Spy Snow Leopard (Protection, Inc. Book 6)

by Zoe Chant

  He straightened up and said softly, “Let’s give them a count of ten, then follow.”

  Fiona’s face was red again. In a low, thick voice, she said, “It’s too bad you can’t feel pain right now, because I would love to slap you and make you snap out of it.”

  “That’s not how it works.”

  “I know that,” Fiona whispered angrily. “I just—never mind. Let’s go after them.”

  They slipped out of the alley and followed Bianchi and his courtier-guards at a distance through the streets of Venice, waiting for a chance to ambush them. If they didn’t get one, they had a plan ready to lure them into an empty building, or even for Fiona to talk Bianchi into their apartment. But forty minutes later, they got their chance. Bianchi looked at a crowded bridge over a canal, then beckoned his men to cut through an empty alley instead.

  Justin waited till they were halfway down, then nodded at Fiona. Holding hands and laughing, they ran into the alley, then broke apart and struck. Justin punched the two guards on the left, knocking them out, then slammed an elbow into Bianchi’s solar plexus as he opened his mouth to scream. Bianchi sank to the ground, gasping like a fish. Justin glanced to the side. The other two guards also lay unconscious on the ground with Fiona standing over them.

  They had no time to lose. They hauled the guards into doorways and set them up in sitting positions, so it looked like they were drunk or snoozing.

  Justin bent over Bianchi and pulled his own mask off. “Remember me?”

  From the way the gasping man’s eyes bulged, he did. Justin replaced the mask.

  “Remember my power?” Justin grabbed him by the throat, getting his imprint. “Now I can track you anywhere in the world.”

  Over Bianchi’s shoulder, Justin watched Fiona delicately pat him down. Bianchi, distracted by Justin’s threats, didn’t seem to notice she was doing it. Nor did he so much as blink when Fiona extracted his cell phone, then slipped it down the front of her blouse.

  “Now stand up.” Justin hauled him to his feet. “You’re coming with me. Make any indication that anything’s wrong, and I’ll break your neck.”

  Bianchi nodded frantically. Justin strolled out of the alley with him, with Fiona following. They walked around until Justin spotted another empty alley where they could talk without the possibility of someone noticing the knocked-out guards. Justin led him into it. Fiona walked silently behind them. With any luck, Bianchi had no idea she was there; with lots of luck, he’d never seen her at all.

  Justin leaned casually against the alley and indicated to Bianchi to do the same, like they were friends having a chat. Fiona stood behind him, quietly working on his cell phone.

  “Where’s the Apex base?” Justin demanded.

  “Um... There is no Apex base. You blew it up.”

  Justin again pushed up his mask and let Bianchi get a good look into his eyes. The arms dealer flinched back.

  “Where’s the Apex base?” Justin repeated.

  “If I tell you, then you’ll have gotten what you wanted, and then you’ll kill me!” Bianchi babbled.

  “I didn’t kill Dr. Attanasio,” Justin said. Over Bianchi’s shoulder, he saw Fiona hold up the cell phone, then nod at him. Justin suddenly grabbed Bianchi by the shoulders. He jumped and squealed. As he did so, Fiona smoothly replaced the cell phone, then turned and walked silently out of the alley.

  “That’s because he told me what I needed to know,” Justin went on. “So it’s up to you. Tell me where it is and live, or don’t tell me and die. What’ll it be?”

  Bianchi whimpered and sniffled, then said, “It’s in the Bitterroot Mountains, in Montana. There’s a dirt road off Lost Trail Pass. The sign says ‘Fire Hazard’ and there’s some graffiti scribbles on the bottom right corner. Follow it twelve miles. The entrance is concealed by some boulders on the right-hand side.”

  “That better be true,” Justin said. “Because if it isn’t, I’m coming back for you.”

  “It’s true, it’s true, I swear!”

  “And don’t tip them off that I’m coming.”

  “I won’t!’

  “Fine. Now go back home. I don’t want to see your face again.” Justin gave him a shove in the direction away from Fiona. Bianchi didn’t need more encouragement. He bolted.

