by Jamie Craig
“That’s because he cares about you.”
“Yes. Enough to worry about saving my life even though I very nearly ended his. He’s a good man to have on your side, Remy.”
That was what it took for her to draw back. “I already have a good man on my side.”
“I’m asking you to trust him, because you’ll need his help if you want to stop Kirsten before she can stop you. And he’ll help because I asked him. I just want you to understand he doesn’t hate you, he doesn’t have anything against you personally.”
“I know,” Remy conceded. “It’s just…he’s a cop. I’ve spent most of my life on the other side of the fence, with guys like him trying to run me down. Forgetting that’s not so easy.”
“This entire situation is something new and unexpected for all of us. I never thought I’d…well, find somebody like you.” He remembered what Isaac had asked him, his own words echoing back. “Find somebody worth it.”
She fell silent again. Somewhere in the far distance, a dog barked.
When she moved, Nathan wasn’t sure what to expect. She was liberal with touches, physical at moments that surprised him. Remy seemed to relish exploring every little nuance, perhaps to see how far she could go before he told her to stop. A woman testing her new boundaries. It made sense in light of her current situation.
So it came as a mild shock when he felt her fingertips on his face, tracing the scope of his nose, outlining the curve of his mouth. Then her lips were pressed to his, but where she had always turned previous caresses into something sexual, this remained simple.
“I’ll try.” He felt her mouth shift against his and realized she was smiling. “And for the record? Five years without sex did nothing but make you amazing.”
“I was just trying to keep up with you.” Nathan yawned. “But I think you wore me out.”
When he rolled onto his back, Remy followed, settling her cheek against his shoulder as his arm curved around to pull her more closely. “No way am I taking all that credit. I think some of that was Tian’s fault.”
“No, I’m pretty sure I can lay most of the blame at your feet.” He kissed her temple, her hair tickling his lips. “Not that it’s a problem. You can wear me down anytime you like.”
“Tomorrow,” she promised. Her soft breath skimmed along his skin, an even rhythm that was more hypnotic than the heat of her pressed to his side. “Now…sleep.”
“Yes…sleep.” His mind was still turning, though, working through everything he had been through the past forty-eight hours, everything he had told Remy. He felt as if a burden had been lifted. He had been honest with Remy, told her how much he had screwed up, and she…well, she was still there.
That was one less thing to worry about, one less obstacle. But Nathan knew they still had much larger problems headed their way.
* * *
No more running away for her, Kirsten thought grimly as she examined her reflection in the mirror bolted to the closet door. McGuire’s bullet had grazed her calf, leaving a deep enough furrow to have her worried about blood loss. She had gone straight to the nearest hospital, dropped a wad of cash—almost all that was left from her watch—onto the counter in lieu of an insurance card, and then passed out.
An hour later, she woke up with her leg throbbing and her pants leg cut away to show a dozen stitches spidering along her pale skin. Primitive, but probably effective. The elderly doctor had instructed her to stay put while the police came in to take a report—and the irony that she had forgotten gunshot injuries still had to be investigated in this time didn’t escape her—but that was all Kirsten needed to make a run for it.
It wasn’t like they could find her anyway. She wouldn’t exist for another fifty years.
The cheap no-tell motel she’d found was a far cry from her lush accommodations in Beverly Hills. Since she had nothing else she was willing to pawn, cheap was a necessity, offering anonymity when McGuire came looking for her again. She had no doubts he would. Her evening out had given up the one piece of information she wished she’d had before meeting him. His ex-partner was the proud owner of a vintage Mustang that had been involved in a shooting at a club called Rojo. Witnesses placed a woman matching Remy Capra’s description leaving the scene with him. Somehow, Kirsten had managed to find the one cop in Los Angeles who could both help her in her search and thwart her at the same time.
She had a name, though. Nathan Pierce. And McGuire’s appearance at her hotel with the manager meant she had to be more covert in finding him. That was why she had run. She wasn’t getting slowed down by questions McGuire wouldn’t like the answers to. Kirsten had already spent too much time in the past. The longer it took to find Remy, the worse her odds in retrieving the Silver Maiden coin. Returning without it wasn’t an option.
With a sigh, she stretched out on the lumpy bed and closed her eyes. McGuire wasn’t an obstacle. She wouldn’t allow him to be. Pierce was a mystery, but Kirsten had little doubt he would prove as easy to get around as McGuire.
Because behind Pierce was Remy. And the Silver Maiden. Only after Kirsten killed Remy to get the coin could she go home.
* * *
“I hate this place,” Cesar said, his voice barely carrying over the crashing waves outside the bedroom window. Stretched out on the bed, he stared up at the ceiling, a permanent scowl affixed to his features.
Tian glanced around the dark but luxurious room. “You’ve been waiting your whole life to live in a place like this.”
“Fuck it.”
Tian ignored him, thumbing through the text messages on his cell phone. Alex had sent them in like clockwork, every fifteen minutes.
Until twenty-seven minutes ago.
N—in his apartment. With that girl.
Then…N—still there.
No change.
