Extreme Danger

by Shannon McKenna

  Or perhaps not. His ranks of useful and experienced men had been decimated by Solokov’s bloody spree on Frakes Island. He could not afford to kill any more out of pique. Too much work to be done, now that the thrill junkie surgeon was creating extra work.

  Idiot, to involve his half-witted mistress in his business schemes.

  He stared at the weekly schedule laid out on his laptop. The secret clinic was now fully operational, the doctors comfortably settled into their new homes, ready and waiting for the call. Each one of them was firmly in his grip, pinned by a complicated web of threats and promises. Fear and greed, the great motivators of humankind.

  He should have brought more men, he fretted. Perhaps he should contract out the anesthesiologist’s demise. They were being watched from God knew which angles and directions. Anyone who left the house would be seen, and followed.

  Then again, it would be a very easy hit. The woman lived alone, in a single home surrounded by foliage. If Mathes was correct, she should be in a drugged sleep. No intelligence was required for this.

  He cast an appraising eye on Pavel, and dismissed him out of hand. Pavel would have to be put down soon. Until that moment, he required close watching. But it seemed a shame not to delay the mercy blow until Pavel’s punishment reached its grand climax. Zhoglo was always curious to see how people came apart in extremis. It was like watching a scientific experiment. This chemical, plus that, created such and such a reaction. Add heat, add pressure…ah, fascinating.

  It had destroyed Pavel. His haggard face was dull, vacant.

  Zhoglo stirred more cream into his freshened coffee, and toyed for a moment with the thought of lifting the sword that hung over the man’s neck. Letting little Sasha live. He could be merciful. Theoretically.

  Then he thought of the bodies Solokov had left behind on the island, and hardened his resolve. Going back on his word would undermine his authority with the other men. Besides, Mathes had found profitable homes for everything Sasha’s scrawny little body had to offer, right down to the boy’s corneas. It satisfied Zhoglo’s penchant for thriftiness. And the fees added up to a handsome total.

  He could hardly wait to observe the debut harvest, scheduled for tomorrow night. Sergei’s girl. Finally. It would be fascinating to watch.

  But back to business. Kristoff, no. Too stupid. Perhaps he should kill the man after all, just so he wouldn’t have to look at him. Mikhail, perhaps. Zhoglo observed the new man, Mikhail, who had done the hacking for him. He had a scholarly look, but beneath it, an air of chill competence. “Mikhail, have you been observing the activity outside?”

  “A worker from a utility company up the telephone pole at five A.M.,” Mikhail said promptly. “And two new vehicles are parked on the block, none of the license plates corresponding to residences on this street. I assume cameras are trained on the house, but unless I approach them to sweep for radio signals, I cannot confirm—”

  “And have them know we know?” Zhoglo snapped. “Don’t be thick.”

  Mikhail subsided, mouth tightening.

  “We have that meeting with Dahler on Monday,” Pavel said dully. “We cannot go forward with that meeting with this security breach.”

  Zhoglo turned unbelieving eyes on the man. After all this, the fool dared to critizice his Vor’s judgment. The look pierced even Pavel’s apathy. His eyes dropped to the carpet.

  “Ironic, to hear you voice concern about security, Pavel, since your incompetence was what caused this necessity. We will relocate soon. When the trap is baited.”

  “Vor, it is dangerous to—”

  “I must have Solokov.” Zhoglo’s voice smashed down on the other man’s words like a club. “I want to crush his beating heart in my hand.”

  Pavel shut up, and turned to stare out the window.

  Zhoglo clicked on his mouse, and activated the monitor mounted on the wall. Several windows were open, each showing a different location. One showed a flicker of movement.

  He clicked to enlarge it, until the image filled the entire screen. The garden apartment downstairs, where Rebecca Cattrell’s lusty young brother Joshua was fornicating enthusiastically, dog style, with the beautiful prostitute, Nadia. It had been so easy, reeling him in. Though not, perhaps, for Nadia. The boy’s stamina was incredible. Well into day number two, and they had barely stopped to sleep. Ah, youth.

  The men in the room all watched with rapt attention. Nadia swayed back to meet the boy’s vigorous thrusts, hair and breasts swinging, mouth open with gasping wails of simulated pleasure.

