by Krista Wolf
I forced myself calm. My legs shook as I descended, step by step, peering over my shoulder the whole time. I grabbed a flute of champagne from the first passing server, being sure to turn my face well away as I muttered a ‘thank you’.
After all, it wouldn’t do to be recognized by one of my own co-workers.
It had taken me two months to get the job. Another three of living out the part, and actually working with the high-level catering company. That amounted to twelve solid weeks of serving and smiling and cleaning up afterward. Of dodging pinches and grabs from the richest old men in south-central Europe, while enduring the inevitable scathing looks from their wives.
Half a year wasted here already…
Hell, I wasn’t even guaranteed to get the assignment. And there was always the chance Kyrkos wouldn’t be attending the event here. There were so many variables. So many planets had to align…
Yet it had happened, all of it. Every gamble, every longshot. Xander Kyrkos had come to the gala, and I’d positioned myself to nail him once and for all. Everything had finally, at long last, paid off.
Except now I’d just blown it.
You didn’t blow anything, the voice in my head reminded me. Somehow he just got spooked, that’s all.
I was still going over everything in my mind. As far as I knew, I’d done everything right. Secretly I’d ditched my uniform, wriggling into the most stunning red dress imaginable. I’d used it to blend in with the party at first. Then, when I was comfortable, to meet and flirt with exactly the right henchmen.
The night wore on, and I was eventually noticed. I was taken to a small bar, set off to one side. Seated among a handful of other pretty girls, each of them awaiting the same thing I was.
As far as I knew, they were all still there.
In the end I was chosen, and an offer was made. I took it… and wound up in that darkened bedroom.
They’d searched me first of course, with my heart pounding the whole time. They did it just well enough to be intrusive. Not well enough however, to find the cold blade of the ice pick I’d very creatively hidden.
It wasn’t an ideal weapon, but it had done in a pinch. Somehow I’d managed to scrounge it from the walk-in freezer. With the highest level of guests attending, security was exceptionally tight. I hadn’t been able to find a single knife in the entire kitchen.
“Brioche?”
I shook my head at the server — Frederick, I think his name was — and looked away. I’d actually watched the chef prepare that particular appetizer: Creme Fraiche and black Caviar, smeared on a quarter-sized round of toast. I could never really understand that level of ‘food’. It just wasn’t my thing.
Right now I was rattled. My panties were saturated. I took advantage of a passing restroom and discarded them, stuffing them deep into the wastebin before washing up and splashing some cold water on my face.
I came out no less nervous, but lots more comfortable. Still moving swiftly, I passed through the columns of the peristyle hallway. My heels clacked rhythmically against the grey and white flagstones of the broad, open-air courtyard.
The sheer size of the crowd made me safe here. Or at least, as safe as I’d ever be. So far, no one was looking for me yet. Especially not amongst the guests.
But I was in a red dress. A bright red dress, tailored to my body. A dress specifically designed to get me noticed…
I lamented missing my chance tonight, but at least I hadn’t been caught. Yet I knew I would be, if I didn’t get back into my uniform. Fast.
“Excuse me?”
I turned slowly and wandered away, not really knowing whether I was being addressed or not. Secretly, of course, hoping I wasn’t.
“Excuse me, miss?”
The voice was terse now, and followed by a cold hand gripping my shoulder. I winced for half a second, then turned around slowly. But not before putting on my biggest, warmest smile.
“Yes?”
My breath caught in my throat as I realized who it was.
“I know you,” squinted the uptight-looking man standing behind me. His white hair perfectly-matched his pleated tuxedo. “You work for me.”
I tried a short laugh, but it only came out as nervous. “No I don’t.”
“Yes,” he said gravely. “You do.”
He began looking around, probably for another waiter or server. Someone who could corroborate him, and prove him right.
Shit.
“You’re not in uniform,” he said, looking down at me skeptically. “But you were when the night started.”
He was right, of course. I’d ditched my serving outfit over an hour ago, in exchange for the slinky red dress. Right now it was somewhere at the bottom of a garbage pail, in the employee restroom. Right alongside my boring work flats, which I’d swapped for expensive high heels.
“Nevermind, you’re coming with me.”
I went to leave but the man’s hand snapped downward, over my wrist. The firmness of his grip said everything. My mind clouded over, struggling for options. I started to panic…
“I—”
“Ah ha! THERE you are!”
I spun again — straight into a pair of strong, capable arms. The man suddenly holding me was tall and beautiful. He had jet black hair cropped razor-close on the sides, with high cheekbones and a masculine jaw that set off his bright, brilliant smile.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.”
His hands were exceptionally strong, yet somehow gentle at the same time. I knew this the moment he slid them around my waist, where they settled with unnatural familiarity into the small of my back.
His blue eyes flared with excitement, as he delivered a wink only I could see. Then he dipped me low…
… and gave me the hottest, most incredible open-mouthed kiss of my life.
Four
ANDREA
It was one of those moments in your life where time stopped. Where everything around you just slowed to a crawl, stretching out the next few precious seconds so you could really enjoy them.
