by Lora Leigh
She wasn’t ugly. She wasn’t a beauty queen. She would never stop traffic with her looks, or really even most men. But she wasn’t ugly. She was a little plain. She might have flashes of prettiness if she was lucky.
Micah liked her. He was attracted to her. He got hard for her more often than just for a pity fuck.
She touched her cheek. Her skin was clear. Her eyes were a little pale, but her nose was straight. Her fingers trailed to her neck where a faint red spot marred her skin. Micah’s mark.
Her knees went weak, a sob caught in her throat, and she had to brace her hands against the sink to keep from sinking to the floor.
He’d marked her flesh and her soul. And now he would make certain that demons from her past were eradicated.
He cared for her.
He might not love her, she thought, but perhaps he cared for her. She was certain he cared for her. It had been in his eyes before he left.
Caring wasn’t love, though.
She shook her head and forced herself out of the bedroom and back into the living room.
Nik was sitting in a large easy chair, but he seemed to dwarf it. The man was seriously large. His shoulders were heavy and broad, his legs long and powerful. The hint of a beard and mustache darkened his strong jaw and emphasized the slightest bit of fullness in his lower lip.
He wasn’t a handsome man, she thought. He was unique. Savage in his looks perhaps, with the prominent cheekbones and the dark tint of his skin.
He looked dangerous, with the same hard-eyed glint that Micah often carried.
Risa moved back to the couch, curled up in the corner, and dragged the blanket back over her. She was cold, though she knew the apartment wasn’t really chilly. It was an inner cold that she wondered if she would ever be free of.
The cold that came from shock and disbelief.
How was her grandmother dealing with this? she wondered.
Abigail had been through a lot. She had faced the truth of what her only child had become, and now she had learned that the man she had been in a relationship with for nearly a decade was a rapist and the sort who would hire a killer.
“Will the world ever be sane again?” Risa whispered.
“Was it ever?” Nik asked with cool curiosity. “Most people live in whatever dreamworld they build for themselves, Risa. The key to survival is to see the world as it is. It was never sane.”
No, it wasn’t. At least not during her lifetime.
She sighed wearily and watched the clock across the room. She watched each second tick by and held on to the thought that Micah wasn’t alone. He had a whole team as backup. He would survive.
He might not return, but he would survive.
MICAH WAS SILENT as the van pulled into place outside the brick wall that surrounded the estate on the back end. The van doors were thrown open, and like shadows he, Travis, Jordan, and Noah spilled from the vehicle. Behind the van Micah rode in, another eased to a stop and the four men of the Durango team joined them as they rushed the wall.
The six-foot perimeter stone wall was scaled in seconds as each man hoisted himself over it and dropped to a crouch before moving steadily for the three-story white brick mansion set in the middle of the five-acre property.
The house was silent. Oswald Heinrick’s sporty personal vehicle sat in the drive at an odd angle. He’d rushed home from the ball at the same time that Risa had left. He’d known she remembered him. Standing there in the lobby surrounded by all his medical buddies in their pristine suits with their noses in the air, he’d known he was finished.
“Maverick taking main entrance.” Micah spoke into the mic that curved along his jaw from the receiver at his ear as he eased up to the wide front doors.
“Black Jack back. Security disengaged,” Travis responded.
Travis was at the back door where the main security terminal was located and disabled.
Micah pulled the electronic lock pick from the belt at his side, slid the metal spike into the lock, and engaged it.
The sound of the tumblers disengaging had a smile pulling at his lips. Within seconds both locks were disengaged. He eased the door open, weapon in hand, eyes narrowed against the pitch-black recess of the entryway.
“We have no lights,” he announced quietly. “No sound.”
“Maverick, proceed with night vision,” Jordan ordered. “Let’s not spook him yet.”
Maverick adjusted the night-vision device over his eyes and scanned the entryway through the green haze that picked up each detail.
“Maverick moving in.”
“Heat Seeker moving in,” John announced through the receiver from the side entrance.
“Black Jack in,” Travis announced from the back door. “Silent as a tomb.”
“Team one, clear the way for teams two and three,” Jordan announced.
Micah moved into place, the lightweight P-90 held comfortably in his hands as he covered the main staircase.
“Main case covered,” he stated.
Two shadowed figures moved from the door and quickly up the stairs.
“Maverick scanning.” He moved from the staircase to begin a search of each room in his designated area of the house.
It was huge. There were more sitting rooms in the damned place than there was anything else. Heavy, dark wood furniture graced each room. The green aura cast over it by the night-vision device gave it an unearthly appearance as Micah felt the hairs at the back of his neck rise.
“Scanning floor.” Reno’s voice slid over the communications link as his team reached the second floor.
“Scanning three,” Clint announced as his team reached the third floor.
It was too damned quiet. The silence was heavy and filled with premonition as Micah moved through the rooms and headed for the kitchen.
“Maverick clear and moving to the kitchen,” he informed the other agents.
“Black Jack moving in to your left,” Travis informed him.
“Heat Seeker to your right,” John stated.
They met at each doorway that led into the huge dining room and came to a stop. Weapons raised, the clicks of the safeties disengaging echoed in the silence.
