by Mari Carr
Walt came on the next rough thrust, groaning because it felt so fucking good it hurt. He filled her with jet after jet of come.
Annalise lowered her head as her climax began to wane. It only took a few seconds more before Jakob came as well, holding Annalise’s head as she swallowed every drop.
The room was quiet except for the harsh inhale and exhale of breath, all three of them struggling for air.
Walt felt a drop of sweat slide along the side of his face, and for the first time, he was aware of just how hot the room had gotten.
Annalise released Jakob’s dick, placing her cheek on Jakob’s stomach, even as her ass was still raised, still holding Walt’s softening dick. He pulled out slowly, the action prompting her to open sex-dazed eyes and look at him.
“I love you,” she whispered as she stared at him, then she turned to look at Jakob as well.
Just three words. Spoken for all of them.
Neither he nor Jakob said them back. They didn’t need to. There was no question they felt the exact same way.
And it was then it occurred to Walt that while he could mend broken bodies, he didn’t have a clue how to fix a broken heart.
And his was about to be shattered.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jakob stood with his back to the wall, outwardly silent, while inwardly snarling.
There were way too many damned people in the room.
When Nikolett’s house was finished, this room would be a combination home office and off-site backup for the Hungary territory headquarters. Large as both the house and this room were, right now, it was crowded.
When he, Walt, and Annalise had arrived half an hour ago, the Hungary territory leadership had just been finishing up an early morning meeting. Attendees included Admiral Varda, Vice Admiral Kata, the security minister Dimitri, plus the three finance ministers, four knights—including Maxim, and three security officers. Vadisk hadn’t been at the meeting because he’d been the one to pick them up at the hotel and escort them back here.
Nikolett had acknowledged them with a nod when they walked in. A few others had looked their way, but no one seemed surprised by their presence or confused as to who they were. That meant at least part of the meeting had included briefing the people he, Walt, and Annalise hadn’t met before as to who they were and how they were involved.
Nikolett finished speaking to the assembled members of her territory in Hungarian for several minutes before dismissing people. About a third of the room cleared out, and before they were even out the front door—which was steel set in steel-reinforced surrounds like the door of a bank vault—the remaining knights and security officers had taken positions near the doors and just behind the admiral.
All this security to keep danger out, when danger was already inside.
Nikolett motioned Annalise forward. His love spoke with Nikolett and Nyx for several minutes.
His love.
After all these years, Annalise was his love. But not for much longer.
Because life fucking sucked. Maybe they could have an intense, carnal affair when they got back to Frankfurt. He would fuck her on the bed he’d bought for her, in the room he’d decorated for her.
Nope. Wouldn’t work. Because Walt couldn’t stay there for long, couldn’t live there with them. Hell, the two of them couldn’t even remain there together forever.
Irritated, Jakob crossed his arms, keeping his attention on Annalise. His arm immediately protested, and that just increased his irritation. Dropping his bad arm with a grunt, he considered telling everyone in the room to fuck off. All these people wanted Annalise to go lock herself in a room with a bat-shit crazy woman who hacked people up both professionally and for fun.
Walt’s hand landed on Jakob’s shoulder. “I would feel better if you’d use the sling.”
He wasn’t going to use a damn sling. A little stab never hurt…actually it hurt quite a fucking bit. But still, if he needed to fight to protect Walt and Annalise, the sling would be in the way. The odds weren’t good if they had to fight their way out of here, even if he hadn’t had one arm that had recently been used as a knife block.
Out loud he said, “No.”
Walt laughed silently, a little huff of sound.
Annalise nodded in response to what Nyx was saying, then turned to face the room. Nikolett and Nyx both stepped back to give her the floor.
“Everyone here speaks English?” Annalise asked in her professor voice, a file folder in hand.
All but one of the people in the room nodded, and Vadisk moved to stand by him, promising to translate.
“Your admiral has asked me to brief everyone as to what we know so far.”
Annalise looked at Jakob, and his stupid, stupid heart fluttered in his chest.
“This includes some new information pieced together thanks to the work of several of the people in this room.”
A few of the security officers and knights Jakob didn’t know nodded. Oh. That was why she’d looked at him. She was about to say something new. He was an idiot. An idiot in love with a woman he couldn’t handle when it was just the two of them, and a man whose life and future was an ocean away.
Annalise glanced down at the paper in her hand and began to summarize the information on the page.
“Ava Chapman was born in Devon, England. When she was a child, her father joined and eventually became a priest in a strict, devout Anglican church. Shortly after, he moved his family, including a four-year-old Ava, to Mozambique where he set up a small mission, focused strictly on conversion. In particular, they were focused on members of the Catholic and amaZioni churches, which were the two primary houses of worship in the township where her father opened his mission.
“Relatively little is known about what exactly happened over the course of the six years that the Chapman family lived there. This may be due to the records having been deleted, as were most of Ava’s records beyond her birth certificate, or it could be due to the fact that the mission wasn’t affiliated with any international faith-based aid groups. Either way, based on the outcome, I think it would be safe to say there was a divisive relationship between the English family and the community.”
