by Lori Sjoberg
“I would have used Elena,” Gwen blurted out, and the words were like ice water over his libido. Eyes wide, she rubbed her arms with her hands. “She’d said she was willing to talk to you, but Williams refused to allow it.”
“What a pity,” Dmitri said, his tone tightly clipped. With considerable effort, he kept his hands from balling into fists. “I would have relished the opportunity to strangle the life from her body.”
Gwen’s jaw dropped open. “But she loved you. She wanted a future for you both, here in the States.”
The very idea flooded him with bitterness. “Yeah, right. If she loved me that much, she would have talked to me before committing treason.”
“She was scared. She—she had her reasons.”
“Like what?”
Gwen shook her head, her lips pressed so tightly together they turned white. “I can’t. She swore me to secrecy.”
“She’s probably dead by now.”
“Then her secret died along with her.”
Stubborn woman. He should have expected as much. “Then we have nothing further to discuss.” He rolled out of bed and grabbed his bag. Without so much as a backward glance, he stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Chapter 8
Fresh from the shower, Dmitri was tucking his shirt into his jeans when he heard a loud rumble outside.
He crossed the room and pulled back the curtain in time to see a large black pickup with dual wheels on the rear axle stop in front of their building. A heavy steel bumper protected the grill, making it look like something out of a Mad Max movie. After backing into the space beside Dmitri’s Challenger, the truck’s engine cut off and Adam Javorski stepped out of the cab, bleary-eyed, unshaven, and looking thoroughly put out. With a yawn, he dragged a hand through his close-cropped, dark brown hair. He hooked his sunglasses to the collar of his T-shirt as he strode toward the building.
“About time you got here,” Dmitri said when he opened the door. “Did you bring my bag?”
“It’s in the storage box.” With a scowl, Adam brushed past Dmitri and stepped inside the room. Even though he’d been a reaper for a little more than two years, Adam was one of the most reliable members of Dmitri’s unit. Regardless of the situation, he kept his shit together and always got the job done. It almost made up for the attitude. “You mind telling me why I had to drop everything and drive nonstop to Bum Fuck, Virginia—”
The words died on his lips when he caught sight of Gwen, barefoot, hair tousled, and still wearing the short shorts and clingy tank top she’d slept in.
“Hi, you must be Adam.” She rose from sitting at the foot of the bed and walked toward him with her arm outstretched. “I’m Gwen.”
Adam accepted the hand she offered, a lazy grin splitting his face. “Pleased to meet you. If I’d known the boss had company, I would have stopped to pick up breakfast.”
“Oh, Christ,” Dmitri grumbled. “You’re here to do a job, not fraternize.”
“Don’t mind him,” Gwen said. “He’s cranky in the morning.”
“He’s cranky all the time.”
“I am not cranky.”
Adam snorted. “Dude, cranky is your middle name.”
“Actually,” Gwen said, “his middle name is Alexandrovich.”
Dmitri’s face flushed with heat.
“Really? Is that true?” Adam’s head whipped in Gwen’s direction. “How do you know that?”
She flashed him a toothy smile. “I know lots of things.”
Now Adam appeared outright intrigued. “What else do you know about Mr. Cranky?”
“Nothing important,” Dmitri ground out, his patience fraying.
“If she knows your middle name, Dmitri Alexandrovich, she damn well knows something important.” His gaze flicked back to Gwen. “Come on, just a little something I can share with the group back home. He never tells us anything personal. I’ve got cash.”
“You’ll be missing teeth if you keep it up,” Dmitri growled.
Adam opened his mouth as if to speak but closed it without saying anything.
“Thank you.” Dmitri bit the words out.
“Can you at least explain why I’m here?”
Gladly, so long as it changed the subject. “I need you to take my car back to Orlando. There’s a reaper in the trunk by the name of Tommy Cooper. He’s dangerous, so make sure he remains tied and gagged at all times. Tag Martin or Ruby if you need help. Keep him on ice at my place until I call. If you don’t hear from me in three days’ time, call David and tell him what happened. He’ll know what to do.”
He hated the idea of anyone else driving his car, but the truck bed didn’t have any kind of cover and couldn’t be used to transport Cooper. As long as the kid didn’t get pulled over for the broken taillight or for speeding, he’d make it back to Florida in the car without incident.
A shadow fell over Adam’s face. He was a damn good reaper, but the former cop in him disliked committing felonies in the name of his new calling. “And why am I doing all this?”
“Long story.”
Adam turned to Gwen.
“Hey, don’t look at me,” she said. “Samuel wants this kept quiet. The less you know, the more soundly you’ll sleep.”
“Great.” Adam jammed his hands in his pockets. “Is there gas in the car?”
“Full tank.” He’d topped it off the night before.
“Well, at least there’s that. Do I get breakfast before I leave? I’m starving.”
Dmitri said, “No,” at the same time Gwen said, “Sure.”
“Oh come on,” she said to Dmitri. “The poor guy just drove twelve hours straight. He needs to eat before he gets back on the road.”
Dmitri glared at Adam. Adam grinned right back at him. “Fine,” Dmitri grumbled. “I’ll buy you something to eat.”