  A minute later, Fiona joined him. “Did he spill it?”

  Justin shrugged. “He gave me some directions. Might be real, might be a trap. You got his cell phone, right?”

  “Hacked and bugged,” she replied. “Let’s see if he says anything interesting.”

  They put in their earbuds, concealed them with the ribbons of their masks, and stood waiting with their arms around each other. If anyone walked by, they should look like lovers enjoying a private moment away from the crowds.

  It was barely ten minutes before Bianchi’s frantic voice came over the earbuds. “I just got attacked by Subject Seven! He took out my guards and threatened me! Demanded that I tell him where our base is!”

  A cold woman’s voice answered. Justin recognized it as Dr. Mortenson. “Did you tell him?”

  “No!” Bianchi’s voice came out in a squeal high enough to make Fiona wince. “I gave him the directions for the Bitterroot Mountains, just like you said. But you have to make sure you get him when he shows up. Otherwise he’s going to kill me! He put his hand on my throat! He has my imprint!”

  “We’ll get him,” Dr. Mortenson said. “I’ll be there myself, to make sure it’s done right. Since he’s immune to tranquilizers, we’ll do it old-school.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She gave a humorless chuckle. “You said the entrance was by the boulders, right? We’ll set up a bunch of modified bear traps all around them. Padded, so we don’t break his ankle. Then a few guards go in with bomb squad-level armor, confiscate his weapons, cuff and manacle him, and we’re done.”

  “All right. Just keep me posted.” Bianchi hung up.

  Justin removed his earbuds. Fiona did the same.

  “We’re done,” she said. “The invincibility. Take it off now.”

  Justin considered it, then shook his head. “Not yet.”

  Her lips pressed together in a white line. “Why not? Danger’s over.”

  “If we go straight to the airport, we can be in Montana to ambush Dr. Mortenson in another day or so. I’ll need it then. I can take it off afterward.”

  She looked at him for a long time without replying. Then she said, “Let me ask you something. Don’t answer me immediately. I want you to think about it first. Dr. Mortenson’s the one who waterboarded you. How do you feel about getting revenge on her?”

  He thought about it, then said, “She’s a sadist. She did that to me because she got a kick out of it. Saying it was an experiment was just an excuse. She’ll hurt more people if I don’t take her down.”

  “I said how did you feel, not...” Fiona folded her arms across her chest. “I want you to remember what it felt like when she did it. Do it, Justin.”

  He didn’t see any reason not to. He remembered Dr. Mortenson pouring water over his face until it filled his lungs. He’d been sure he was dying when he’d finally passed out, but he’d woken up still strapped to that cold table. His first thought had been to regret that he hadn’t died, because being alive meant she’d do it again. But it was just a memory. He could recall that he’d felt pain and suffocation, panic and shame at being panicked, but none of it meant anything to him now.

  “I remember it. It doesn’t bother me. I know it would if I wasn’t invincible. But I am, so...” He shrugged.

  Fiona took off her mask. Her eyes were glistening. Wet. A tear slid down her cheek.

  Something stirred in his chest. Not pain, he couldn’t feel that, but the sense that the pain was there whether it hurt or not. That was how it felt when you were given morphine. The pain didn’t actually go away. It just stopped bothering you.

  “What’s the matter?” Justin asked.

  “I don’t know how to reac
h you. I suppose I could wait a week until you hit your limit and have to take it off or die, but...” Her fists clenched at her sides, then opened. She clasped both his hands in hers. “Do you love me?”

  “Yes,” he said automatically. He knew he did. He just couldn’t feel it. Like that phantom pain, he could tell that his love existed, but was beyond his ability to perceive.

  “Then take it off now. Do it as a favor to me. I know you don’t want to. But do it anyway. Do it because you love me, and I’m asking you.”

  That sense of feelings just outside of his grasp increased. He caught himself trying to lift his hand to press it against the scar over his chest. As if it hurt, even though it couldn’t hurt. Or maybe it was his heart that almost hurt. His reason for wanting to stay invincible was part and parcel of that knot of not-quite feeling. Like the reason he was with Fiona at all. And he’d never understand it unless he did what she was asking.

