But Alexei Rustanov was a whole ‘nother story. And as a result, Knud had been forced to do a whole lot of shit he vowed he’d never do.
Like ask Rafes for help. When the reports about Layla Rustanov being successfully brought out of her medically induced coma started rolling in, Knud had gone to his brother on his proverbial knees. And then had to put up with about an hour’s worth of “I told you so’s” while chanting Layla’s name in his head to keep himself from wolfing out or launching himself at Rafes’ throat. Then, in order to get Rafes to put in a call to the sitting president, he had to promise to come running whenever his brother called for an entire year.
That should have been more than enough.
But even Rafes hadn’t been able to convince the current president of the United States to call Eva Rustanov on Knud’s behalf. It probably didn’t help that Knud hadn’t officially existed on record since…oh, the age of 19 when he was recruited into his first black ops gig by the U.S. Marines. And the bits and pieces of highly classified information about Knud that the president had access to did not paint a pretty picture. Because he’d done things that even his five years as a pediatric surgeon couldn’t undo. In short, he wasn’t the kind of guy you’d happily agree to introduce to the powerful parents of a woman who people, including Knud’s older brother, still referred to as America’s Favorite First Daughter.
So, Knud wasn’t surprised when Rafes received a polite but swift “hell no” from the Oval Office. Which meant, heavy sigh, asking his brother for even more help.
Finally, between Rafes and their other triplet, Nago, Knud managed to gain access to a floor plan for the compound. Then he resolutely pored over the details about the multiple renovations—not to mention a shitload of old internet articles—in order to figure out which room belonged to Layla.
After monitoring the Texas compound for days to identify all the guards, Knud compiled a dossier on each member of the security personnel to see if any were having, say, financial difficulties he could leverage to gain access to the house.
But it turned out Alexei Rustanov paid his guards well, and only a very few were allowed anywhere near his wife and children. Those individuals were extensively vetted and only permitted to join the family’s security rotation after at least a year of service. Then they were revetted every month and if they had so much as a missed credit card payment, they were pulled from the family’s team.
Layla’s father was thorough and smart, and he’d made it impossible for anyone he hadn’t thoroughly vetted to get anywhere near his daughter.
Knud imagined Rustanov was even more paranoid now than he had been before Layla’s accident. After all, for the first time ever her father had inexplicably relaxed his guard and let his daughter come to Kansas on her own last winter. And that small bit of freedom granted had ended with her being found half-drowned and unconscious on a Kansas river bank only a few months later.
No wonder Layla had been so oddly thrilled by the seemingly mundane experiences she had with him. It made perfect sense now: she’d been over-the-top protected her entire life, and had never been given the opportunity to take risks and live her own life.
Unfortunately, the fallout from her Kansas experiment was disastrous for Knud. In the end, he’d been forced to fall back on the one piece of his history he’d vowed never to revisit: his black ops past.
Having secured a very reluctant recommendation from Rafes, and an enthusiastic one from his former Wolf Force commander, Knud applied for a job at the Rustanov compound.
And wouldn’t you know—that got him in the proverbial door faster than anything else he’d tried thus far.
But it hasn’t been fast enough.
Knud’s wolf paces back and forth inside him as he goes through the usual first-day in a security job procedures: a second full-body scan; a credentials check for the bioware he’d only recently reconnected, which gave him access to two of the three main villas without needing to be accompanied by a senior guard; and a visit with the on-site tailor who outfitted him in one of the five suits that had been cut to his exact measurements.
“The fit is good,” the tailor remarks as he studies Knud in the three-way mirror. “Nice hair, too. Too bad you have to cut it.”
Another Rustanov security force rule: all male guards must wear their hair Marine short, or in a Samurai knot. Knud had more than done his time in the Marines, so he opts to get the Samurai knot. After being suited up, a stylist arrives and shaves both sides of his head before brushing his kinky curls into a low double knot at the back of his skull.