  “You are recording this, are you not?” he asked Mikhail.

  “Certainly, Vor,” Mikhail assured him.

  Nadia looked over her shoulder, said something to the boy. He pulled out, and sprawled on the bed with an obliging grin. Nadia gripped his stiff penis, swung her leg over him, and inserted him into her perfectly shaven, delicate pink genitalia with practiced skill.

  She flung her head back, tossed her hair and smiled for the camera as her hips pulsed rhythmically over the boy’s long, lanky body.

  Watching the girl perform soothed Zhoglo’s ruffled temper. Perhaps he would sample her charms himself. The subtleties of her art were wasted on that gangling boy. But Joshua would serve his purpose, before he was broken down for parts.

  Bait. When Zhoglo wished, Rebecca would come running.

  And her lover would follow her.

  Nick was a good dancer. Becca wasn’t sure why she found that so surprising. Ballroom dancing seemed so lighthearted a skill for a basically grim guy, but sheesh, he was smiling today and that affected her even more than the admittedly excellent champagne. It was dizzy, madcap fun, being swirled and dipped, spun and yanked smoothly back into the confident grip of his hands. He led with such graceful self-confidence, she’d even managed to relax and follow him without stumbling too often. Which said a great deal for his ability, since she’d certainly never had the leisure to acquire a nonessential skill like dancing. She just faked it and hoped for the best.

  And Nick, coincidentally, was the best.

  “Where did you learn to dance?” she asked him, when a slow dance had them swaying in a breathlessly tight clinch.

  He grinned. “The military. Lost a bet once. Had to take a ballroom dancing course as a penalty. Found out I liked it. Or maybe it was the teacher I liked. She was this cute little blonde who explained to me that dancing was just like sex. That made a big impression on me.”

  “I can well imagine,” she said sourly. “And did she do a demonstration, for comparison purposes?”

  His grin widened. “Do you really want an honest answer to that question?”

  She opened her mouth to reply, and he cut her off with a slow kiss that turned her knees to pudding, right out in front of that crowd.

  Weddings were dangerous. Becca had realized that as soon as she saw the look on the groom’s face as his bride came up the aisle on her father’s arm. Sean McCloud’s face literally shone with happiness.

  It made her eyes fog up and her throat turn hot and tight, and her chest ache with longing she was afraid to define. All the stuff that seemed so far beyond her reach. Love. Rootedness. A real home. Babies. Weddings brought all those sad, silly dreams up to the surface.

  The service had been brief and beautiful. While the bride and groom exchanged rings, Nick’s hand slid beneath her own, and his fingers threaded through hers. It made her heart thud, and her face flame hot with emotion. How did she dare interpret that gesture?

  No. Don’t even. She couldn’t afford to make silly assumptions. Life was too uncertain. He probably just didn’t like to hear her crying.

  She’d sniffed the tears back, gritted her teeth and clutched Nick’s strong hand, hard, so he couldn’t change his mind and pull it back.

  The bride and groom’s passionate kiss released the tension. The room exploded in a storm of hoots, whistles and wild applause. Nick turned to her and gave her a hungry, possessive kiss, like he was staking his claim, in front of eve
ryone.

  God, it was enough to make a girl dizzy. Confused. Dangerously hopeful. The handholding, the jealous grip around her waist, the way he introduced her to everybody as his girlfriend…wow. To think that she, Busy Becca with the glasses and the To-Do lists, was this hot, sexy, mysterious guy’s girlfriend. It seemed so wonderfully improbable.

  The party had been great, just as Nick had said. The food was great, the wine was wonderful, the music was blazing hot, and his friends were all so nice to her. Everybody had made such a big fuss.

  The band ended their set, and the DJ put on some interim music as the catering staff began distributing the plates of wedding cake. Nick escorted her back to their table and pulled out her chair.

  “Gotta go check the surveillance set-up,” he murmured into her ear. “Save me a piece of cake, babe.” And off he went. Becca ran her eye hastily over the other occupants of the table, trying to remember their names. The black-haired guy with the wicked grin was Seth, the willowy silver blond with him was his wife Raine. Margot was collapsed in her chair looking exhausted, and no wonder, with that enormous pregnant belly of hers. The hunky blond guy hovering anxiously over her was Davy, one of the brothers of the equally hunky blond groom.

