But Heinrich wasn’t waiting for answers—simply because he didn’t care.
“Kill her!” he ordered with a furious howl and a swipe of his hand to Gerhard, a massive tree trunk of a man who held the gun at Olaf’s head with a tight grip on his arm, but didn’t speak a word to his wife. Not a solitary word.
But Inga cried out, her eyes searching Olaf’s in desperation as they communicated something I didn’t understand. “Papa, no! Please don’t hurt her! Please stop, Papa! I will go with you. I’ll go back!”
But Heinrich—short, stout, angry little man in an Armani suit that he was—bellowed, “You! You took my grandchild from me—from Gerhard! How dare you! Where is my grandson?”
As Stevie started to answer, Inga cut her off. “Nooo! She didn’t do anything, Papa. She helped your grandson. Olaf helped your grandson. He didn’t know what I was planning to do. Please believe me, Papa!” Inga cried, her eyes swollen and red, her limbs shaking so hard, I thought she’d collapse.
“Zero, what can we do? We must do something!” Arkady urged in helplessness. I heard his barely contained panic, saw the terror in his eyes, but I had to keep my wits about me.
“Sit tight,” I whispered tersely. “Just keep him talking, Stephania. Keep him talking.”
“You lie!” Von Krause screamed, his round face going crimson, his jowls shaking with barely contained rage.
“Heinrich,” Olaf pleaded in a low tone totally unsuited to his size and predicament. “Let them go, Heinrich. Punish me. Punish me for helping them, but let Inga and the woman go. I beg you.”
Inga shuffled to try to get in front of Stevie, but she was unsuccessful. “I’ll go with you, Papa. I’ll go back home. I’ll do everything you say, but please leave her be. Let Olaf be,” she sobbed over Stevie’s shoulder, her words hitched and raspy.
As I watched this scene play out, desperate to help them, I saw Stevie’s jaw clench and her eyes flash that fiery anger.
“Stephania, I see your eyes. Don’t do it, Dove. I beg of you, maintain that temper. Please, don’t incite—remember what I’ve taught you. Do not incite—instead invite!”
However, Stephania wasn’t thinking of herself, she was thinking only of the baby she’d fallen in love with and Inga—which would be to her detriment. Selfless? Yes. To her detriment? Likely.
Her eyes narrowed and her stance became defensive. “You know, buddy, what kind of grandfather terrorizes his grandson like this? What’s wrong with you, Heinrich Von Krause? Did your mother not dole out enough hugs? Did she skip bedtime stories and chocolate chip cookies? Is that why you’re so darn mean?”
Heinrich nearly exploded, his face grew so red, but Stevie had done something I’m quite sure no one had ever done before her. She didn’t beg for her life. Instead, she called him on his thirst for blood—and she’d totally caught him off guard.
Thus, knowing such, sensing the change in his body language, she used that to her advantage.
Leaning back at the waist, and rolling her head about on her neck, she made a wild-eyed expression at him. “Well? Answer the question, tough guy? Are you the biggest jerk in the world because your mommy didn’t love poor you enough? Is that why you’re screaming and carrying on in front of everyone? Is. It?” she roared, much to Gerhard’s dismay and mystification.
Never the brightest star in the sky, Gerhard blinked, waiting for Heinrich to respond. Sure, he had muscle, he was an utter killing machine. But ask the dolt a question and he was all wide-eyed surprise and blinking confusion.
Thus, the gun he held at Olaf’s head wavered ever so slightly.
“What’s a matter, Heinrich, you disgraceful, useless lump? Cat got your tongue?” Stevie screamed so loud and with such venom, it echoed, making Inga jump and begin to cry again.
Inga’s crying took Heinrich and Gerhard’s attention, drawing their eyes to her and away from Stevie.
And that’s when Stevie—my brave, smart, brilliant Stevie—made her finest move yet. She yanked her phone out of her pocket and pressed a button, shoving it into her shirt.
“Stop in the name of the law!”
An authoritative voice bellowed the order just before the sound of sirens rang out in the air.
As Gerhard and Heinrich turned in surprise to the burned-out opening of the mill, expecting to see the police, Stevie did two things.
First, she screamed, “Run, Inga, run! Get out of here now!”
As Inga took off in a cloud of dust, Stevie did the second thing. She ran at Gerhard’s back, her ankles wobbling only for a moment in her wedge sandals before she got her footing and lunged herself at him with all her might, knocking the gun from his hand to the dirt floor.
Gerhard grunted as the gun flew across the dirt about twenty feet away and she latched onto his back like an octopus, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“Hold him, Stevie!” I ordered with a yelp. “Just as we taught you. Get him around the neck! Remember your pressure points!”
“Da, malutka! Da! This is the way! Do not let go! Now go for the eyes!” Arkady barked.