Everyone was listening intently, and Jakob realized he was seeing the pre-stalker Annalise. He’d never loved her more.
She continued speaking. “Thanks to Maxim, who found recently digitized copies of a local paper, we know that when Ava was ten, the mission was attacked. Five people were killed—three locals, as well as Ava’s father and mother. The article mentions that they were beheaded and then dismembered.”
“She saw it happen,” Vadisk said after translating for the man beside him.
“Based on her statements, yes. Her mother was raped, and had limbs removed, prior to her death. Again, Ava saw this. I am not going to offer a diagnosis, as I haven’t done a diagnostic interview with her, but given what we know, I believe she has been recreating her mother’s death, in what is not an act of rage, but one of mercy.”
“She’s mercy killing and torturing people?” Walt asked incredulously.
“Not mercy killing in the sense of euthanasia, but as a release.” Annalise paused to think. “Perhaps a better way to phrase it would be exactly that. She believed she was releasing or freeing women who, like her mother, have what she calls ‘moral fortitude’. Her victims are selected based on what she describes as a visible halo.”
Jakob felt the first stirrings of pity for Ava. It didn’t excuse what she’d done. The woman was undeniably nuts and needed to be—at the very least—locked up for life. Jakob had seen plenty of death in his time before becoming a knight. Death that came without trials, judgment rendered and execution carried out in darkness. When he became a knight, he walked away from that mindset, though clearly not the skillset, as evidenced by Axel’s death.
As a Ritter, enforcing their laws and carrying out any punishments was his duty, but he acted in response to laws and at the direction of his admiral and vice admi
ral.
Despite all that, there was a part of him, a remnant of who he had been, who wanted to walk into that safe room and snap Ava’s neck.
“She was torturing Zasha,” Maxim said softly.
“Yes, and there is no doubt that her other victims also suffered prior to death, but her actions were not rooted in a desire to cause them pain. I don’t believe there is a sexual sadism fulfillment element to her action, despite the fact that she is raping the women using, based on what was found in Odessa, homemade wooden phalluses.”
Everyone took a minute to process that horrific detail. Annalise cleared her throat and continued.
“Though her records and information are missing from most major databases, by searching lower-level—provincial, parish, individual academic institution—records, some of her life has been pieced together. Several years after the death of her parents, she was brought back to England where she became a ward of the court until the age of eighteen. I suspect she suffered some abuse, most likely in those years between when her parents died and before she returned to England.”
A ten-year-old suddenly orphaned in a small town where her parents had been hated and she was an outsider in every possible way. Yeah, some really bad shit could have happened.
“Though,” Annalise went on, “it is possible the abuse came from one or both parents. She attended medical school in Brazil—we can and should assume she speaks fluent Portuguese.”
“How did she get from being an orphan with nothing to medical school?” someone asked.
Annalise nodded slowly. “That is an important question to which we don’t have the answer. It is one of the things I may ask her in today’s interrogation.”
“Do you think the traitor Petro was helping her back then?”
Jakob noticed Nyx stiffened a little, only to relax when Grigoris wrapped an arm around her, leaning in to whisper in her ear. Nikolett glanced at the couple, and then quickly looked away.
“It is possible, given what we know of the timeline,” Annalise replied. “But it would mean that Ava was one of Petro’s first—”
“Pets.” The word echoed with menace, the speaker’s tone quiet but full of rage.
Around the room, men and women jumped to their feet, weapons appearing in their hands—everything from swords to small guns. Maxim and Grigoris had stepped in front of Nyx, Annalise, and Nikolett, protecting them from the speaker who filled the open doorway into the large office.
Walt propped one elbow on Jakob’s good shoulder and raised the other hand in a little wave. “Heya, Eric.”
Halt deinen Mund, Jakob thought, wishing Walt knew when to shut his mouth.
Out loud, Jakob muttered. “Mist.”
“Fleet Admiral.” Grigoris was the first to speak. From the way some people jerked in reaction, not everyone had recognized the massive blond man on sight.
Eric was wearing snow camo, the jacket unzipped to reveal a white T-shirt that was ripped in several places, but not bloody. In the doorway behind him, one of the security officers was grimacing and cradling his ribs.
Nikolett stepped out from behind Maxim and Grigoris, her eyes narrowed. “How did you get in here?”
“Where’s the psycho?” Eric countered.
“My security—”
“Is pretty good. I’m better.” Eric flashed a toothy smile at the Hungary admiral and Nikolett seemed to visibly swell with outrage.
“I will need a detailed accounting as to how you got in here. Wait, did you harm any of my people?” Nikolett’s words were sharp, forceful.
Eric’s smile melted away, and he took a step into the room, toward Nikolett. “He’ll be fine, and I wouldn’t harm any of my people.”
“Make no mistake, Fleet Admiral, these are also my people.” Nikolett paused, seemed to collect herself, and then smiled coolly. “We will come back to the issue of your breaking and entering—”
“No. You’re going to tell me where—”
“But first—”
“—so I can—”
“—thank you for accepting my gracious invitation.”
Though they’d been talking over one another, Nikolett’s last statement made Eric’s teeth click together. He took a second, glaring down at her.