“Buford too. It’s way past his feeding time.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. “You brought the mutt?”
“What was I supposed to do with him? Ruby was working a job last night, and no one else was willing to dog-sit.”
Shit. That meant the fleabag would be shedding and drooling all over his upholstery. “Fine, the dog can eat too.”
“Sweet!” Adam opened the door and whistled, and the enormous pit bull mix leaped through the open passenger side window of the truck. The dog christened the bushes before barreling into the room, where he made a beeline for Gwen.
She yelped when the sack of fur and fleas shoved his nose in her crotch. Dmitri smiled. Served her right for agreeing to feed Adam and the mutt.
“Nice dog,” she said as she pushed Buford’s big square head away. Undeterred, the dog made a second attempt, but she blocked him with her knee. “Why don’t I take a quick shower while you two catch up?” She grabbed her duffel bag, retreated into the bathroom, and closed the door behind her.
“She’s hot,” Adam said after the shower cut on. His gaze roamed about the room before settling on the rumpled bed. “Sorry to interrupt your fun.”
Dmitri stiffened. “We’re working a job together. Nothing more.”
“You’re sharing a room, and you never thought about tapping that? Not even once?” Adam laughed as he leaned down to give Buford a pat. The dog rubbed his head against Adam’s jeans, leaving a trail of slobber behind. “Either you’re lying through your fucking teeth, or you’ve officially lost your mind.”
“Think what you want. Our relationship is … complicated. And strictly professional.”
“Definitely out of your mind.” Adam shook his head in obvious disbelief.
Dmitri flexed his hands and counted to ten. He wasn’t in the mood to put up with this shit, not from his subordinate and especially not this early in the morning. “Drop it.”
“Fine, fine. Have it your way.” Adam rolled his eyes as he dug his keys from his pocket and tossed them to Dmitri. “Why don’t you get us some breakfast, and then we’ll talk about whatever the hell you want, okay?”
Five minutes
later, Gwen shut off the water in the shower. Quickly, she toweled her body dry, slipped on jeans and a forest green T-shirt, and stepped out of the bathroom.
Dmitri wasn’t anywhere in sight. Adam was sitting on the floor in front of the television, speed-flipping channels with the remote. He had the long, lean build of a guy who either ran or played a lot of basketball. His hair and lashes were as dark as his eyes and framed a boyishly handsome face. The dog lay stretched out by his side, a puddle of drool soaking the carpet.
“The big guy’s out getting breakfast,” Adam said, his focus never leaving the television. “He should be back in a few.”
“Sounds good.” She brushed her hair, brushed her teeth, and then sat on the edge of the bed to put on her socks and shoes.
It was a relief to have a few more minutes to collect her thoughts before Dmitri returned. Talking about what happened at the Pit was hard enough under normal circumstances. But to talk about it in bed? With him lying beside her? Surreal.
Even more unnerving was the look on his face, the heat in his eyes, and the deep, husky resonance in his voice. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he’d been thinking about kissing her. But what freaked her out the most was that a part of her wished he had.
She’d lied to him about her reasons for attending the interrogations. The first time she watched Williams work Dmitri over, she’d nearly gotten physically ill. To this day, she couldn’t fathom how one human being could inflict such torment on another. She’d talked to Williams about the level of brutality, but the bastard just laughed at her and called her naïve. And since Williams played poker with General Richter every Friday, she knew it was pointless to complain. So instead she did the only thing within her power; she paid penance by bearing witness to his suffering.
“So how long have you two known each other?” Adam asked, breaking her train of thought.
Gwen hesitated, not sure how much she should tell him. “We’ve known each other for a while, but it’s been a long time since we last worked together.”
“How long is a while?”
“A little over fifty years.”
Adam’s eyes popped wide. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
He let out a low whistle. “Were you two ever an item?”
The very idea made her pulse jump. “You haven’t been a reaper for very long, have you?”
“Two years, one month, and fourteen days. Why, does it show?”
She nodded. “Dmitri and I are about as far from an item as two people can possibly get.”
His dark brows wrinkled. “How so?”
She considered skirting the issue, but what was the point? Their history wasn’t exactly a secret among their kind, and if he asked around, someone would eventually fill in the blanks. “I’ll tell you, but only if you promise not to say anything to Dmitri about it until this job is over and I’m long gone. Deal?”
“I promise. Scout’s honor.”
“Were you ever a scout?”
“No, but I used to be a cop.” He grinned. “Close enough?”
She couldn’t help but smile. The kid’s carefree attitude was infectious. “Yeah, that’ll work.” Finished with her shoes, she bent down to pet Buford, and the dog’s stubby tail wriggled with delight. “How much do you know about Dmitri’s mortal life?”
“Not much. My mentor said he played James Bond for the Soviets.”
“Your mentor was right. And I played Bond for the Americans.”
Adam shot her a skeptical look. “Now you’re just screwing with me.”
She got that reaction a lot, probably because she wasn’t tall, or glamorous, or built like a Bond girl. But being a good agent meant more than just looks, and her ability to blend had been an integral part of what made her successful.