  In fact, she’d never seen such a high concentration of good-looking people in one room in her entire life. Eye candy everywhere.

  Then there was the pretty brunette, Erin, who had an adorable baby she was discreetly preparing to nurse under her midnight blue shawl, while her husband Connor looked on adoringly.

  She met Margot’s eyes. The woman was smiling at her, like a soft-eyed madonna. “You’re really good for him,” she said quietly. “I’ve never seen Nick smile like that. He was even laughing. It’s incredible.”

  Becca blushed. “Oh, yeah. If there’s one thing I’m good for, it’s comic relief.”

  “Uh-uh,” the silver blonde named Raine said. “He’s head over heels. And about time. We were all starting to worry. We’ve been trying to fix him up with our single girlfriends for years, but nothing stuck.”

  Becca felt vaguely panicked, as if their easy assumptions about a happy ending could somehow jinx her dawning hopes. “Oh, no, we just met,” she said. “It’s not—I mean, we haven’t—we’re definitely not, um, stuck. Yet.”

  “Oh, no,” Seth said, chortling. “Not stuck. Just locking lips every ten seconds. And for what? To confuse us? For the record, it’s working.”

  “Margot. I’m hurt. Why didn’t you seat me at the lovebirds’ table? The one with Nikolai’s new little friend?”

  Becca turned at the sound of that husky, sensual alto voice. It was a woman she’d noticed in the bridal party. A spectacular beauty with a corona of braided dark hair and tilted golden eyes, resplendent in a bronze taffeta evening dress trimmed with dangling jet beads.

  “Because I didn’t want you to scare her to death and put her off us all forever,” Margot said, in a warning tone. “Be nice, Tam.”

  “Bullshit. If she can handle that foul-mouthed lout Nikolai, she can handle me.” The woman named Tam pulled out Nick’s chair and sank down next to Becca, with a whispering rustle of full skirts. She gave Becca a slow and not particularly friendly once-over.

  Becca shrank back. Her simple bias cut dress in dusty pink was very pretty, particularly with the aggressive way that her new bustier propped up her boobs, but the outfit was no match for the other woman’s Marie Antoinette splendor.

  Tam reached out, and plucked the spaghetti strap of Becca’s gown. “Nice dress,” she said. “Good color for you and it showcases your breasts. But those glasses are harsh for a pretty pink flower like you. And someone has to break it to you, honey. When you’re wearing cool-toned pink, don’t go for hot red lipstick. It hurts the eyes.”

  Becca’s hairs prickled. She resisted the impulse to cover her slut red mouth with her hand. “I’m not a flower,” she said in a very clear voice. “And what a lucky thing it is for us both that I don’t need your approval.”

  Tam froze for a moment. She blinked. A slow smile curved her perfect mocha-painted mouth. “I was hoping you’d have backbone, just to make things more interesting,” she said. “You’ll need all of it to wrangle that man into shape. No woman’s ever succeeded so far.”

  “Good. That’s just as well,” Becca said loftily. “I actually prefer to be the first. That way I can break him in properly.”

  Seth, Davy and Connor all coughed and sputtered into their coffee. Tam applauded slowly. “Ah. That’s the spirit. I’m starting to see why Nikolai lost his head. The dewy green eyes that go blink blink, the big bouncing tits, the alabaster skin. Laid out naked on Zhoglo’s altar.”

  Blood drained from Becca’s face, and the warmth from her body disappeared into an invisible sinkhole, leaving her ice cold and shivering with fear, to hear that name invoked here.

  “What do you know about that?” she whispered.

  Tam smiled, and chucked Becca under the chin. “Ah, sweetheart,” she murmured. “I know everything.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed, and after a few teeth-grinding seconds of it, Seth clapped his hands together heartily. “Uh, well, then. Moving right along. Raine made me promise not to ask any questions about that crazy shit, but since Tam’s already broken the ice—”

  “Seth!” Raine said, in a warming tone. “I meant what I said.”

  “But I want more details!” Seth complained. “Nick just gave us bare bones, and I mean, white, bleached, dry as dust bones. Tightlipped son of a bitch. Mr. Monosyllable. It breaks my balls.”