Almost there…almost there…he tells his wolf who can barely sit still.
After the hair, his escort is replaced by a guard who introduces himself as Brian, the day-shift security manager. Brian proceeds to give him an excruciatingly long tour of the compound, which includes two guest villas, staff living quarters, tennis courts, a gym, and just about every other amenity you’d expect to find at a five-star all-inclusive luxury resort. Alexei might have cloistered his oldest daughter after spending eight years in the White House, but Knud begins to understand why it took her so long to rebel. He might have thought twice about enlisting if he’d grown up like this.
The tour of the main villa comes dead last—probably because it’s the shortest.
“Here’s the foyer of the family residence,” Brian says, sweeping an arm around an entrance that could pretty much serve as an illustration for the term “opposite attracts.” An elegant double marble staircase with marble railings acts as a centerpiece along with the large crystal chandelier that hangs from the ceiling. But below on the main floor at the foot of the staircase sits two lipstick red couches which look not only visually inviting, but comfortable. Also, the ceiling is covered in a colorful spray paint mural that even Knud recognizes as the work of an iconic Brazilian street artist.
The two styles are completely at odds but somehow work together. But more important to him is that he is finally in the main family residence. Which means Layla’s room sits just three doors down on the second floor, to the left of the staircase…
As if to squelch Knud’s plans, Brian says, “This is where your security clearance ends. When you’re called to the main house, you are to wait here until a family guard meets you. You are never permitted to step foot on the stairs or anywhere outside this foyer unless you have been given explicit permission from a family guard. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” Knud answers…
…right before whipping out his stun gun and plunging it into the side of Brian’s neck.
Not the nicest way to put someone down, Knud thinks as he watches the guard jerk and then slump to the ground in a heap. Knud can already see the mark his surprise taser attack will leave on the side of Brian’s neck. But he is also well aware of the Kevlar that lines the fabric of their flawlessly tailored suits—so he knows nothing less than direct contact would have put one of these guys down. Plus, with all the advances in scar removal, he feels confident the guard’s surface injury will only be temporary.
This is important because he knows Layla would never forgive him if he left anything remotely close to his usual body count in his wake. And he already has a lot to beg her forgiveness for. For the wolf. For Brian. And for the two hallway guards he takes out with supernatural speed before they can even draw their weapons.
Knud doesn’t have much time, or an escape plan. Layla, the woman who probably hates him, has become his only way out of the compound. But she’s worth the risk of getting gunned down by her father’s guards. After all: she’s his mate. And if the last few weeks of misery have taught him anything, it’s that his life isn’t worth jack shit without her.
He plans to tell her just that when he throws open her door and runs into her room, only to stop short. Because…
The room is empty.
Maybe he’s in the wrong room? There’s another Rustanov daughter, two years younger than Layla but living abroad. Could this be the room she uses when she’
s visiting? But no…
He inhales deeply through his nose. This room smells like Layla. Linen sheets…natural fiber clothing…and her alchemized perfume. The scents mingle together, tantalizing him with a faded scent-picture of his mate. No, his wolf and nose tell him, this room can only belong to Layla. Which means…she was here, but not now.
His wolf howls in his chest, and his heart shrivels at the realization. Only months of methodical plotting kept his wolf from tearing him open and climbing out to find her himself. Of course, that wouldn’t be possible. But the longer Knud’s separated from his fated mate, the more it feels like it could happen. Which is why he has to—
The sudden scent of alchemized cologne, dark and rich, hits his nose followed by the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking. A cold metal barrel is pressed into the back of Knud’s newly shorn head, right beneath the samurai knot.
“I will ask you this only once. If you do not provide me with a satisfactory answer, I will pull the trigger.” Knud immediately recognizes the voice as that of Alexei Rustanov. “What are you doing in my daughter’s room?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Wolf Haven, Oklahoma
“How did you know?” I sign after a few moments of shock. “How did you know I’m pregnant?