Things got interesting about an hour before when Alex reported Pierce had left his apartment—without his new little girlfriend. Alex had waited for Tian’s word to act, eager to do whatever he said. And now, there was nothing but silence.
“Should have done it yourself, man. You know Alex isn’t smart enough to bring him in,” Cesar rasped.
“And what? Leave you here alone? Alex may be big, but he’s not dumb. He’ll get them both.”
“Whatever. You know Gabriel was expecting to hear from you tonight. You’ve been too caught up in this shit and you’re going to piss him off, and then what are we going to do, huh?” Cesar asked, pushing himself up in bed.
“He’ll get his answer tonight,” Tian snarled. “And we have to do something about Pierce before we can go through with this little arrangement. He’s just going to fuck it up if he’s not out of the picture.”
“Should have told them to shoot on sight.”
Tian slammed the phone shut and stood, crossing the room to the window. The moonlight sparkled against the waves as they pounded against the shore. When Gabriel had set them up in his private beach house, Tian thought he was where he belonged. Until the first night. Goddamned waves kept him up until dawn. At least Nathan Pierce didn’t know to find them there. Cesar needed the time to recover.
“What are you going to do if they manage to bring him in anyway?” Cesar asked Tian’s back.
Before Tian answered, his phone chirped. He hastened to read the message, but his excitement dimmed as he deciphered the shortened words. “Alx ht. N escaped. Po involved,” he muttered. “Fuck.”
Cesar grunted. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.
“He’s expecting us to come after him.” Tian began to pace. “But I bet he’s not expecting Gabriel’s crew.”
Cesar smiled. “Sealing the deal with a hit?”
“Something like that. You still want that girl?”
Cesar’s eyes flashed in the dim light, and his smile widened. “Fair’s fair, Tian. See how she likes getting knifed in the back. And the front.”
Tian nodded. “Right.” His black mood lifted as he dialed, and by the time he heard Gabr
iel’s familiar deep voice on the other end of the line, he was almost chipper.
Chapter Thirteen
She liked watching Nathan sleep.
It was more than the freedom to stare and appreciate how gorgeous he was. It was getting to witness a few moments when his guard was down. To see the man he could be if the world didn’t force him to wear such heavy armor during his waking hours.
She knew about armor.
His mouth was softer. Remy knew from his kisses how gentle he could be, but beyond the physical, when life happened and he stared down the barrel of his gun and dared anybody to even think about fucking with him, he had a tendency to keep it tight. It was the same impenetrable line he had drawn around his life, keeping outsiders out and only Isaac in. And Remy in too, now, it would appear.
The faint lines around his eyes weren’t as deep, either. In his sleep, Nathan let go of the strict control that made him so effective at his job. She couldn’t tell if he dreamed, but regardless, it was enough to give him a few minutes of peace from the specters of his past. Knowing who and what some of them were made all the difference in appreciating what he gave her.
Propping up her head, Remy ghosted her fingertips over the scar at the base of Nathan’s throat. It astonished her that he had admitted as much as he had. Maybe enough time had passed and the need for a confessional was too great. He might consider her safe. A stranger who wouldn’t judge.
But she did judge. Not him. Not even Isaac, whose antagonism was now more than understandable. Remy passed judgment on this Susanna who had stripped five years from Nathan’s life with the calm slice of a knife. It was one thing to do what was necessary to survive. Remy’s past was certainly littered with its share of violent crimes. However, she drew the line at emotional manipulation.
Kirsten was a chilling master at that. It was another reason why Remy hated her so much.
Without thinking, she bent and brushed her lips over Nathan’s, needing the warm reminder of his breath fanning across her cheek. She almost moaned at the contact, but instead of deepening the caress and risk waking him, she let her mouth slide along his jaw, nuzzling his cheek with hers in as faint a touch as she could manage.
Nathan surprised Remy by wrapping his arm around her, pulling her tight against him. He turned his head, finding her mouth without opening his eyes and kissed her softly. “Good morning.”
“Hey. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”
He shook his head. “No, Isaac is already up. I can hear him in there. He’ll be knocking on the door any minute.”
“Then let him knock.”
She had heard Isaac, too, but she wasn’t in a hurry for another face-to-face. However, if Nathan knew Isaac was up, that meant he had been awake much longer than the few seconds after her kisses. She wondered if he was aware she had been watching him.
“How did you sleep?”
Nathan’s free hand slid down her ribs to rest on her hip. “Not too good.”
In spite of his touch, Remy stiffened. “Why? And don’t tell me I snore because I know for a fact I don’t.”
He kissed the corner of her mouth. “You do snore, but that’s not what I meant.” Smiling at her gasp of indignation, he added, “I had all these dreams. Like the other night, except worse.”
“Dreams?” She squeaked as he rolled on top of her, pinning her to the mattress with his long length. His morning erection pressed into her stomach, and when he took her wrists to lift them over her head, a fresh surge of arousal rushed through her veins. “Do I want to know what happened in these dreams?”
“I could show you.” Running his tongue along the curve of her neck, he slid his free hand between them, skimming past her stomach to the damp juncture of her thighs. One finger teased the tip of her clit. “But you have to be quiet.”