“Son of a bitch,” Heat Seeker breathed out roughly. “Live Wire, we have a small problem here.”
“Report,” Jordan demanded.
“Looks like Orion beat us to the bait. We have a hit, and it’s messy.”
Heinrick was spread out on his mahogany dining room table. His legs were chained to a heavy metal rod chained to a heavy hook in the ceiling above.
He was naked, his lower body lifted, his wrists chained to hooks at the floor, his head lying over the end of the table.
His throat and wrists were sliced. His eyes were opened wide, his expression one of horror as he stared back at them.
The scent of blood and death lay heavy in the room as the skylight painted a wash of moonglow over the macabre scene.
“Maverick?” Jordan snapped into the receiver. “What do you see?”
“Death,” he stated before looking around the room.
There was a painting propped on the floor; where it should have hung was an open safe that had been recessed into the wall.
Micah caught Travis’s attention and pointed to the safe.
“We have an open safe, digital code; it’s empty,” Travis reported.
“Teams two and three moving in,” Reno reported.
“Team one, secure the scene; I’m coming in,” Jordan ordered. “Pin lights only and watch where you step. Let’s not leave anything for the authorities to find when the body’s discovered.”
Micah stared at Heinrick, then back at the safe. The contact Jordan had used for intel on this assignment had said Orion’s employer had something on him, something that kept Orion from making his retirement plans. Evidently, Orion had found that information.
Was it the information that Orion was CIA? Or something more?
“Tehya, check in with Nik,” Micah ordered as Jordan m
oved into the room.
“Checking, Maverick,” Tehya stated.
Jordan eased in beside him and stared at the scene as Micah’s narrow beam lit the area.
“Hell,” he breathed out roughly. “Black Jack, you missed something. How did the bastard get in and out on us?”
“The same way we got in?” Travis asked. “Or he could have been waiting for him.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Reno growled. “Orion was supposed to be at the party. He can’t be in two places at once.”
“And now he’s gone,” Jordan stated.
“Live Wire, Maverick, I can’t raise Hell Raiser,” Tehya announced into the link. “I repeat, Hell Raiser is not responding.”
Micah froze. For the longest second, horror raced through him.
“Risa,” he breathed her name out in a sense of dread. “Son of a bitch, he’s gotten to Risa.”
He turned and was moving before Jordan could stop him. He heard Jordan bark a command for his return, and it was ignored. He rushed from the mansion, aware of others following him.
He couldn’t seem to run fast enough. Adrenaline poured through him, rage locked into every muscle and tendon of his body, and only one thought raced through his mind.
Risa.
RISA’S HEAD LIFTED at the firm knock on the door, her gaze turning to Nik as he moved from the chair, his weapon in his hands and ready as he moved for the door.
Risa drew the blanket from her shoulders as he motioned to her and moved to look into the peephole.
She sighed wearily at the sight of one of her clients.
“It’s just Mr. Banyon,” she told N.K. “I was expecting him. He’s dropping off his quarterly receipts.”
Banyon was quiet, professorish. A very distinguished gentleman who had always put her at ease.
Nik narrowed his eyes as he moved behind her. “Open the door easy. Don’t let him in.”
She disengaged the locks and opened the door a few inches.
“Mr. Banyon, I’m not really dressed—”
An explosion of light blinded her as she felt the door jerk out of her grasp, and she was thrown backward. There was no time to cry out. She felt the carpet burn across the side of her face as she was thrown into it, and then heard a thump behind.
Nik. She shook her head. He was huge. Banyon was shorter, softer. He’d never get past Nik.
She shook her head, her eyes tightly closed, as she fought the pain searing her head and tried to drag herself from the carpet.
“Easy, Miss Clay.” Banyon’s voice was cool, menacing, as she felt hard hands lifting her and placing her back on the couch. “The pain will only last for a few more seconds. Let me secure our friend here and then you and I will visit for a while.”
A whimper fell from her lips as she shook her head and fought not to throw up.
“I was really hoping your boyfriend had stayed to protect you instead,” he said as she tried to listen for his movements. “It took me a while, but I was finally able to figure it all out. Of course, Bailey Serborne helped. When this young man captured her in the back parking lot, I knew there was a bit more going on here than met the eye.”
Bailey Serborne? Who the hell was Bailey Serborne?
“I’m still amazed at the ability of your security force. I’ve only been able to spot two of them, though there must be more. This young man and your lover.” He seemed to grunt and then a thud sounded around her as the pain in her head finally began to ease.
“There we go,” he breathed out in satisfaction as she tried to blink.
Her sight was blurry and with each attempt to clear it, a spike of pain drove through the sockets.
“There now, he’s nice and trussed,” Banyon chuckled. “He’s an interesting fellow. Unlike your lover, I was unable to place his identity, but I guess the plastic surgeon took more care with his features than he did with Mr. Abijah’s. Now there is a worthy opponent. This is twice he’s nearly had me. We’re going to make certain there isn’t a third time. Aren’t we?”
She shook her head as she was finally able to open her eyes and focus on the man who had been hired to kill her.
