by Maya Banks
She yanked her head up in surprise. No one would be calling on her hotel phone. Jonah would have used her cell phone or just not called at all. They didn’t share chatty phone conversations.
Unless there was something wrong with D and Jonah couldn’t reach her on the cell?
Even as she frantically looked around the room for her cell phone, she rushed to pick up the still ringing phone on the nightstand.
“Allo?”
“Miss Berezovsky, so glad I caught you.”
The accented English grated on her nerves. It was a voice she recognized and one that sent warning bells clanging.
“What do you want?” The more obvious question would be how he knew she was here, but fuck, Eli Chance hadn’t had a problem tracking her down. There was some serious cause for concern when FMG was so predictable.
“Meet me at Chez Didier’s. There are things we should talk about.”
She made a rude noise. “Jonah already told you we weren’t interested in the job.”
“I’m not asking Jonah,” he said. “I want to talk to you. Before you refuse, let me say this. I know how to help Damiano Ruiz.”
She was stunned into silence.
“I’m offering a trade. You meet me. I tell you how to help Ruiz.”
“I’ll be there,” she said shortly. “What time?”
“Just ditch your companion and come. I’ll be there.”
The phone went dead in her ear, and she dropped the receiver. Shit, shit, shit. She ran a trembling hand over the towel on her head and jerked it away. Mad Dog would shit a brick over what she’d just agreed to.
“He can’t know,” she muttered. He’d drag her kicking and screaming back to the island and never let her off again. Hell, he’d do that anyway if he knew that Eli had found her.
She hurried for the bathroom to dry her hair. A few minutes later, she slid the room key into her pocket, retrieved her cell phone and stuffed it into the small backpack with her passport, money and the knife Mad Dog had given her.
With a sigh, she went down to meet him.
He was sitting at one of the small tables drumming his fingers impatiently on his leg. When he looked up and saw her, he flashed her a grin.
“You’re buying breakfast, by the way. You won the most last night.”
She laughed and allowed some of the tension to escape her shoulders. “I always win the most.”
He shrugged. “I ordered you an omelet the way you like it.”
She took the seat across from him and shoved her bag underneath the table. “Thanks.”
“You feeling any better yet?”
If she hadn’t got the phone call a few minutes ago, she could honestly say yes. Apparently a night of great sex was a great way to unwind. But now her nerves were fried.
So she lied and nodded.
“I need to call D,” she murmured as she pulled out her cell phone.
Mad Dog reached across the table and put his hand on her arm. “Ty, he’s okay. I talked to Jonah a few minutes ago. D’s resting so you’ll just disturb him.”
Reluctantly she put the phone down. “Sorry. But I worry about him.”
“We all do, baby.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s just that…”
Mad Dog nodded. “I do know, Ty. I do. But chasing Eli Chance all over Asia isn’t going to help D, not to mention he’d be pissed as hell if he knew what you’d done. Best just to leave it alone.”
Her cheeks grew warm, and she struggled to keep the guilt from her expression. Yeah, Mad Dog would go ballistic if she knew who had been in her hotel room.
They ate and talked about last night’s poker game. Tyana could tell he was eager to get back over and play some more. She fiddled with her food then realized her sleeping in and reluctance to eat could be in her favor.
She pushed the plate aside and slouched in her chair.
Mad Dog’s fork paused midway to his mouth. “Everything okay?”
She sighed. “I’m just tired. I don’t feel very well. Would you mind going over to the club by yourself and letting me catch some sleep?”
His gaze narrowed as he contemplated. “You sure? I can hang out here if you prefer.”
She smiled. “You know you’re dying to go play. I just want a nap. I didn’t sleep too well last night. Too hyped up from playing. I’ll catch up to you later.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
She reached down to gather her bag in her hand. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll feel better after some sleep.”
She ignored Mad Dog’s questioning stare and walked away from the table.
* * *
Tyana. The name hovered in Eli’s mind as he settled into his own hotel room just a block from the Royal. Her companion had called her Tyana. Unusual name and he’d only heard it once before. His team’s guide into Adharji, Damiano Ruiz, had mentioned a sister named Tyana.
A weary sigh escaped him as he flopped onto the bed. He needed a shower and a shave. And about twenty-four hours of sleep. Not necessarily in that order.
If the woman who’d sought him out in Singapore was Damiano’s sister, he could only come to the conclusion that she blamed Eli for his death and had revenge on her mind.
He shook his head. No, that didn’t make sense. She would have gone for his throat, not fucked him senseless then snuck through his belongings.
He dug into his pocket for his cell phone, flipped it open and punched a button. He’d fucked around long enough. It was time to figure out what the hell Tyana wanted. And how Falcon Mercenary Group played into the picture. The last thing he wanted was a damn merc group on his ass.
“Ian,” he said when the other man answered the phone. “I need some fast intel.”
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Ian growled.
Eli checked his watch and did a swift calculation. “You lazy shit, it’s only six a.m. in Argentina.”
Ian grunted. “Only? What the fuck do you want so goddamn early?”
Eli grinned. “I need whatever info you can dig up on Falcon Mercenary. And I need it fast.”
