by CW Browning
Alina smiled.
“We’ll go over it when we’re done here. I need to get into the command center, though, and I have no idea how we’re going to do that with the Three Stooges down there.”
“Buddy will need to be walked. I’ll convince Michael and Blake to do a full perimeter check. That should buy us about half an hour, if not longer.”
“And Stephanie?”
“How hard can it be to convince her to take a nap?” Damon turned off the flame and looked up. “You ready?”
“Would it matter if I wasn’t?”
“Nope.”
“Then let’s get it done.”
Something like a laugh lit his blue eyes and Damon stepped close to her, turning her head gently so that he had access to the wound.
“You said you had a fight with Frankie’s bodyguards,” he said, his voice low as he tried to distract her just before the needle pierced the tender flesh on her neck.
Searing pain through her neck and Alina sucked in her breath, then clenched her jaw.
“Yes. One of them pulled a gun on me.”
“You were unarmed?”
“Not for long, once he did that,” she said dryly, sucking in her breath again as another searing flash of pain shot through her. “Turns out some of Frankie’s faithful have defected over to the cartel. He was one of them, along with the two other guards.”
“And he went after you why?”
“The cartel has a bounty on my head. It’s damned insulting, actually.”
Damon’s eyes flicked to her face before going back to her neck.
“Why? How much?”
“Only ten grand. Hell, it’s not even worth putting bullets in the gun for that,” Alina said disgustedly.
“It’s certainly not worth getting killed over,” Damon agreed. “I’m assuming they are dead?”
“Yes. I think Frankie’s enforcer has a crush on me now. He was practically drooling.”
Damon was surprised into a laugh. “He saw?”
“He and Frankie were both in the room when it happened. I’m not sure what they thought was going to happen. Stefan was reaching for his gun and Frankie was furious with them when I took matters into my own hands. The guards never had a chance. What the hell were they thinking?”
“About ten grand, apparently.” Damon paused, then looked at her. “This will hurt, babe. I’m sorry. I’m at the middle and it’s wide.”
Alina met his gaze. “Thanks for the warning.”
He lowered his eyes again and she braced for the pain she knew was coming. She’d stitched herself before without any pain killers, but it was never in a sensitive place like her neck. Most of her injuries ended up being torso hits, with a few notable exceptions.
Conversation stopped as blinding pain resonated through her neck and down her jaw. Clenching her hands around the edge of the counter, Alina concentrated on taking deep and even breaths, willing the pain away. It wasn’t working, but it was keeping her occupied while Damon steadily made his way along the length of the gash. Just when she was convinced she couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled the needle away and set it on the counter.
“You still with me?” he asked, glancing into her face.
“Of course,” she muttered, annoyed when her voice sounded strained.
He grinned and tied off the thread. “Good.”
He reached past her to the toolbox and pulled out a sealed gauze bandage.
“I’m not saying I have a future in the medical profession, but this isn’t half bad.”
“I don’t look like Frankenstein?”
“Maybe just a little,” he admitted, tearing open the package and pulling out the gauze square. “Don’t worry. I didn’t marry you for your looks,” he added with a wink.
Alina shook her head and twisted on the counter to get a glimpse of her neck in the mirror. She grimaced at the line of black stitches, but it wasn’t as bad it could have been.
“That should heal up pretty well,” she decided after examining it for a moment. “Thank you.”
She turned back to face him and Damon laid the bandage over the stitches. Lifting her hand to hold it in place while he reached for the tape, she sighed.
“I’m feeling more and more like the walking wounded,” she muttered. “How’s your side?”
“Muscles are still sore, but I’m almost there,” he said, tearing off pieces of tape and sticking them along the edge of the counter. “The running in the morning is helping to build my strength back up. I feel almost back to normal.”
Alina nodded and was silent for a moment, then she shook her head.
“I’ll tell you this,” she said, her voice controlled, “now I’m pissed. I’ve got the bastards coming from all directions.”
Damon set the roll of tape down and picked up one of the strips, turning to her again. He replaced her hand with his on the bandage and taped one side down.
“What did Frankie have to say about the cartel?” he asked, reaching for another strip.
“He and Reyes are working together to get them out. Frankie’s going after the cartel members, and Reyes is making sure the gangs they infiltrated are solidly back on the Family’s side. Frankie seems to think they can contain it between them.”
“And the ones in his own house?”
“You mean, aside from the three from today?” she shrugged. “He’s taking care of it.”
Damon finished taping the bandage down and turned to wash his hands.
“If Harry promised Salcedo an open market up the coast, then Solitto will have to deal with more than just the low-level players,” he said, lathering his hands with soap. “Harry will have people helping in Washington and in local governments.”
“Frankie’s already identified two of them,” Alina said with a grin. “He’s got people in high places, too. I have to hand it to him, the man is a formidable force. I’m glad he’s on my side.”
Damon grunted. “Men like that switch sides in an instant. You know that.”
A cold smiled crossed her lips.
“I also know that he’s well aware of what I’m capable of.”
