Chapter 47

"Who has a party in an art gallery?" Eva wondered, holding Wolfgang's arm as they climbed the marble staircase. Above them was the famous statue of Frederick William IV on his horse.

"Prada," Wolfgang answered the rhetorical question with a smile.

It was nearly 11pm and the fashion show had been held on Museum Island, in the wide plaza near the Bode Museum. After it had finished, it was only a short walk for all concerned to enjoy the festive celebration hosted by the fashion house at the Old National Gallery. Security was very tight, as this was one of the largest celebrity events Berlin would host all year, but there were many ways around that for anyone possessing the proper skills.

"Good evening," a congenial man greeted the couple at the large entrance to the gallery. "May I see your invitations please?"

"Of course," Wolfgang agreed and reached inside his tuxedo.

This was the third checkpoint they'd had to pass and nearby were a number of alert and professional looking security personnel. Some of them would be private and contracted by Prada for the event, but others would be provided by Berlin police and perhaps even GSG-9, depending on the threat of terrorist attack, which was something nobody took lightly in this day and age.

Eva smiled at a pale and decidedly elegant David Bowie as he walked past with Iman, equally elegant and much darker, of course. He smiled back, meeting Eva's eyes for a split second, and nobody stopped them. Apparently they didn't need invitations. The one Eva and Wolfgang had stolen contained a thin electronic chip embedded beneath the silk paper and goldleaf lettering. That might have posed a small problem if the rightful owners reported the invitation missing, but it was unlikely they'd wake up before noon the following day.

"Thank you, Herr Steuben," the man said pleasantly. He returned the invitation and offered Eva a small bow. "Frau Steuben. Please, enjoy your evening."

Inside the gallery, which was an august and venerable shrine to history's great works of art, Green Day had just launched themselves headlong into American Idiot. Wearing t-shirts, ripped jeans, and tearing through the song loud and fast, they were having a good time and Eva grinned at her brother.

"We're in the right place!" she laughed and Wolfgang rolled his eyes.

Eva enjoyed that sort of music and she loved to tease Wolfgang, whose tastes ran more towards old, classic rock and roll. He was especially fond of the Beatles, which his sister found completely amusing.

"Don't ask me to dance," he said. "Let's get a drink."

The place was crowded and there were the expected number of legitimate celebrities, but for the most part neither Eva nor Wolfgang recognized anyone. Most of the guests seemed to be there because they were either very attractive, very rich, or very fashion conscious, although in Wolfgang's opinion a lot of the so-called fashions would have turned a circus clown green with envy. He was very glad Eva had talked him into going formal. The tuxedo wasn't exactly comfortable, but at least he looked like a man.

"A big drink," Wolfgang corrected himself as a little round man walked by dressed in what had to be a pink bunny suit, without the ears and tail, unfortunately. He was accompanied by two statuesque blondes in identical sapphire gowns who had to be twins. Expensive twins no doubt and Wolfgang drew a deep breath.

"Heh!" Eva stuck the tip of her tongue out at him. "Still think I spent too much for my dress?"

"I never said that," Wolfgang replied, putting his arm around Eva's thin waist.

"I saw the look in your eyes," she pouted, but not for long. Thirty-five hundred euros was too much, probably.

"And what do you see in them now?" Wolfgang asked her softly, taking the excuse to look his sister up and down.

"Hmmm ... I don't know," Eva said with a soft smile. "But I think I like it."

She wore a red evening gown which reminded Wolfgang of a Greek toga as much as anything else. The dress was draped over her left shoulder and pinned at her right hip so that the right half of her body was largely uncovered. If Eva's breasts hadn't been so exiguous as they were, her right breast would have been thinly covered at best. As it was she was still showing quite a lot of skin, but at least her dark nipple was hidden ... Unless she happened to bend over or twist her body more than slightly. Likewise the dress covered her right leg completely, but the left was completely exposed below Eva's hip and the smallest movement threatened to announce her complete lack of modesty. Panties, Eva had decided, would simply spoil such a dress completely.

Eva's platinum hair was deliberately flat and parted down the middle, falling long and straight like silver silk to frame her face. Her makeup was somewhat reserved by Eva's usual standards, with lipstick to match her dress and just enough eye shadow to make her already intensely blue eyes "pop" as she put it. It was a good look and startling for Wolfgang as it was the first time he'd ever seen Eva in the light of vogue sophistication. She was impressive, not in the way so many other, more beautiful women were, but with her undeniable strength and grace. Eva was a predator and dressed in red, the dangerous color of blood and passion, and Wolfgang thought she was the sexiest woman in the room.

Enjoying a second glass of champagne, Eva made up her mind.

"I'm going to ask her," she told Wolfgang. "You'll watch us?"

"Of course," he nodded his head, watching as Eva moved towards the impromptu dance floor that occupied the center of the gallery.

He wasn't exactly certain how anyone could dance to Greenday, who seemed to be making up the rhythm as they went along, but he was admittedly no fan either. A lot of people were dancing, mostly the younger guests, and in the midst of that throng was Cindy. Eva and Wolfgang had been following her through the party for the better part of an hour, working up their courage and trying to think of a good approach. It was very new for them, this unexpected infatuation with a woman they didn't know. Neither of them understood the source of their interest. A glimpse of Cindy on the television at 3am, while they were drunk on vodka and sex? It was madness and the episode should have been forgotten the next day, but it wasn't.

And now they were here, within reach of her. Eva could feel her heart gaining speed, rising with the rush of adrenaline as she approached the girl. It was very much like stalking a victim, she thought. Finding her intended prey, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Eva had killed a dozen men and women, many of them while was touching them, kissing and sharing whispered secrets in the dark. She'd shared the moment of truth and felt this same excitement, the small fear in the pit of her stomach. The anticipation and finally the release, the almost sexual pleasure of letting the tension go. It was that moment she loved, not the waiting, not the actual killing, but the afterwards.

Cindy was wearing a pleated skirt in black and white t-shirt that said "Gomi" across her perfect and unrestrained breasts. Her nipples were obvious and the bouncing of her tits had pulled the girl's t-shirt up to expose her waspish waist and flat tummy. Her wild black hair, which was something of a trademark for the relatively new model, was well past her shoulders. She wore black fishnet stockings, ripped on the left thigh, and short leather boots with stiletto heels. The woman was laughing and having a good time, that was clear, and her partner for the moment was a handsome young man with dark skin and doe eyes. He wore a purple tuxedo with a lemon shirt, and a ridiculous paisley cummerbund.

"I can cut in, ja?" Eva asked in English, grinning at Cindy as she stepped between the model and her fashionable partner.

"Yeah!" Cindy grinned back and beyond that it really was pointless to try and talk. Whatever they might have said would have to be expressed through their eyes and shared smiles, and the graceful, controlled violence of their dancing.

Wolfgang watched them appear and disappear in the swirling crowd with his own growing excitement. His sister was there, dancing with the other woman and he was anxious for Eva's reaction. Nervous about what her opinion of Cindy would be. All of this could very well be for nothing, he knew, if the connection they intuitively felt with the woman turned out to be nothing more than a dream. Eva would know, Wolfgang was certain of that. She'd see it in that American woman's eyes if there was something there worth believing in. That thought might have struck him as odd, if it were ever expressed aloud, but that was the truth of it.