Kissing this new stranger was just like that.
A gasp of shock and surprise escaped me, one that quickly devolved into a moan as his lips forced mine apart with near-infinite slowness. His tongue slipped into my mouth. For some reason I accepted it eagerly, tasting the sweetness as I swirled mine instinctively against his.
What in the worl—
His hands moved like they owned me. One slid its way down from my back, cupping my ass to pull me more firmly against him. The other moved to my face, touching it lightly. Caressing it with the backs of his fingers, as his lips rolled softly against mine.
Most of all though, I could feel an underlying strength and power. I was being held by two musclebound arms. My body crushed deliciously against this hard, beautiful chest. And he had a presence about him too. Not just a charisma, either — lots of guys had that. No, there was something dangerous about this man. Which was odd, considering how impeccably he was dressed, and how disarming his smile.
“Sweetheart,” my white knight said cheerfully, and in a distinct American accent. “Did you want to introduce me to your friend?”
He glared intentionally down at where my ex-boss was still grasping my wrist. The man’s arm shot back like I was giving him an electric shock.
“I… Uh…”
It was amusing, watching him stumble in confusion. He was so damned sure of himself a second ago.
“You what?”
“I thought…” His eyes shifted to me for help. Recognition dawned, and they narrowed again. “I could’ve sworn you worked for me.”
“Worked for you?” my savior repeated incredulously. He barked a short, acrid laugh. “This woman is my fiancé!”
The last word was edged with an intentional defiance and anger. At the same time, his right hand slipped over my left, to hide where an engagement ring should be. I squeezed his thumb in my palm, to indicate I understood.
“I—I’m terribly sorry, then
,” the white haired-man apologized.
“You’d better be.”
The man melted backward, into the crowd. Still holding my hand, my new paramour turned me so that my back was to him.
“Is he still looking?” he asked, without breaking his phony smile.
“Yes.”
“Then you’d better kiss me again.”
I didn’t hesitate for a second. Whoever this man was, he’d rescued me. And he somehow knew he was rescuing me, which was all the more perplexing.
Our second kiss went on even longer than the first, and that was just fine with me. He was heartbreakingly gorgeous, with strong, angular features and just the right amount of stubble. He smelled like leather and musk, with a hint of cologne. And something else, too. Something I couldn’t nail down.
Our kiss was in danger of turning into a make-out session when the music started up again. A slow waltz began playing, by the string quartet over his shoulder. He began leading. I began following…
“So who exactly are you,” I finally asked. I was feeling a little woozy now. It could’ve been from the empty champagne glass still dangling from my hand, but somehow I doubted it.
“I guess,” he said, plucking the glass away and placing it on a nearby server’s tray. “I’m your white knight.”
His blue eyes sparkled I raised an eyebrow. “A white knight dressed all in black?”
My rescuer shrugged one big shoulder. “Maybe I’m in disguise,” he said. Then, leaning in… “Just like you.”
The man pulled me against him, and I felt my pulse jump into the next range. There were people all around us, milling about. Talking and laughing as they held each other close, dancing beneath the stars.
“They made you, didn’t they?”
I pulled back to look at him. “What?”
God, his eyes were this most amazing blue-green. They reminded me of water I’d seen down in the Caribbean.
“They made you,” he said again. “They found you out.” Now those eyes darted back and forth, scanning over my shoulder. He looked disappointed. “Shit. How long ago?”
I turned and saw two groups of men, all in identical dark suits. They were coming down stairwells of the palace’s outer walls, their black shoes cracking against the ancient, crumbling stone.
And they were moving fast.
“Andrea,” he said sternly. He shook me like was breaking a trance. “How long?”
“Ten minutes,” I gasped. “Maybe twelve.” My eyes shot back to his. “Wait… How do you know my name?”
Rather than answer he spun away, dragging me along with him. For the second time tonight I let a complete stranger pull me by the hand, yanking me along as we threaded our way through the crowd.
Another group of dark-suited men flashed past us, heading in the direction we’d just come. Luckily, they didn’t stop.
“This way!”
My white-knight-dressed-in-black moved with purpose, watching everything intently. After another three suits rushed by, radios crackling, he glanced over his shoulder.
“Holy shit! Did you actually get him?”
I hesitated, then shook my head in answer. As shocked as I was by everything, I didn’t even have to ask what he meant.
“Damn.”
An ear-piercing scream rose from behind us, followed by the sound of glass breaking. I could hear people gasping. Conversations going abruptly frantic.
We’re gonna get caught…
My would-be rescuer pulled me harder, faster, until I’d reached the limits of what my heels could do. A minute later I was being dragged into a side room; some kind of alcove that might’ve been important seven-hundred years ago, but right now was being used for storage. He pulled the door three-quarters the way shut.
“Your shoes. Kick them off.”
I did it reluctantly, mourning the loss. The designer pumps had cost me almost a week’s pay.
“That red dress…” he said, looking me up and down. “It has to go too.”