  Becca floundered for a moment. “Ah, well, maybe after some more time has gone by,” she hedged. “It’s not something I want to dwell on.”

  Not while she was on the man’s hit list, that was for sure.

  “What did I tell you?” Raine tapped her husband’s chest with an admonishing finger. “Jerk. Now you pay the penalty.”

  “Oh, no!” Seth turned a comically sad face Becca’s way. “She’s boycotting my second favorite sexual activity for a week!”

  Becca held back giggles. “Oh, dear. That’s terrible. What will you do?”

  “Oh, I’ll live,” he assured her. “There’s always my first favorite activity to fall back on, and there’s nothing I love more than—ow!” He turned to Raine, looking hurt. “Hey! Those stiletto heels are sharp!”

  Raine shot Becca a sidelong, embarrassed smile. “Sorry about that,” she said. “He’s a wild animal. I told him not to bug you about it. I can well imagine why you wouldn’t want to talk about Zhoglo.”

  “Don’t.” Nick’s adamant voice cut across Raine’s and silenced everyone at the table. “Don’t mention his name. He might hear you.”

  Everyone turned to look at Nick, who was staring down at Tam, slit-eyed.

  “So what’s Milla up to?” Davy asked quietly.

  Nick shrugged. Tam smiled coolly back at him. “Plying her trade,” he said. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Hey, Tam.”

  “Nikolai,” she cooed. “At last we meet. You’ve been avoiding me like a pro all day. And here I was, dying to meet the virgin sacrifice.”

  “Yeah? Were you?” His jaw was taut. “And?”

  “She’s absolutely succulent,” Tam said. “I congratulate you on your lovely acquisition. So my confidence was not betrayed in vain, hm? And my contact was not put in mortal danger for nothing. At least you’re finally getting properly laid. There’s an up side to everything, eh?”

  Becca leaped to her feet. “It wasn’t his fault that I showed up and ruined everything! So you can just back off, lady!”

  Her voice rang loud enough so that people from the other tables started to look around, intrigued. Nick gave her a startled look.

  “Lay off, Tam,” Erin said, her face somber as she cuddled her suckling baby. “Don’t be a horrible bitch.”

  “Sorry, Erin. Face reality. Unfortunately, I am a horrible bitch,” was Tam’s crisp rejoinder. “Let him defend himself. Our Nikolai, the constant fuck-up. You’ll se
e what I mean, honey, when that inevitable day comes that you’re on the receiving end of one of his big, fat, mortal errors. If you live long enough to realize what happened, that is.”

  Becca bristled. “He is not a fuck-up!”

  “No?” Tam’s crack of laughter had a brittle edge to it, like broken glass. “Ask him to tell you about Novak sometime.”

  Davy’s chair scraped as he rose to his feet and glowered down at her. “Goddamnit, Tam. Leave, if you can’t bring yourself to be civil.”

  “Civil?” Tam snorted. “Civility is just the denial of reality. I’m very bad at denying reality. I suppose that’s why I tend to be unpopular.”

  Becca grabbed Nick’s hand. It was stiff and unresponsive.

  The look on his face made her stomach clench. The man she’d been kissing and laughing with and dancing with was gone. His face was pale and his eyes had that dead flatness they’d had during the very worst moments of their deadly adventure this weekend.

  She hated to see him like that. All the life drained out of his beautiful face, grim, iron-jawed endurance in its place.

  “I think it’s time for us to take a break,” she said, to the table at large. “It was a fabulous party. Thank you for being so welcoming and sweet to me. It was great to meet you all.” She shot a cold glance at Tam. “Except for you.” She grabbed Nick’s hand. “Come on, Nick.”

  He followed her like an automaton.

  Chapter

  24

  Nick allowed himself to be towed along. His limbs felt stiff.

  He was a fool for giving in to it. Letting himself go, getting mushy and mellow. After a lifetime of training, he oughta know better.

  Well, hell. He was used to being a disappointment, after seeing that look on his father’s face for years.

  There was a trick to surviving it. You just had to not give a shit.

  He’d mastered that trick with his father, though it had taken years of practice to get it right. But it was entirely a different proposition to do it with Becca.