Damon turned off the water and dried his hands, looking at her pensively for a long moment.
“I’m more concerned with keeping you alive long enough to get through this,” he finally said in a low voice. Tossing the hand towel onto the counter, he moved to stand in front of her. “This was too close for comfort,” he said, motioning to her neck.
Alina reached out and slipped her hands around his waist, pulling him closer.
“I have no intention of letting you off that easy,” she murmured, her eyes twinkling mischievously as they met his. “I’ve got too much invested in this now. I’m not going anywhere.”
Damon slid his arms around her and leaned his forehead against hers.
“We have no say in when our time comes. You know that.”
“Then there’s no point in worrying about it,” she pointed out. “Let’s just make the most of what time we have.”
He smiled slowly and lowered his mouth to hers, his lips moving overs hers warmly.
“I won’t argue with that,” he murmured against her mouth, pulling her up against him firmly.
Alina’s eyes slid closed and she relaxed against him, confident that she had successfully distracted him. It wouldn’t last, she knew, but at least he wasn’t worrying about her right this second. And neither was she.
The kiss began as a distraction, but quickly turned ravenous as desire exploded between them. Alina shifted against him and they both groaned. No matter what happened, this attraction between them was volatile and undeniable, and Alina was incapable of doing anything but surrender to it. All thoughts of their very uncertain future faded under the onslaught of pure, raw passion coursing through her.
Damon pressed her against him as if he couldn’t get close enough and stars exploded behind her eyelids as she dropped her hands to his hips. She slid them under his shirt and her heart started
pounding as she touched his warm skin. He made a sound deep in his throat and was just reaching for his shirt when a sound made its way through the haze of desire.
Someone was knocking on the bedroom door.
He lifted his head, his breathing ragged, and glanced at the open bathroom door. Alina opened her eyes, trying to catch her breath as he brought his gaze back to her. His eyes were dark with desire and he exhaled loudly, leaning his forehead against hers. They both breathed deeply, then she sighed and gently pushed him away from her.
“Full house,” she muttered, disgruntled. “I told you this would suck.”
Despite his frustration, Damon chuckled and moved away from her. Alina slid off the vanity, landing on shaky legs, and turned to head out of the bathroom.
“Later,” he promised, watching her go.
She glanced over her shoulder and the look on his face sent another wave of heat clear through her.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alina moved out of the bathroom, striding around the corner and to the closed bedroom door. She took a deep, calming breath before opening it.
Stephanie stood before her, holding Anabelle in her arms.
“Are you okay?” she asked, frowning in concern.
Alina stifled a frustrated laugh.
“I could be a lot better,” she said dryly, turning to move back into the bedroom, “but I’m fine.”
“I came up to get my pain killers and saw the door to the den open,” Stephanie said, following her. “I figured I’d make sure everything was good. I see you changed the bandage. Are you sure you’re all right?”
Alina shot her a sheepish look and sank onto the foot of the bed.
“Damon just finished stitching it up,” she admitted. “It was deeper than I thought.”
Stephanie gasped. “He did it? Why didn’t you go to Urgent Care?”
“Why would I go to Urgent Care?”
“What do you mean why?” Stephanie scowled. “Because that’s what you do when you need stitches. They have the right equipment.”
“You mean a needle and thread?” Alina demanded, amused. “I have that.”
“Oh, pardon me. Does it come in your pre-made assassin kit?”
“Yes. We keep it right next to the cyanide pill,” Damon said, coming out of the bathroom.
Stephanie looked at him. “Very funny. How bad was it?”
“I’ve seen worse,” he replied with a shrug. “It just needed some help closing up.”
Stephanie shook her head and dropped onto the bed next to Alina, the orange tabby cat still in her arms.
“Do you see why Michael and I were worried now?” she demanded. “You were gushing blood!”
Alina raised an eyebrow. “Gushing is a bit of an exaggeration.”
“Streaming, then.”
“More like seeping,” Damon said, amused. He glanced at Alina, desire still simmering deep in his eyes, then turned and headed for the door. “I’m going to get something to eat. I’m suddenly starving.”
Alina felt a laugh bubbling inside her at the disgruntled note in his voice but tamped it down.
“How can he eat after sewing up your neck?” Stephanie demanded as he disappeared down the hall.
“He can always eat.”
“Well, I’m glad he left. I want to talk to you.” Stephanie bent down and set Anabelle on the floor. “We haven’t had much of a chance the past two days.”
Alina looked at her apprehensively. “Talk about what?”
“You.”
She turned to face her and Alina inwardly grimaced. She knew that look. This wasn’t going to be pleasant.
“More specifically, what you do for a living and what you’ve become. We’ve been avoiding the topic for almost a year. It’s time to discuss it.”
“To what purpose? It won’t change anything.”
“No, but I want to understand. I thought I could just pretend that that part of you didn’t exist, and we could continue as we have been, but I can’t. Especially not after the other night.”
“I’m not sure what you’re trying to understand. You know what I do. You’ve seen me do it. It’s not a puzzle that you need to solve.”