“What?”
“They’re looking for it,” he hissed, peering out through a slit in the doorway. “What’s under it? Can you slip it off?”
“No, I can’t just slip it off!”
He looked around, frustrated. “Then… shit.”
The flagstones seemed to be growing colder beneath my stockinged feet. The hall was busy, a rush of activity. I backed up a little, and in the darkness bumped into something thick and soft… and familiar.
“Coats!”
“What?”
“It’s a coat closet,” I cried joyously.
I moved quickly, throwing on the first one I found that came down to my ankles. It was heavy and warm. Made from real animals, not faux fur. Even in the chaos, I wrinkled my nose at the thought.
“Okay, ready?”
My savior was poised at the door, prepared to throw it open again. He slipped one calloused hand back into mine.
“But the hall’s not clear,” I protested.
“Exactly. We go out with the crowd.”
He shifted forward, and I squeezed his hand to stop him.
“Hang on a second. Somehow you know who I am… and what I was trying to do.”
I examined him closely and he nodded.
“So then… why are you here?”
My savior pulled on the thick iron handle, flooding the closet with light. Halfway through, he paused to glance back at me.
“Same reason you are.”
Five
HOLDEN
The Palace of the Grand Master of the Knights was re-built in the 14th century, on the isle of Rhodes. It was an amazingly well-preserved castle ruin. A spectacular place to have a lavish, exclusive, high-level party.
In terms of security however, it had a thousand holes.
I took full advantage of that fact now, rushing through the underhalls of the sprawling, Gothic palace. The fancy sconces and iron candelabras were more for ambiance now, than function. They cast a warm but flickering light, leaving lots of places to hide in the shadows.
“Why are we going down?”
I’d taken the next staircase without even thinking. Though it was my first time here, I’d studied enough floor plans, old and new, that I could navigate the place in my sleep.
“Trust me.”
The blonde at the other end of my arm was gorgeous, her cheeks flushed pink with the exertion of running. She was keeping up though, especially without those godforsaken heels on. And she was doing it well.
“Shouldn’t we stick with the others?” she said. “Everyone’s going outside.”
“Yes, and that’s where they’ll be,” I countered. “Waiting for us to exit. Picking apart every person or couple who walks through that gate.”
The answer seemed good enough for her. At least for now.
It was almost surreal, that we’d encounter her tonight of all nights. That she’d have picked the exact same event we did, to finally make her move.
And yet when I thought about it, it wasn’t really that surprising at all. The palace was the perfect place for an ambush: low visibility, high probably of target. And Kyrkos was supposed to be here. There was every indication he would be here…
And still we’d missed him.
“This is the third staircase we’ve taken below the main level,” she started up again. “Are you taking us to hide or something?”
“No.”
“Then what—”
“This place was built twice,” I said, pulling her along. “The second time, over a set of seven-hundred year old ruins.”
The air was getting colder and danker now. We were reaching older tunnels that were almost completely dark.
“It’s also built on a hill,” I said. “Because originally… ah, there it is.”
The door was ancient oak, from a tree a thousand and a half years dead. It was heavy and thick. Banded with iron.
And it was also propped open, exactly as Randall said it would be.
We pushed thr
ough, and the waterfront of the city lay spread out before us. Beyond that, the Aegean Sea… its surging whitecaps sparkling like jewels in the moonlight.
I let go of her hand. It was a little crazy, but almost immediately, I missed the comfort of her touch.
“Can you run?”
There were voices above us. Everyone from the party, being forced to exit from a choke-point between the castle’s two main turrets.
“Faster than you.”
I whipped my head to look at her. She wasn’t even out of breath.
“Division one Track and Field,” she boasted. “Eight-hundred meters. Fifteen hundred meters…”
Her lips were plump and full… and wet too, like she’d just licked them. Suddenly I wanted to kiss them again. Shit, I wanted to go on kissing her forever.
“Four-hundred meter hurdles,” she went on. “Long jump, triple jump…”
“Alright, alright,” I laughed out loud. “I love it.”
The voices grew louder, probably because the crowd was getting bigger. But I could hear others now too. Sharper voices, barking orders.
“I’ll say when,” I said.
“Say where too,” she replied. “I don’t want to have to wait up for you.”
She was cocky, I’d give her that. Especially for someone who’d just botched an assassination. The idea that she’d tried to pull it off all by herself was still unbelievable to me.
“See the wharf?”
I pointed. She nodded.
“That’s where we’re going.”
I looked back at her again, this time with all new eyes. She was five-foot-nothing. Curves in exactly the right places. Her long blonde hair was pinned back over her ears, her stark blue eyes scanning the landscape laid out before us.
She’s not afraid.
It was the first thing that really struck me about her. That in all the chaos, all the confusion, she hadn’t even flinched.
In fact, she was handling everything with an uncanny calm and precision.
We already knew who she was, of course. Why she was here. Her reasons were so eerily similar to our own, we already felt a strange kinship without even knowing her.