Ian was quiet for a moment. “Isn’t that who we got to…”
“Yeah, it is.”
“What’s up, Eli?”
“Don’t know yet, but I’ll let you know when I do. Give me a buzz when you have details on the group.” He paused for a moment. “How are you and Braden doing?”
Eli heard a sigh.
“We’re making it,” Ian finally said.
Eli gripped the phone tighter. “I’ll find help for you, Ian. I swear it.”
“I’m not sure you can. Let me go. I’ll get back with you as soon as I have what you need.”
Eli let the change in topic slide and quietly closed the phone. There wasn’t much he could say. There wasn’t a way for him to ever make up for what happened to Ian, Braden or Gabe.
Before, he’d lamented being the only freak of nature. An elemental shifter. An accident of birth. Something born of science fiction movies and bad action adventure flicks. But now he realized having others like him didn’t make him feel any less isolated.
While Gabe didn’t seem to have the instability issues that Ian and Braden did, he knew Gabe wasn’t any happier with his newfound abilities.
Eli was fortunate. He nearly laughed at the irony of that statement. But it was the truth. He had complete mastery of his shifts. He’d been born with the ability. His team wasn’t so lucky.
Set up on a false mission, they’d been ambushed and an unknown chemical had been unleashed on them. They’d managed to escape, but within months, Ian and Braden began to randomly shift into animals. Cats. A jaguar and a panther, while Gabe could make himself invisible.
Bizarre didn’t even begin to cover it.
In light of those developments, Eli no longer felt compelled to hide his own abilities from his teammates. With Gabe’s stability, Eli’s could be explained as well. And the truth of his past remained hidden.
Eli reached over to the nightstand an
d turned on the small GPS unit. In a moment, a small blip lit up the screen.
So, she was still in Paris. A smile crossed his face. Maybe he could arrange to run into her again. After he got more information from Ian.
* * *
Damiano stood on the deck, hands braced against the wood railing as he stared over the ocean. A cool evening breeze blowing off the water washed over his face, filled his nostrils with a salty tang.
“You okay, man?”
Damiano turned his head to see Jonah watching him from the open doorway. He eased around and leaned his butt against the wood. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Jonah ambled out holding two beers. He tossed one of the cans into the air, and Damiano caught it in one hand. Jonah popped the tab on his and came to a stop a few feet away.
Damiano studied him for a moment and opened his own beer. For once he didn’t feel edgy and out of control. For a few blissful hours he’d enjoyed a normal existence. He almost felt like his old self. He wanted to be in Paris with Ty and Mad Dog, playing poker and drinking like a fish.
His hand trembled as he held the beer to his lips.
“Today was a good day,” Jonah said.
“Yeah.”
Damiano turned back to the view of the ocean. He set the beer down on the railing. He glanced over at Jonah and voiced what was uppermost on his mind. “She went after him, didn’t she?”
Jonah’s breath came out in a hiss, but he didn’t look at Damiano. “You know me better than that, D. I’m not going to discuss what Ty may or may not have done.”
Damiano ground his teeth together in anger. “Damn it, Jonah. Don’t fuck with me. Not over this. She has no business risking herself like that. If you can’t control her then by God, I will.”
Jonah turned, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Stand down, D. Last time I checked, I was still responsible for Falcon…for this family.”
“I was responsible for Ty—and myself—way before you were. I won’t let her go down for me.”
Jonah’s anger eased, and he laid a hand on Damiano’s shoulder. “Ty cares about you, D. She’d do anything for you. Put yourself in her shoes. If she needed it, you know you’d put yourself out there, no hesitation.”
Damiano turned with a growl and grabbed Jonah’s shirt in his fist. “Tell me you haven’t gone along with some crazy scheme of hers. Damn it, Jonah, I’ll kill you for this.”
Jonah grasped Damiano’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his chest. “You go too far, brother,” he said quietly. “Do not think to question my authority. As long as I’m the head of this family, you won’t challenge me.”
Damiano stumbled back and felt the uneasy crawl of change creep over his skin. He closed his eyes and sucked in air as he tried to control the urge to change to something wild and feral. Frightening images flashed in his mind. Wild beasts. Predatory creatures. A low snarl escaped him.
Strong arms surrounded him, hauled him toward the door. “Focus, D. Don’t leave me. Hang on. Don’t give in.”
A few minutes later, he felt the prick of a needle and warm oblivion seeped into his veins. The fiery itch eased, and the urge to claw at his skin in an effort to free the predator inside abated.
“Listen to me,” Jonah said close to his ear. “You insult me by suggesting I’d ever let Ty place herself in harm’s way. She won’t be going after Eli Chance. If I have to tie her down and drug her ass, I’ll do it. Your only concentration needs to be on defeating this thing that has you in its grip. Do it for yourself and for those of us who love you.”
“I won’t…let her sacrifice…herself…for me.”
“Neither will I. Now sleep, D. You need your strength.”
Chapter Six
Tyana scanned the occupants of the outdoor café until her gaze alighted on her target. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips formed a tight line as she strode toward the table on the far end of the patio.
Two bodyguards stood on either side of the man, and Tyana sneered as she approached.
