by Amy Deason
Right?
The only answer was a resounding silence. There was no way to tell which side the guy was on. She didn’t know anything about him or where he came from. She could hear the Russian accent of course but what did it mean? Absolutely nothing. It might be better if she just got the hell out of here. Out of this house, out of Russia. It seemed like a daunting task but she could do it. She just had to keep her wits about her and pay attention to everything. Everything except for this sick attraction to her rescuer.
A half-formed memory came to her then. Like a light piercing through the fog in her brain, it made her heart start pounding all over again. Nikolas’s face swam into view. Leaning in, he came closer, closer, those dark eyes piercing her soul. And then he’d touched her. Not with his lips again, thank God, but with his thumb. Wiping something away? She couldn’t be sure. The last thing she clearly remembered was drinking a glass of water . . .
“Oh my God!” she gasped. He’d drugged her. The bastard! He was no better than those guys he helped her escape from. What had she been thinking? He wasn’t one of the good guys. He was just . . . just . . .
“Arrg,” she growled, unable to pinpoint exactly what Nikolas was.
Enough was enough. She was getting out of here. Shaking the cobwebbed memories away, she threw the thin blanket off and stood. In the dim room, she scurried quietly, locating a pair of brand-new purple and black tennis shoes by the dresser. Pulling them on, she was aware how perfectly they fit. Just like the jeans and shirt she was wearing. Just like the lacy underwear and bra. It both infuriated and terrified her that Nikolas had gotten her sizes right. She wanted to believe it was pure luck but she was beginning to learn that nothing was pure luck with him. If he knew something as intimate as her bra size, what else did he know about her? She didn’t want to think about it now. Or ever.
Leaning forward, she put her ear to the door, listening intently but she couldn’t hear anything through the heavy wood. He could have left her here by herself or he could be standing right outside the door waiting for her to make a move. There was just no way to tell from inside this room. She would have to open the door.
Taking a deep breath, she reached for the doorknob.
Well, here goes nothing.
Before she could change her mind, she swung it open. He wasn’t standing outside of the door. She released her held breath. Score one point for her.
She poked her head around the doorframe, searching for movement. But the hallway, masked in heavy shadows, made it impossible to see anything. It was possible he was gone, thinking she would be knocked out for a while but maybe he was still out there. Whichever it was, she couldn’t just stand here and do nothing.
Cadence slipped through the doorway, plastering herself against the wall. Step by step, she crept down the carpeted hallway trying to be as quiet as she could. She was so nervous and on edge her heart was slamming against her ribcage. Her raspy breathing was so loud in the silence. If Nikolas was out there, he could surely hear it too. She would never be able to get the jump on him this way.
Pausing in the shadows, she closed her eyes and took a shaky breath.
You’ve got to get control of yourself. You won’t get very far if you don’t.
Taking her own advice, she gradually slowed her breathing and put a lid on her nervousness. She could do this.
She opened her eyes and glanced down into the shadows. The other doors down the hallway were open. The bathroom and another bedroom.
What if he is in one of them? the scared part of her whispered. But what if he’s not? her bolder side countered.
There was only one way to find out now wasn’t there?
She swallowed the lump in her throat and slid along the wall, her clammy palms pressing themselves against the rough plaster. As she reached the first door, she inched her head inside, expecting to see Nikolas stretched out on the bed. It was empty. The blankets didn’t even have a wrinkle in them. Score another point for her.
Feeling a smidge braver, she stepped up to the bathroom door and leaned in. Empty.
Okay, two down, one to go. This is looking better and better.
With her heart dancing a crazy ragtime jig, she stopped just short of the living room opening. One of the pint-sized lamps had been turned on, its pale light reaching valiantly into the depths of the room. But it was no match for the cloaking ability of the heavy curtains, creating just enough light for the shadows to feed from. Her eyes speared into the dark, crawling across the back of the couch and into the kitchen. Empty. She was alone.
Allowing the relief to finally come, she gave up all stealthy movements and raced to the back door, not knowing what she would be facing once she pulled it open. But no matter. She just had to get out of here. And away from Nikolas.
The doorknob was cool against the warmth of her palm as she turned it. It rattled uselessly in her hand.
Locked. That figures.
Well, she would just have to try the front door. And if that didn’t work, there were always the windows.
Spinning on her heel, she started toward the front door only to bounce her knee off the back edge of the couch. The sharp crack of bone against wood didn’t go unnoticed but the biting pain surging through her knee cap surpassed it.
“Shit! Son of a bitch! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The curse words flew from her as she held her leg while hopping around on the other. She was going to have a goose egg there for sure. Probably a big, black bruise too, she thought. Perfect. It could match the one on her face and her wrist. Damn it, why couldn’t anything go right for her?
“Leaving so soon?” a disembodied voice asked, curling out of the darkness.