Stephanie sighed impatiently.
“This isn’t about your work,” she snapped. “It’s about you. Last summer, when I watched you kill Regina, it was like watching a stranger. There wasn’t any part of you that I recognized. You moved and spoke like someone who wasn’t even a human being. Over the months since then, I managed to convince myself that you were angry at the time and so you were being reckless.”
Alina looked at her, her face impassive. Stephanie continued, ignoring the unnerving stare.
“But the other night, I saw it again. You become this terrifying person who doesn’t have any fear or regard for her own safety. You really are reckless, and I need to understand why. Why do you have this death wish?”
Alina raised an eyebrow, amused. “A death wish? Do I?”
“Yes! Last summer, you let Regina beat you to within an inch of your life—”
“Hardly,” she interjected dryly.
“And then the other night, you showed up with a handgun to confront men with automatic rifles in full body armor,” Stephanie continued relentlessly. “It was suicide. You weren’t even wearing a vest!”
“I wasn’t aware there was a dress code for saving my best friend from a hit team.”
“Will you be serious?!” she snapped. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation.”
“I’m still trying to figure out what you feel you need to understand,” Alina replied. “I don’t carry bulletproof vests in my car. I wasn’t expecting to run into a full team on Friday. It’s not like I had time to plan for it. I worked with what I had.”
“You didn’t even take cover behind the van,” Stephanie retorted. “You walked down the middle of the aisle, in full firing range, without blinking. It’s just plain luck mixed with pixie dust that you weren’t shot point blank right there!”
“Mmmm...it was a little more than luck and pixie dust,” Alina said, amused again. “I don’t leave anything to chance.”
“That’s not what it looks like to me.”
Alina studied her thoughtfully for a moment, then got up and walked aimlessly over to the dresser. Perhaps it would help Stephanie to learn a little about how she worked. It couldn’t change anything, but it might help prepare her for what was coming.
“What happens when you fire an automatic weapon through a window from inside a car?” she asked, glancing at Stephanie.
Stephanie looked at her blankly. “What?”
“Humor me. What do you think happens?”
“The glass breaks.”
“And the shooter?”
“I don’t...what are you getting at?”
“Most people won’t fire an automatic through a windshield from inside the vehicle,” Alina said, turning and pacing back. “First, it’s ungodly loud, and second, the barrel is typically too long to aim without hitting the glass, which is no good. The smarter choice is a handgun.”
“Ok, but you didn’t know he didn’t have a handgun!”
“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Alina paused and looked down at her. “When you fire a 9mm handgun from inside the windshield, the bullet deflects up when it passes through the laminated glass. If he had managed to get the first round through, which isn’t guaranteed, the shot would have lost much of its velocity and would be off-target. If, in the more likely scenario, his first shot didn’t make it through, the second would, and he would have presumably corrected his aim. It would also have better velocity because it would have gone through already weakened glass.”
“All the more reason...” Stephanie stopped when Alina held up her hand.
“IF that’s what he had done, I would have had a warning shot to dive out of the way,” she said. “But that’s all assuming that he was thinking fast enough to shoot through the windsh
ield. Human nature is still human nature. When a heavily-armed and protected person sees someone coming towards them unprotected, and in an apparently suicidal move, instinct is to hesitate. At our core, we are all human, and humans have doubt. If you think someone is crazy, you pause to evaluate how best to proceed.”
Stephanie stared at her, nonplussed. “You’re saying you did that on purpose?”
“In that instance, yes.” Alina shrugged. “But just in case you think I’m completely insane, there’s a reason I carry a .45. Not much will slow down a .45 caliber round, even a windshield. If he had shot through the windshield, I can guarantee my shot would have gone through his head before his second round made it out.”
“You couldn’t have known all that in the couple seconds it took for that SUV to stop,” Stephanie protested. “That’s ridiculous!”
“No, that’s how I was trained. I have to make judgment calls and decisions in seconds, not minutes, and usually under less than ideal conditions. If I make the wrong one, I die. Trust me when I say that I’ve gotten rather good at making the right decisions most of the time.”
Stephanie shook her head, staring up at her wordlessly. Alina sighed and sat down next to her again.
“You think I’m crazy,” she said. “You think I’m suicidal. I’m not. I’ve been trained to be highly focused and to anticipate how any given person will react to any situation. I evaluate everything, every likely attack and every possible outcome, and then adjust accordingly. I’ve learned to do it in seconds. That’s why I’m one of the best at what I do.”
“One of?” Stephanie asked, her voice cracking.
Alina smiled faintly. “Damon’s the other. We’re still alive because we can adapt and adjust.”
Stephanie was silent for a long while, her lips pressed together in a thin line.
“And that’s why you think you can go after Colonel Shore?” she finally asked.
“I don’t think I can. I will.”
“If he’s the one who trained you how to adapt, I don’t see that your ninja skills will be much good.”
“Oh, I’ll have more than just my .45, don’t worry.”
“I still think it’s suicide. Let’s discuss other options. There has to be another way.”