“Not exactly subtle, are you?” she said as she slid into the chair opposite the man who had phoned her.
He flashed her a sleazy grin and raised his hand to snap his fingers. Pete and Repeat slunk away and stood at a distance.
“Take off the sunglasses,” she directed. “I like to see who I’m speaking to.”
He paused for a moment before he slowly raised his hand to remove the expensive shades. Dark, soulless eyes stared back at her, and she resisted the urge to shiver.
“So glad you could make it, Miss Berezovsky.”
“You have me at a disadvantage,” she said sweetly. “We were never introduced.”
“Esteban Morales. You may call me Esteban.”
“I may call you asshole,” she muttered.
He laughed and sat back in his chair. “You’re fortunate I have a sense of humor, my dear. Another man might not be so tolerant of your snideness.”
She made a show of checking her watch. “Look, can we get on with this?”
“By all means,” he said smoothly.
She leaned forward. “How the hell do you know anything about Damiano Ruiz?”
His eyes glittered with amusement. “Ah, your shifter friend. Not doing well, is he?”
“How do you know anything about him or how he’s doing?”
His teeth flashed again in a smirk. “Because my company engineered the chemical that made him into what he is.”
Tyana exploded across the table, her hands wrapping in the collar of his shirt as she yanked him toward her. “You son of a bitch!”
“Get your hands off me at once,” he said calmly. “Or I’ll have my friends give you a few lessons in manners.”
“Fuck you and your friends,” she snarled.
“Remove yourself or I don’t give you the information you need.”
She slowly uncurled her fingers from his shirt. Then she shoved him back in his seat before retaking her own.
“Talk and make it fast.”
He chuckled. “Quite demanding aren’t you? You see, Miss Berezovsky, I hold all the cards. If I were you, I’d be very nice. And exercise some restraint.”
She sucked in a breath through her nose and blew it out around tightly clenched teeth.
“There, much better. Now, I have something you want, and you have skills that I want to utilize. I see no reason we can’t come to an agreement.”
“What do you want?”
“Ian and Braden Thomas. Dead or alive. Preferably dead. They’re a liability. Eli Chance, on the other hand, I’d like alive. If he dies, the deal is off.”
She studied the worm closely. He was adamant about Eli Chance. As adamant as she was about Eli. Which left the question why? What did Esteban want with them?
“In return,” he continued, “I’ll give you what you want most.”
“And what is that?” she drawled.
“A cure for your brother.”
She sucked in her breath. Was the bastard telling the truth?
“I own the largest pharmaceutical corporation in Europe. In the last few years, I’ve branched into other interests. I find human experimentation rather fascinating. I wanted strong men. Warriors. The Covert Hostage Recovery team fit the bill. Your brother was just an unfortunate victim. Wrong place, wrong time. I’m willing to rectify that mistake if you give me what I want in return.”
“Why do you want Ian and Braden Thomas dead and Eli Chance alive?” she asked bluntly.
His eyes flickered. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Miss Berezovsky. Either you take the job and help your brother, or he’ll be added to my termination list of failed experiments. He’ll be hunted down like the others.”
She surged to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. “Fuck you. You’ll have to come through me, and I swear to God, you come after Damiano and I’ll hunt you down, cut off your balls and shove them down your throat. You’ll choke to death on your own dick.”
His laughter carried, causing people to stop and
turn their way. “Do sit down, Miss Berezovsky. You’re causing a scene.”
“I’ve had enough of this.” She turned to leave, but he stood and reached across the table to snag her wrist. His fingers bit painfully into her skin. She moved to strike, but he thrust a business card at her with his other hand.
“In case you change your mind.”
She snatched the card from him and stalked away, fury igniting her steps. Rage billowed and rolled through her body. Angry tears burned her eyelids as she strode back to her hotel.
She wanted to hit something. Make something bleed. What she really wanted to do was go back and pound fucking Esteban into the pavement. Arrogant, slimy asshole. Who the fuck gave him the right to play God? Because of him, D was fighting a losing battle. How much longer could he possibly hold out until he lost all vestige of humanity?
A woman leaving the hotel bumped into Tyana and proceeded to dress her down in French.
“Va te faire foutre,” Tyana muttered. The woman’s eyes grew round, and she walked away, grumbling about arrogant Americans.
“Va t’empaler encule,” Tyana called after her. “And I’m not American!” She turned and shoved her way by more people exiting the hotel.
She jammed her thumb over the elevator button and twitched with impatience as she waited for it to arrive. Her head pounded like someone had taken a jackhammer to it, and damn she needed a drink.
Bastard. Fils de pute. Fickakopf.
As she entered the elevator and the doors closed behind her, she rammed her fist into the back wall, shaking the car as it rose.
She muttered expletives in six other languages before the doors opened on her floor. Upon arriving at her door, she dug into her pocket for her room key and jammed it into the slot. In her agitation it took three attempts before she could get it open.
Finally the light turned green, and she yanked at the handle. She shouldered her way in and slid her bag from her shoulder, ready to toss it across the room. She came up short when she saw Mad Dog slouched in the chair by the window, his eyes stormy.
“Fick mich,” she whispered.