  “All right,” he said. And, knowing it was true even though he couldn’t feel it, “Because I love you.”

  Justin closed his eyes and opened his heart.

  Chapter Ten

  Justin

  Even before he opened his eyes, the memory of the last few hours came flooding back, only now with emotions attached.

  How he’d pressed his lips against Fiona’s in a cold mockery of a kiss, without a trace of love or passion or desire. No wonder she’d been furious.

  How once he was invincible, he didn’t see any reason not to stay that way. He’d known it could kill him, and he simply hadn’t cared.

  In a rush of horror and shame, he remembered how he’d made Fiona cry. He loved her. How could he have done something so cruel to someone he loved?

  Love!

  He’d been unable to love Fiona. He’d literally forgotten what love felt like.

  Justin felt the blood drain from his face. “Oh, God.”

  Strong fingers dug into his upper arms. “Justin!”

  He opened his eyes. Fiona was holding him, her face still streaked with tears. He could see her beauty now, but more importantly, he could see her. She’d been desperately trying to save him from himself. And he’d fought her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it,” she hissed, her voice choked and angry. “Promise me you’ll never do it again.”

  He hesitated. Part of him was protesting, But I need it! Another part was shouting, It hurts Fiona! His snow leopard was snarling furiously, Look what it makes you do! Look what it does to your mate!

  His first inclination was to tell his snow leopard to shut up. But that had been how this entire mess had started. Just because his leopard had been forced on him didn’t mean he had to try to push him down and ignore him. His snow leopard was the voice of his own deepest instincts and emotions. Maybe he was worth listening to.

  Justin waited patiently as his snow leopard ran through his usual, frantic snarls and shrieks of Don’t do it! It’s bad for you! It’ll kill us both! But he calmed down as he realized that for once, Justin was listening.

  You have to tell your mate why you think you need it, his snow leopard hissed. You have to tell her what happened at Apex.

  Justin flinched. He wanted to say, I can’t.

  But when he looked at Fiona and felt his love for her, like a fire burning in his heart, he knew that he could. It was his choice, just like turning over a new leaf had been her choice. Just like telling him her story, which had obviously terrified her.

  “I can’t make that promise until I know you understand what it means,” he said. “But it’s a long story, and people could walk in on us at any second. Let’s go back. I’ll tell you as soon as we’re alone.”

  He’d expected her to be angry that he wouldn’t immediately agree. But instead, she took his hand. “I appreciate it. I know this is hard. I’m still scared to tell my teammates my story. But I’m going to anyway. I feel a lot better since I told you. And since you didn’t blame me, it makes me think maybe they won’t either.”

  “Shane won’t,” Justin said. “I know him, and there’s no way. From what you told me about Hal, I can’t imagine that he would either. And Nick, I just met briefly and not really under great circumstances, but he said a couple things that made me think he’d committed some crimes himself.”

  “Nick’s an ex-gangster. I gave him hell for it when he first joined. Looking back now, I didn’t want him around because he reminded me of what I used to be. But it was unfair of me. I owe him an apology.”

  “It’s never too late.”

  “It really isn’t.” She squeezed his hand, then said, “Now that you can appreciate it, let’s try again. What do you think of my costume?”

  Fiona lifted his hand over her head and twirled beneath it like a ballet dancer. Her skirt flared out, showing off her slim but muscled thighs. Now he could admire her costume, and the woman in it. Her dress was white satin embroidered with clear crystals, like a field of snow flecked with ice. The tight top offered a tempting view of her luscious cleavage. White ballet slippers covered her dainty feet.

  She wore an elaborate tiara of silver, white feathers, and sparkling clear jewels. Her half-mask was made of white lace decorated with the same clear crystals that were on her dress. A sapphire crystal shaped like a teardrop was placed beneath her eye, and a series of smaller sapphire teardrops made a trail down the mask. The blue crystal trail continued across the shoulder of her dress and made an asymmetrical pattern across the bodice and skirt, until it encircled the bottom of the skirt in a rippled pattern, like the sea.