“Your invitation?” he snorted, shaking his head dismissively.
She arched a brow. “Of course. You think it was a coincidence that you heard I was coordinating the investigation you went walkabout for? I made sure word would reach you.”
Eric’s face went blank with either surprise or shock. Then his eyes narrowed. All the hair on the back of Jakob’s neck stood on end. Around the room, those who had lowered their weapons when they realized who Eric was adjusted their grips.
If the fleet admiral attacked a territory admiral, where would loyalties lie? Jakob was very glad it wasn’t Dolph antagonizing the fleet admiral.
“While I understand grief can make people do illogical things, the Masters’ Admiralty needs you, so hopefully bringing Josephine’s killer to justice will ensure that you start performing your duties once more,” Nikolett continued.
“Talk about poking the bear,” Walt murmured low enough that only Jakob could hear.
Eric took another step, looming over Nikolett, who had to tilt her head back to stare up at him. When he took another half step, fully invading her personal space, Nikolett raised her hand, planted one finger in the center of Eric’s chest, and pushed.
“Back. Up.”
Eric scooted back maybe ten centimeters, no farther. “You and I need to have a private conversation, Admiral.” His voice rumbled, his tone so low Jakob almost couldn’t hear it.
Annalise was watching them with what appeared to be clinical fascination. Nyx had one eyebrow raised. Vadisk’s face was drawn in a grimace. He’d inched closer to Eric and Nikolett, so he and Maxim were about equidistant from them. If it came to a fight, either Maxim or Vadisk looked like they were ready to step into Eric’s path. Maybe together they’d be able to take the fleet admiral…
“I look forward to our private conversation, Fleet Admiral. There are some things I’d like to say to you also.”
“Watch your tone,” Eric rumbled in warning.
“There is nothing wrong with my tone.” Nikolett smiled, and it was a sharp, dangerous expression. “I’d suggest you watch yours. You’re a guest in my house.” Before Eric could respond, Nikolett turned her back to him, focusing on Annalise. “Dr. Fischer, please finish the briefing.”
Everyone was looking at Eric, who was staring at the back of Nikolett’s head with an expression somewhere between shock, irritation, and maybe admiration.
Walt leaned in. “Wanna bet on whether they fuck or kill each other?”
Jakob snorted—quietly—before saying, “Both.”
Walt’s laughter broke the tension in the room, even if it meant they got some uncomfortably intense looks.
Annalise stepped out from behind Grigoris, shooting a quick smile their way before clearing her throat and facing the room at large.
“Today’s interrogation is going to be focused on getting names and locations of any of her other victims. Given that she watches them for quite some time in order to plan the abduction, the maximum number of victims is most likely three per year. If possible, I’ll try to fill in some of those gaps, including asking her how she met Petro,” Annalise very carefully didn’t look at Eric, “whom she knew as Melech.” Annalise turned and looked at Grigoris. “If you could bring up the video?”
They waited while a large built-in cabinet was opened, revealing a bank of monitors with a massive screen in the center. A second later, the video feed from the safe room was brought up. Ava was curled on an air mattress under a blanket. She looked small and soft in her sleep.
“There are some other details I’m going to question her on, specifically, how she approaches the victims, and how she is able to transport them from one location to another. From the information we have from Zasha, we know some of this, so
it will be a test to see if she’s answering me honestly. Are there any questions or suggestions before I start?”
Jakob stopped listening as people peppered Annalise with comments. He was looking at Eric.
The fleet admiral was staring at the screen, his face blank. Little by little, his expression started to shift. First, his jaw clenched so hard the muscle in his cheek was visible. His hands curled into fists, his shoulder and arm muscles seeming to swell.
When Annalise left the room, accompanied by Vadisk, the fleet admiral was still staring at the screen.
Jakob wasn’t the only one eyeing the fleet admiral. He wondered if anyone else had the feeling that Eric was like a kettle coming up to boil, the heat—his anger—increasing with each second that passed. He almost said something to Walt, but held his tongue. It was one thing to start talking more in front of other people, another to say something ridiculous and fanciful about emotions being like kettles in front of strangers.
On the monitor, they saw Vadisk and Annalise walk into the room. Annalise helped her get up, then the three of them left—taking Ava to the bathroom—returning ten minutes later. While they were off screen, Eric seemed to calm a bit.
Once back in the room, Annalise handed the other woman a breakfast bar and some water, chatting quietly all the while, her voice calm and steady through the small concealed mic and earpiece she wore.
“I’d like to know more about what you do,” Annalise said. “Orthopedic surgeon. You fix broken bones?”
Everyone settled into place either in chairs or leaning against the walls. The man who’d been in the hall was holding an ice pack to his ribs. The room had the air of people prepared to wait and watch.
The Fleet Admiral’s next words changed that.
“She killed Josephine.” Eric’s low snarl brought everyone to their feet. “She raped her, murdered her, and then left her head in a fucking basket.”
He turned to the door and managed four purposeful strides before someone jumped into his path.
The only one insane enough to do something that stupid was Nikolett.