The three exchange yet another look between them.
“Do you know who the father is?” I sign, my heartbeat ratcheting up to desperate.
Again, no answer.
Though I’ve spent the majority of my life trying to be a shining example of comportment and endless patience, something in me snaps.
“If you don’t tell me what you know, I will return with my father’s entire security force. Trust me, they care zero about your land’s ‘privilege’ status. Tell me the name of my baby’s father! TELL ME RIGHT NOW!”
To my surprise, Qim, not his mother, is the first to break. He turns to his parents. “K-Thunder brought Jandro to us,” he signs. “And he’s going crazy trying to get to her. This frightens us, but we owe K-Thunder.”
Grady shakes his head. “Not our place tell her.”
“Then whose?” Qim signs back. “J-Blessing is now our family. So is K-Thunder. We must tell her.”
“But North American Compact—” his dad begins.
“This not about politics. This about family!” Qim insists.
Grady looks to Tu for back-up. But she suddenly moves as close to me as the closed gate will allow and shakes her head back at her mate, signing, “Qim is right...”
She looks at me to speak-sign, “Plus, I love your mother. She is on my free-pass list, you know.”
“MOM, WHY!?” Qim signs emphatically, looking more like an embarrassed kid than a world-renowned med-tech billionaire.
In spite of the intense moment, my anger vanishes and I barely smother a laugh. This definitely isn’t the first time a woman has told me this. But I don’t want to stray off topic. “Okay, then. So, if one of you can just give me the name of…”
My hands bounce as I attempt to come up with the proper term for the guy who got me pregnant.
“Yes, we can tell you who your MATE is,” Tu jumps in, rescuing me from myself. “You should know he’s been looking for you everywhere. He is not easy to reach, but if you give us a moment, we can make a few calls and he’ll be here within the hour.”
My heart explodes with excitement. Yes! I’m finally going to get some answers—
The first cramp takes me totally unawares. It’s more surprising than painful. But the second cramp isn’t nearly as courteous. It slices across my abdomen with all the subtlety of a blade.
“Oh…!” I cry out, dropping to my knees with my arms clutching my middle.
Voices call out. And hands catch me, before gently placing me flat on the ground.
“Shimmer? Shimmer?!” Jared shouts down to me as he hovers protectively over my prone body. “Can you speak?”
I try but the words won’t come out. The pain is blinding. Miscarriage, I think dimly, tears pooling in my eyes at the thought. “Baby,” I gasp to Jared, spilling the secret. “I’m pregnant. Must help baby!”
I just found out that the father of this unborn baby has been trying to reach me the whole time I’ve been searching for him. I can’t lose the baby before we reconnect. It feels like the strange new voice is wailing—no not wailing, but full on howling inside my chest.
“Get her to our clinic!” Tu yells somewhere in the distance.
Even in my pain-laden state, I know my guards will never agree to bring me to some small-town clinic in the middle of nowhere.
Santiago’s already speaking over her, and I can hear Jared yelling for an immediate transport to the nearest Tier 1 hospital along with a bunch of codes I assume must mean pregnant woman down.
In the middle of it all, Tu continues to insist, “No! We have to take her to our clinic. If you want to save this baby, she needs to come to our clinic!”
And as if to punctuate her point, I can hear what I assume to be the electronic creak of the front gates opening wide.
That’s the last thing I register before I pass out.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Drummond, Texas
What are you doing in my daughter’s room?
Knud raised his hands in an unprecedented gesture of surrender. “I’m looking for Layla. I thought I’d find her here. Not you.”
“You knocked out three of my guards, but didn’t expect you’d have to deal with me?” Alexei asked behind him.
His voice has only the barest trace of a Russian accent, but Knud can tell he’s truly pissed off his mate’s father based on how the accent is growing more pronounced.
“Honest to God, I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. I was only trying to find Layla. To talk to her.”