She answered him with a silent nod. As she curved her legs around his hips, her gaze went to Nathan’s mouth and the soft set of his lower lip. Delectable. Tempting. Too tempting. It took only a slight lift of her head to catch it between her teeth and even less for him to respond, his tongue hot and languid as it pushed past hers.
Nathan continued kissing her as he settled the head of his cock against her slick opening. He was just beginning to thrust forward when a soft knock on the door stopped him.
Frustration flashed in his eyes before he shouted over his shoulder, “You’re lucky I can’t reach my gun!”
“And you’re lucky I even bothered to knock!” Isaac shot back. “Manuel called. He’s faxing some stuff he wants you to look at, said it might be important, so get your ass out here.” There was a pause. “And make sure it’s dressed. I’m not as interested in what you look like naked as Remy is.”
She was smiling by the time Nathan shifted his attention back to her. “I’m not sure anybody could be as interested as I am.”
Nathan smirked. “Some day, I’ll tell you about the night he was,” he said, then called out, “We’ll be right out!”
Isaac was waiting for them on the couch, a jelly doughnut in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. He had red frosting on his upper lip, but he seemed too engrossed by what he was reading to notice.
“You bought doughnuts? Did you get any chocolate ones?” When Isaac didn’t respond, Nathan lost interest in breakfast and peered over the other man’s shoulder. “What is it?”
“Look like fairy tales to me.” He passed back one of the pages without looking around. Even when Remy sat cross-legged on the corner of the couch, reaching across his legs to grab a doughnut from the box, Isaac didn’t stop reading. “I thought you said you were getting intel on a coin.”
Nathan frowned. “I was.” He scanned the page, noting the fuzzy picture on the bottom. “And it is about the coin.” His eyes widened as he continued to read. “And I think it might be the intel we need.”
“What does it say?” Remy asked around a mouthful of food.
“It’s the legend of the Silver Maiden.”
“The who?”
Nathan shook his head. “Not the who, the what. It’s what the coin is called. According to this, there are actually two, or rather, two sides. The one in our possession is the front side.” He began reading from the page. “The Silver Maiden is made of pure silver and was forged by hand on the banks of the Silver River, appropriately enough. Nobody knows who made it or when, but the story is that a young woman was carried across the Silver River and forced into slavery by the men who mined the river for its riches. It was discovered she had a certain talent as a silversmith, and so they took her out of the kitchens where she had spent most of her life, and put her to work with the silver.
“She saved the tiny shavings of silver, keeping them well hidden so nobody could accuse her of stealing, and she labored over the hot fires, smelting and molding the silver into bars. Finally, when she was old, and very sick, she took the bits and pieces she had scraped together and melted them down. She created a mold for the coin she intended to make, both sides carved painstakingly, but frightened she would be caught, she couldn’t melt all her silver at once. She melted enough for one side one night, and the other side the next week, creating a pair of coins instead of one.”
Nathan took a deep breath and looked at Remy before continuing. “She intended to use the coins to buy her freedom. They would hold a certain value beyond the price of the silver because she was a Priestess before she had been enslaved. It doesn’t say to which god. It just mentions a popular and powerful cult. Apparently, the iconography of the coin was inspired by this cult, and she hoped it would create enough local interest to exchange for her freedom. She also anointed the coin with…oils of some sort. Perhaps the essences of flowers? It’s not specific. And tears. Once it was completed, she prayed over it for a full day and night.”
“Prayed for what?” Remy asked.
“Her freedom. She prayed the coin would take her away. But she had been a captive for too long, and the followers of her god had been scattered and killed through t
he years, until the cult had been all but forgotten. Nobody recognized her coin, and nobody was interested. She knew she was dying, but she wasn’t willing to give up on her plan. She wanted to take her last breath as a free woman.”
Remy straightened. “Did she?”
“Hand me the next page.”
Isaac did so without speaking or betraying any of his thoughts about what he had heard so far.
“But as the days passed, she realized her final wish would not come to pass. They did take her out of the sweltering heat where they melted down the silver, but they didn’t grant her freedom. One morning, she was sent to gather fruit from the riverbanks. They gave her a sharp knife to cut through the brush. She never returned. When her captors realized she was missing, they sent a few men to look for her, but they couldn’t find her. After searching for three days, they found the coins, the bloodied knife, and the tracks of an unknown beast. The second coin was stained with her blood.”
“So…what?” Isaac asked. “After all that she just died? What a great story.”
“Or she turned into the beast,” Remy suggested.
Nathan’s voice was as subdued as hers. “She finally got the one thing she wanted more than anything. Her freedom.”
Isaac gaped at him. “You don’t believe this bedtime story, do you?”
Nathan caught Remy’s eye before looking down at the pages in hand. “I don’t know.”
“I do.” Because it made sense. Finally, a piece of the puzzle slipped into a place that fit, and Remy was starting to see the big picture.
When both men turned curious gazes toward her, she refused to look away. They didn’t understand. They weren’t the ones who had found themselves dumped in the middle of a warehouse in a place and time that shouldn’t have been possible. While Nathan was giving her the benefit of the doubt for now, Isaac had no reason to believe in anything but what he saw with his own two eyes.