~ ~ ~
Dmitry sifted through the color photos on his desk. They were extremely high-quality prints. No reason they shouldn’t be. After all, he didn’t pay state of the art prices for run of the mill products. But even so, the pictures were blurry and didn’t reveal much more than a tall, young man dressed from head to toe in black. Dark hair, slim build, fine features. He could have been anyone. A lot of good it did him. The man was a stranger, someone Dmitry had never seen before. But just because he hadn’t seen him didn’t mean someone else hadn’t.
He had eyes all over this city. Someone had to have seen him and by God, he would find out who. And when he did, he would find the girl and get the answers he needed. As for the stranger, he was going to pay dearly for crossing him. By the time his men got done with him, there would be nothing left to identify him with.
Picking up the phone, he punched in two numbers. The first linked him directly to Ivan’s cell. As soon as the call was accepted, he barked orders.
“I want you to gather a search team. Scour the streets. I want to know who saw this asshole and when and where. I want them found.”
“Yes sir. I’m on it now,” Ivan replied.
The second call was to one of his undercover informants, a man that would kill his mother and fuck his father for the right amount of green.
“Have you found them?” The man’s voice was light and upbeat. This was usual no matter what the circumstance. He could be robbing a bank with a knife to the guard’s throat and still his voice would come across as friendly and open.
Sick bastard.
“Not yet but I have a team looking for them now. I want you to be on standby in case you’re needed here.”
“No problem, good buddy. You just keep the cash flowing and I will be wherever you need me to be.” Dmitry placed the phone in his pocket and stood, adjusting the vest of his three-piece suit.
Now that there was a plan of action, he felt better, relieved almost. Almost. This anxiety wouldn’t fade away completely until he had the girl in his possession and she was telling him what he wanted to know. And only when he had the completed formula would he be able to fully relax. Because
by then, he would have the whole world at his feet. Every country, every government would be kneeling before him, begging for mercy. The thought made him smile. Wide and toothy, he suspected it resembled a great white shark’s moments before he devoured his prey.
Dmitry thought it an apt comparison. Would he show those shivering cowards any mercy? And kindness? It just depended on what they have to offer. If it was something he wanted, then he would keep them around. If not, they would be wiped from the face of the earth without another thought.
Oh how he loved this feeling. The rush of having the power and the control. Being able to do what he wanted, when he wanted. And it would only get better once he had the formula. Because one thing he’d learned was whoever had the money, had the power. And power meant control. And control was everything.
Chapter 7
Nikolas heard the creak of bed springs and knew his mouthy, yet attractive captive had risen. No matter that the heavy door at the end of the hall separated them. His hearing, among other more carnal senses, had been finely honed during his time with The Perfect Order. Years of training and on-the-spot experience had made him one of the best. But then again, every member of their little group was damn near perfect at something.
Though trained in a variety of ways, each of the operatives had their own unique specialty. With Seth, it had been the innate ability to blend in, becoming invisible in a crowded room. Or even a near-empty one. Johnnie was their own personal Macgyver. He was able to make a bomb out of nothing more than a piece of bubblegum and an inch of dental floss. Charlie, their fearless leader, was a mastermind at strategy and diversion. And Phoenix, the only woman within the Order other than Charlie, an amazing feat in itself, had a terrifying way with knives. And her body.
As for him, he could fuck. Sex was his forte and it took no time at all for him to entice his victims, skillfully wringing out every last drop of information as he seduced them with the most pleasurable experience they would ever encounter. With his acute attention to detail and unwavering dedication, they quickly became ensnared by lust and were willing to give up anything and everything for the satisfaction only he could bring them.
Sex was as much a weapon as the guns he fired. More so in some cases. Although he had learned plenty on his own, his skills became more polished, more erudite, under the tutelage of the enigmatic Charlie Dubois. There was a lot to be said about his time within The Perfect Order.
Pushing those dark memories away, he lay on the couch in the dark with his hands crossed behind his back and stared at the ceiling. He grinned as he listened to Cadence’s clumsy attempts to sneak down the hallway. He didn’t have to see her to know exactly where she was. She was telling him everything he needed to know with every movement she made. The whispery brush of her body as she pressed herself against the wall, the scrape of fingernails against the plaster as she slid down the hallway. And of course, her breathing. Though she was obviously trying to keep it quiet, he could still hear the soft hitching as she drew nearer to the living room.
After a few moments of near silence, he heard the rattle of a doorknob and rolled his eyes.
Was she actually trying the back door? Good Lord, how naïve could this girl be? Did she really think, had he been crazy enough to leave her here alone, he would just leave the door unlocked? Silly girl.
She really had no idea what she’d become involved in or how many lives rested on Phillip’s formula. She couldn’t understand what a disaster it would be for the entire world should Dmitry or some other madman find her father’s research before he did. The radiation from it alone would wipe out half of Russia. With or without her, he couldn’t allow that to happen.