  Mr. Toscani had seen into Fiona’s heart, just as he’d seen into Justin’s: he’d dressed her as a snow queen whose tears were melting the ice.

  “It’s beautiful,” Justin said. “You’re beautiful. I’m sorry as hell I couldn’t see it before.”

  “You can now. That’s the important thing.”

  He took a second look. Her shoulders and arms were bare, and so were her legs. “Aren’t you freezing?”

  She shrugged, then gave him a wry smile. “You have to suffer for beauty.”

  Justin put his arm around her and held her close, sharing his warmth. “No, you don’t.”

  They walked out of the alley. It was mid-morning now, and Carnival was in full swing. The narrow streets were full of people in elaborate costumes and masks. Living gargoyles peered from windows, kings and queens were rowed along the canals by gondoliers, and masked lovers in elaborate costumes waltzed in the squares.

  It was beautiful. More than beautiful—it was magical. Justin felt as if he’d stepped out of reality, and into the sort of dream he used to have, the kind he was sorry to wake up from. He couldn’t believe that he’d seen all this earlier and barely even registered it, let alone appreciated it.

  He’d expected to be filled with dread for the entire walk back to the apartment, now that he’d agreed to tell her his story. But instead, he felt strangely light. He could feel again. He could perceive beauty and experience love and enjoy the warm grip of Fiona’s hand in his. Unexpectedly, joy had entered his heart, filling it to the brim if it was making up for lost time.

  A huge crowd had gathered in St. Mark’s Square. To the accompaniment of wild cheers, a young woman dressed as an angel leaped from a high tower and floated down on an invisible wire, scattering confetti over the crowd.

  Justin flicked one of Fiona’s braids. “You have confetti in your hair.”

  “So do you. It suits you. You should wear it all the time.”

  “Maybe I can hire that angel to follow me around and sprinkle it from a height.”

  Fiona laughed. The clear sound filled his heart, and he bent to kiss her.

  The touch of her lips was a shock as intense as if he’d stuck his finger in an electric socket, but a jolt of pleasure rather than pain. She swayed against him, her body seeming to melt into his. He was instantly hard as a rock, aching with desire. After that long morning of numb emptiness, the rush of love and l
ust made his head swim. If they hadn’t been in public, he’d have ripped her clothes off then and there.

  Her eyes were burning with an emerald fire, and her nails bit into his shoulders. She was breathing as hard as if she’d just finished a marathon. She lowered her head and gave a sudden nip at his throat that sent a bolt of desire straight down his spine.

  “Come on.” His voice came out in a rough growl, like his leopard’s.

  They pushed through the crowd, dodging costumed revelers as they ran through the narrow streets. His boots clacked against the cobblestones; her leather slippers made no sound. He only knew his feet were touching the ground by the noise they made. It felt like he was flying.

  It seemed like both forever and no time at all before they reached their apartment. Justin was shaking from the intensity of his desire; he dropped the key the first time he tried to unlock the door. Fiona snatched it up, but fumbled as she tried to unlock it. Her hands were trembling too. When they finally got the door open, Justin kicked it shut behind them and shoved the bolt in place with the heel of his hand. Then they stumbled up the stairs together and into the bedroom.

  Before they even reached the bed, they were in each other’s arms, kissing passionately. He was vaguely aware that they were both still wearing their half-masks, but his was made of thin leather and hers of lace; they didn’t interfere. Taking them off would require lifting his hands away from the soft skin of her bare shoulders, and he couldn’t bear to do it.

  In a moment, he thought vaguely.

  Fiona had pulled up his shirt and was caressing his chest. Her hands slid over the gunshot scars on his chest and back, but it didn’t bother him. If anything, her touch made him realize that they were only scars now. The wounds had healed. And then he forgot about them entirely, because her hands had dropped down to tug at his belt buckle. He helped her undo it, then pulled it off and tossed it aside.