“Why?” The question comes from a different voice, warm with a distinct Texas drawl, and her alchemized scent reminds him of thick honey poured over cornbread.
“Eva, leave us,” Alexei warns.
“This young man went through a whole lot of trouble to get to our daughter. I’m not leaving this room until he tells me why,” she answers in a tone that’s both sweet and hard as steel.
“I’m her…” Knud searches for the correct word, one these humans will understand. “…fiancé. I’m Layla’s fiancé.”
“Fiancé,” Alexei repeats, all but sneering the word. “She never mentioned a fiancé to us.”
Knud feels oddly sad but relieved Layla hasn’t mentioned him to her father. Though she’s no longer completely besotted with him, the fact that she hadn’t said a word about him could mean she isn’t as upset with him as he’d guessed. Because it’s obvious—any guy who did Layla wrong would not survive to see another day once Alexei found out.
“Is she alright?” Knud asks her parents. “I just need to make sure she’s okay.”
Her mother cuts right to the chase. “Are you the reason she fell into that river?”
“Yeah. I’m also the reason she’s pregnant. Which is why I need to know if she and our baby are okay.”
Silence. Then, the Russian accent is fully back as Alexei says, “You are the only man who has ever come near my daughter without my approval. And because of this, she ends up pregnant, on river bank, with no ring on her finger. For this alone I could kill you. Tell me why I should spare your miserable life.”
“Alexei, what in the hell are you doing?” Eva says before Knud can respond. “Didn’t you hear him? He just said he’s the father of Layla’s baby…and her fiancé. Our daughter chose him. Put the gun down!”
Rustanov didn’t move. “Da, he says this yet he failed to protect her. He failed to keep our Lasha safe. There is no reason why my grandchild should grow up with such an unworthy specimen for a father because its mother made a mistake.”
“Alexei, please! For once in your life, put down the damn gun and listen to me.”
Knud suspects this is a familiar dynamic between the couple. But instead of letting the argument play out, he feels compel
led to interrupt. Because he gets this guy. Gets him better than Eva Rustanov probably ever has.
And he also knows… “Sir, everything you have ever done for your daughter was to protect her. Everything you’re doing now is to keep her safe,” Knud says in as calm a voice as he can muster.
“Yes,” Alexei agrees. “I do what I do to keep her safe from fiancés like you.”
“I understand. I would have done the same if I was in your position.”
A beat passes. Then both Alexei and his wife say, “What?”
“If Layla were my daughter…I would do anything to keep her far from the likes of me. I don’t remotely deserve someone as bomb as her.”
“Da, so then why are you here? And why should I not kill you now?”
Without giving it a moment’s thought, Knud turns to face Alexei. But instead of using his superior strength and speed to disarm Layla’s father, he firmly presses his forehead into the barrel of the gun that used to be at the back of his head.
“You should not kill me now because I love your daughter. I love her enough to protect her with my life. I’ll take a sabbatical from my surgery schedule. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. But I promise I will never, ever let anyone hurt her again.”
“You’re a doctor?” Eva says, her face breaking into a surprised smile that almost perfectly matches that of her daughter.
“Yeah. When I’m not using my military past to apply for security jobs at your compound so I can see your daughter, I’m a pediatric surgeon. I realize that may be hard to believe…I know I don’t look like one.”
Eva nods in agreement. “You really don’t. Her last boyfriend was a doctor, too, but… to put it bluntly he looks like he could play one on TV. Whereas you look like you’d be better suited to…well, a job here. If you hadn’t just stun-gunned three of our best guards.
“Sorry about that,” he answers with an apologetic half smile before turning back to Alexei. “But the point is, sir, I love your daughter and I will protect her. From everything and everyone. Including me. Including you, sir. Because I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of dying. The one thing in this world I’m afraid of is living without Layla. And the only person who gets to tell me that I have to do that is her. So please either shoot me or tell me where she is. Because I’m not going to stop searching for her until I find her.
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