He was unassuming, almost handsome with his beard and goatee and shaven head. His smile was comfortable, his gray eyes amused, as he glanced down at Nik’s fallen form. Banyon had a quiet, confident look to his face that had always drawn her.
God, she’d been doing accounting for six months for a man who had just been awaiting the order to kill her?
Nik was tied securely and unconscious. At least he wasn’t dead. Yet. She looked from him to the man who squatted beside him.
He was dressed to perfection, as always. A gray pin-striped suit, well pressed. Wing-tipped shoes. And he had a limp. That was why he was late bringing his accounts to her.
She glanced at his foot, then back to his face.
“Yeah, the foot is still kind of stiff,” he chuckled. “I have to give your boyfriend credit, Risa. Even half-unconscious he was still a damned good shot. Then again, Mossad agents can almost shoot straight from the grave. Damned hard bastards to kill, you know.”
She shook her head. No, she didn’t know that.
“His mother was the one death I regret.” Orion straightened and stared down at Nik with a thoughtful expression before looking back up at her. “Her name was Ariela Abijah. She was married to a CIA agent and her son was one of the best Mossad agents I’ve ever known. For a while, I guess they were friends.” He shrugged his shoulders heavily as he sat down in the easy chair and watched her. He held Nik’s gun comfortably and acted as though they were simply visiting.
The man had to be insane.
“You killed your friends?” she whispered. She wouldn’t have a chance, then.
He nodded slowly. “Ariela was beautiful. I hated taking that job, but I had no choice. One of my employers knew a bit too much information about me.” He smiled, a wide, satisfied curve to his lips. “He doesn’t any longer, though, so that rather changes the state of my employment.” He leaned forward confidently. “I’ve wanted to retire for several years and he kept calling me back.”
“Heinrick,” she guessed. “He’s your employer.”
“One of them.” He shrugged. “He’s the scientist Ariela was searching for, and the man Jansen allowed to rape you.” He shook his head at that. “In all the years I’ve killed, I’ve never raped. Masturbated to death, maybe.” He grinned at her shudder. “But I never raped.”
He was crazy. Risa could feel the icy chill of his insanity reaching across the distance between them, threatening to freeze her with its cold.
“Heinrick’s dead.” He tilted his head to the side when she said nothing more. “Does that please you?”
She licked her lips nervously. “You killed him?”
He nodded like a little boy desperate for approval. “I found the evidence he had against me. I knew if I looked hard enough, I would. He was stupid. He kept it in his home safe.” He shook his head then. “I should have thought of that, but I assumed he was more intelligent than to keep it there.”
“Why are you here?” Her voice shook. She could feel the fear, and a burning fury churning inside her. “If you killed him, why didn’t you just leave? Just retire like you wanted to do?”
His smile was amused and much too friendly. That was how he tricked her. He was able to fake a warmth and sincerity in his eyes, in his whole expression, that most people couldn’t fake.
“Because you are a liability,” he sighed. “Not that I’m worried about you seeing my face. Cosmetic enhancements are so reliable nowadays, but your boyfriend isn’t going to let this go, is he?”
“You killed his mother. You were the reason his father died, and you tried to kill him. I somehow doubt he’s going to let it go.”
“But I left his cousin living,” he sighed. “I could have killed her as well. I should have, she was CIA, another liability, but I allowed her to live.”
“You believed he was dead,” she arg
ued.
“Well, that’s true,” he admitted with a light laugh. “But still, I let her live to atone for the death of the family of Abijah. And now, he’s alive, and he still hunts me. What do you think it would take to make him stop?”
Risa shook her head. “He’ll never stop hunting you.”
He grimaced at that. “Ah well. I had hoped that by my allowing you to live, he would see the benefits in allowing me to finish my days as a retired assassin rather than prey. Oh well.” He shrugged. “If nothing will stop him, then I can complete my assignment here and retire with a clean record.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve never failed to complete an assignment, you know.”
CHAPTER 25
MICAH DIDN’T bother with the elevator when they reached the apartment building. He slammed through the door to the stairs, took them two and three at a time as the others followed behind him.
He could feel his heart pounding in his throat, fear clawing at his mind. He’d left her. He’d walked away from her when she had begged him with her eyes not to leave her. And still, he had gone.
How had Orion gotten past Nik? How could Micah have allowed this to happen?
He could feel a curious sense of disbelief and unreality filling him. He remembered racing in a similar manner for the location where his mother’s body had been. Running around pedestrians and cars, his heart in his throat, adrenaline coursing through his body alongside his fear.
He had found her dead.
He had watched his father break. Kneeling in her blood, Garren Abijah had screamed out in horror, calling out his wife’s name. Begging her to come back. Not to leave him.
Micah could feel a prayer burning in his head.
Be safe. Be safe. Ah God, keep her safe.
He pushed through the door to her floor and raced up the hall. He didn’t pause. He threw himself into the door, crashing into the room and taking in the scene in one horrified glance.
Nik was conscious and bound with chains in one of the easy chairs, facing the kitchen. He was fighting the chains, throttled yells sounding behind the gag.
His horrified gaze was locked on the kitchen entrance.
Micah could feel the blood congealing in his veins as he moved to the doorway. Behind him, the others were pouring into the room.