Gwen drew an X over her chest with her finger. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m telling you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
The oath seemed to convince him, because now he looked a little impressed. “So the two of you were enemies?”
“We were, are, and probably will be until the day we’ve redeemed our souls.” That never used to bother her before, but now it tugged at something deep inside.
Adam twisted his torso toward her and propped one arm against the edge of the bed. With his free hand, he scratched Buford’s belly, and the dog’s hind leg thumped against the carpet. “Don’t you think it’s time to bury the hatchet? The Cold War ended a long time ago. Besides, you’re working on the same team now.”
“True, but some wounds are too deep to heal.” And some sins are too heinous to be forgiven.
“Like what?”
Gwen shook her head as she pushed back against the flood of memories. “Sorry, not going there.” Stomach rumbling, she walked to the window, pulled back the curtain, and peered out at the lot. Still no sign of Dmitri. What was taking him so long? She’d burned a lot of calories recovering from last night’s gunshot wound, leaving her absolutely famished. If he didn’t come back soon, she’d hit the vending machine down the hall. “Ask him if you really want to know, but not while I’m around.”
“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.”
“Wanna bet?” She folded her arms across her chest and met his curious gaze. “Tell me, do you enjoy sharing the details of your own death?”
He didn’t answer, but his expression sobered.
“I didn’t think so. Same goes here.”
The heavy rumble of a truck’s engine cut short their conversation. Gwen opened the door and watched Dmitri steer the big black pickup into a parking spot in front of their room. The engine shut off, and he got out of the cab carrying two large plastic bags and a tray filled with coffee cups.
Her stomach fluttered, and she told herself it was because she was famished. Turning back to Adam, she gave him her best don’t-mess-with-me look. “Remember what I told you. Not a word until this is all over.”
Adam drove away in the Challenger a little after nine, leaving Gwen and Dmitri free to plan their next move.
“Think he’ll be okay with Cooper?” Gwen asked as she climbed into the passenger side of the pickup. The outside of the truck was filthy with road grime, and the inside wasn’t much better. Dog drool covered the passenger side window, while the seats were coated in hair. Shifting in her seat, she fastened her seat belt and pulled down the visor to block the glare of the morning sun.
“He’s a professional,” Dmitri snarled. “He’ll do what needs to be done.” With a turn of the key, the truck roared to life, and he peeled out onto the main road.
He’d been surly all morning, more so than usual. Part of it was because it damn near killed him to switch vehicles with Adam. But she suspected it also had something to do with their earlier discussion. In all honesty, it had left her edgy as well. She hated talking about her own death, especially with the man who’d caused it.
The difference was that she’d never blamed him. How could she? He’d been trained to kill and was one of the most lethal KGB agents of his time. His actions were merely an extension of his nature. It would be like holding a grudge against a lion for killing a zebra.
Besides, her own actions had been within her nature as well. Coughing up blood, she’d crawled across the tiles until she reached Jimmy Hanson’s dead body. With the last of her strength she’d picked up his revolver, aimed, and fired at Dmitri. Triumph had filled her when the bullet hit its target, and she watched him fall to the floor.
Imagine her surprise when she rose as a reaper and found her enemy was now her associate.
Still, there were days when she mourned the loss of her humanity. Consumed with the mission to keep America safe, she’d sacrificed her own needs, her body. Her life. She’d never found true love, never married or had children. She’d given it all up for an eight-year career that ended with a shot to the chest.
Tearing her thoughts away from the past, she stared at the passing scenery. Aside from a Target they’d passed about
ten miles ago, the landscape had a small-town feel. There was a unique blend of old and new, with clusters of tidy middle-class homes surrounding a thriving downtown district. An old Catholic church stood sentinel at a busy street corner alongside a coffee shop and a Salvation Army thrift store.
“Where are we, and where are we going?” she asked.
“Caroline County, Virginia, and we’re going to the public library.” He eased into the left turn lane and pulled into a small parking lot. “We can use their computers to search for the artifact.”
“Good thinking.” She hadn’t bothered to pack her laptop for the trip, and her eyes were getting strained from using her phone for online searches. If they secured the relic they could thwart Patrick’s plans. They could also use it as bait for a trap for the rogue reaper and his growing number of followers.
After parking the truck, they walked inside and got visitors’ passes to use the computers. “Let me know if you find anything useful,” Dmitri said as he typed on the keyboard.
Eyes glued to the monitor, she hopped from database to database in search of information about ancient artifacts. After an hour of digging, she found nothing about the stone, and her spirits began to sink.
Dmitri seemed to be having much more success, scratching notes on a pad of paper every few minutes until the page was completely filled. He flipped the page and started scribbling on a clean one, his handwriting so messy she couldn’t tell what language he was writing in.
“What is that?” She gestured toward his notes.
His gaze slanted in her direction for a moment before returning to the computer screen. “Contacts who might know the artifact’s location. I’ll call them after we’re done here.”
Ignoring the strain in her eyes, Gwen turned back to her own computer. She changed keywords and ran another round of searches. Nothing. Frustration seeped into her veins when Dmitri turned another page, his pen scratching furiously against the paper. Finally, just as she thought about giving up, she hit pay dirt.