Perhaps he was wrong about her. Maybe she wasn’t just some selfish American brat. She obviously loved her father enough to risk her own life trying to find him. And she’d seemed genuinely concerned enough to bandage his arm . . .
Nikolas shrugged the thought away. He didn’t want to be wrong and he certainly didn’t want to like her. He couldn’t afford to.
He continued to listen to her fumble around in the dark and wondered how long it would be before she realized she wasn’t the only one in the room. He couldn’t lay there in silence forever.
Opening his mouth, he shut it as she abruptly ran into the couch. He bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his laughter at her spray of vehement curses.
Imagine words like that coming out of such a pretty mouth . . .
He couldn’t take it anymore.
“Leaving so soon?” he asked, delighting in her childish squeal of surprise.
“Damn it. You scared the shit out of me!” Her right hand was pressed against her chest as if to keep heart from bursting through. “What do you think you’re doing sneaking around in the dark?”
“Funny,” he said, sitting up and switching on the second table lamp, “I could ask you the same thing. Although I wasn’t the one ‘sneaking around.’ I was laying here wondering how long it would be before you woke up and tried to escape.”
“I wasn’t trying to escape. I was just going to get some ice for my wrist. It hurts,” she quipped, spinning around and walking into the kitchen.
“Really? Then why try to open the door?” he countered. “The freezer is in the kitchen, not the back yard.” The girl really was a terrible liar.
As if trying to prove she was telling the truth, Cadence opened the freezer and rummaged around, keeping her back to him.
“I just wanted to see if it was locked. You know, with bad guys after us and all.”
“Right. Somehow I don’t quite believe you. Now why do you think that is?”
Cadence turned around, a frozen bag of mixed vegetables on her wrist. “How should I know? Maybe you have trust issues.”
His amusement was beginning to fade the more she talked. He was tired of her trying to lie to him. It was a waste of valuable time and energy. Rising from the couch, he advanced on her and there was no mistaking the alarm flaring in those baby blues.
Looks like I’m not the only one with trust issues.
“No, I just don’t like being lied to.”
Taking a step away from him, Cadence raised her chin in defiance. “I’m not lying.”
“Really? Then why are you holding those veggies on your left wrist. You dislocated the right one.”
Cadence’s mouth popped open, moving soundlessly. Switching the bag to the right wrist, she looked at him, her eyes blazing. “Go to hell.”
“Been there, done that, princess. Now, why don’t you tell me what you thought you were doing? Where were you going? And. Do. Not. Lie.”
“Why should I tell you?”
“I thought we went over this already. I’m trying to help you.”
“How? By drugging me?” Accusation surged through her voice, rich and deep.
Nikolas shrugged, utterly unapologetic. “You needed the sleep and I needed the time to make some arrangements.”
Cadence tilted her head, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What kind of arrangements?”
“Arrangements for our trip to Valaam.”
“Our trip? What makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?”
Pasting a lazy smile on his face, he closed the distance between them. Her back was against the refrigerator and she had nowhere to go unless she vaulted over the bar. He leaned in close enough to trace the edge of her jaw line with his finger. The fact that she was holding her breath made him smile even more. He was going to finish her. Now.
“What makes you think you have a choice?”
Releasing her bottom lip from the confines of her teeth, Cadence opened her mouth to speak just as the kitchen windows exploded inward, showering them with glass.
~ ~ ~
A scream erupted from her mouth and she instinctively raised her arms, crossing them ov
er her face in an attempt to deflect the shards of broken glass. The razor-sharp pieces bit at her flesh, stinging as they sliced and embedded themselves in her skin.
Cadence wanted to run but before she even managed to take a single step, rough hands grabbed her, yanking her down. As she fell to the floor, her nose hit the tile hard enough to make her eyes water. Nikolas lay over her, covering her body with his as the air above them echoed with the explosion of gunfire. Bullets whizzed through the room, striking everything in their path. The sound of shattering glass and crashing wood rang in her ears.
Oh my God, I’m going to die. I’m going to die.
Time stood still as the sound of destruction rained all around them, drowning out any screams or cries she might have uttered. She wanted to get up and run, but to try now, with bullets flying, would be suicide. Besides, Nikolas was laying on top of her, keeping her close to the floor and out of harm’s way. She had no choice but to lay there with his arms wrapped tightly around her, praying they would have a chance to get out of this alive.
One of Nikolas’s arms moved from her body, taking with it the security it’d offered. Whimpering, she tried to squeeze herself into a tighter ball beneath him. Through the fingers she had splayed over her eyes, she saw him bring his arm back around, only it wasn’t empty this time. His fingers gripped a gun. Small and black, it was an evil-looking piece of weaponry but it filled her with hope. Hope that he would protect her and end this madness. Unless he was killed himself. In which case, she would be doomed.
Best not to think like that. He’s saved you so far, hasn’t he?
He had saved her but they hadn’t been trapped behind a bullet-ridden bar either.