next twenty-four hours, he could meet up with Soren in Boston and grab a bite to eat. Since Rio had been a no-go, that meant he hadn’t seen his mentor in months. It’d be good to catch up with him. Another momentary distraction from—

Madi jerked his attention back to the couple as they moved on from the window, but that wasn’t what had caught his eye. He skimmed the crowd again, eyes narrowed.

Nothing.

Regardless, his pulse beat loudly in his ears as he started walking, taking a deep breath to settle down the rush of endorphins spreading through him. Ahead, a tourist group thinned out in front of a bunch of shops.

On the other side of them was Azrael. His profile, at least, fixed on Madigan’s target and lover as they passed right by him.

Madigan’s breath caught in his chest, anticipation warring with instinctive anger that Az might snatch yet another paycheck right out from under him, especially after the way they’d left things in Rio. But when the couple turned left onto the street running perpendicular to the boardwalk, Az went right without turning back and without seeming to see Madigan.

Or, possibly worse, Azrael was ignoring him.

Madigan let out a snarl, fighting the desire to chase after the other man. Even in the scant handful of seconds Az had been in Madigan’s line of sight, his scent, his touch, the way he felt in Madigan’s hands came rushing back with such violent force it was dizzying.

Madigan made himself turn left after the couple and pulled out his phone.

“I’m going to start making you pay me a retainer,” Cas drawled.

“Fine, name the price. But while you think about it, I need you to search every hotel in Atlantic City for the aliases I’m about to give you.” He started to list them off and frowned when he heard Jonah laughing in the background. “Am I on speaker?”

“Yeah. We might have been a little busy. You should be honored I even answered your call. Jonah says hi.” Jonah’s laughter continued, and Madigan knew exactly why.

“Do me a favor. Whenever there’s a wedding, don’t invite me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, I promise.” Cas crooned, though he was certainly lying. “Give me ten. No, twenty—Jonah’s giving me a look. Twenty minutes, and I’ll get back to you.”

Madigan trailed his target to a mid-rise building off the strip that appeared to be either an extended stay executive hotel or some sort of temporary apartments. He did a brief walk around to check out the layout and surrounding buildings and almost dropped his phone trying to retrieve it from his pocket when it vibrated with a message.

With a grin, he punched the number on-screen.

“You’ve reached the Claridge. My name is Beverly, how can I help you?”

“I need you to leave a message for my husband. He’s in suite 1204. Could you let him know his husband has reservations at Cappricio at