But just as Stevie curled her arms around Gerhard’s neck, preparing to use her thumbs to gouge his eyes out, he swung his body like a bucking bronco, his thick limbs gyrating until she fell from his back, hitting the hard-packed dirt with a grunt of pain.
My heart skipped several beats, but I had to remain in fight mode if I hoped to get her out of this. “Get up, Stephania! Get up! Don’t think about the pain, Dove, think about crushing the opponent who caused such pain!”
As Stevie rose, Olaf appeared to finally come to life, running after Heinrich, who chased after Inga. He hurled his enormous body at Von Krause, effectively taking him down to the ground in a heap of foul language and angry grunts.
But Von Krause is no dummy, and he didn’t get to where he is now by slacking off on his fight skills.
No, he doesn’t look like much of an opponent. He’s older, and enjoys far too many carbohydrates to qualify as fit, but he’s also quite skilled in the art of knife-play.
The moment Olaf had him on the ground, their bodies smashing together with a dull thud, was the moment Heinrich rolled over, and on the way, he dragged a gleaming knife from his sock so quickly, I had little choice but to be impressed.
As the knife arced in the air, shining under the sun peeking through the torn roof moments before he drove it downward at Olaf’s face, Stevie managed a scream as she pulled herself up to her knees.
“Olaf! Look out!”
Olaf did as warned, Heinrich missing his eye with the knife by mere inches. Yet as he rolled, he cracked his bald head on an old piece of timber, knocking himself out cold. He slumped in a heap of long limbs and leather, but he was no longer my worry. My worry was Gerhard getting his hand on the gun.
“Stephania! Don’t let Gerhard get that gun!”
In seconds, she was back on her feet, running at a disoriented Gerhard like a linebacker, throwing herself at him once more. This time, she managed to take him down to his back, knocking the wind out of him as they rolled together in a ball of limbs until she was on top of him.
She threw her legs around either side of his waist and latched onto his throat, her eyes wild with fear.
“Pressure points, malutka! Use your pressure-point skills! Make him go to sleep!” Arkady shouted, pacing in front of the bench like a caged animal.
But Gerhard’s hands were too quick for her, as he grabbed her wrists with his long fingers and began to squeeze to force her to let go.
“Use your thumbs, Stephania! Get to his eyes!”
But when she realized he was too strong for her, she did something more resourceful. If there’s one lesson we’d taught her in all this time, it’s that you don’t have to be the strongest, you simply have to be the smartest.
Instead of fighting Gerhard’s grip, she went with it, going slack, letting him think he had the upper hand. When he became comfortable he had her, she rocked backward on his body, letting her torso slide dow
n the length of him and, using her toes for leverage, she raised her knee and jammed it right between his tree-trunk thighs with a rebel yell.
“Let go of me, you disgusting beast!”
Gerhard howled his pain, his face contorting as he let go of Stevie’s wrists and instinctively curled up into a ball while Stevie rolled to the right of his body. But she was hurt. I could see the red rings around her wrists, noted her hands were almost unmoving.
“Get up, Stevie! You must get the gun!” I ordered, my mouth dry, my mind racing.
“To your left, malutka! To your left! The gun is to your left, but ten feet away!” Arkady bellowed. “Get up, my English muffin! Please, get up!”
Using her balled fists to pull herself up, gasping for breath, Stevie came to her haunches just in time to see Heinrich pull out a gun from the pocket of his jacket.
“Stephania, tuck and roll and get that gun!”
I all but screamed the order to her, but it was too late.
Heinrich had already aimed the gun, pulling the trigger before she could do anything.
“Malutka! Looook ooout! Nooooo!” Arkady bellowed, his voice raw and coming out in slow-motion syllables to my ears, I was so distressed.
And as the bullet whizzed in the air, its velocity making a hissing noise, and Stevie’s eyes went wide, everything stopped for me. There were no more words, not another breath left in me.
“Ahhhhh!” Gerhard’s outraged scream cut into the almost eerie silence of the darkened mill as he dove for Stephania—
And then he let out another piercing squeal as the bullet intended for Stevie hit him square in the chest.
He fell forward onto Stevie, pinning her to the ground with his hulk-like body.
And that’s when Heinrich pounced, stomping forward, hell bent on shooting Stevie.
“Malutka! You must get the gun! Listen to Arkady! Listen, please! Reach over to your left. It is right there! You must shoot Von Krause!”
But she was hurt and tired and her eye was the size of a hot air balloon, and as she struggled under Gerhard’s heavy weight, she couldn’t seem to get her arm out from under him to find the gun.
“Use him as a shield, malutka! Please get the gun! Pleeease!”
I watched, almost frozen for a moment as Heinrich grew closer, I’m assuming to ensure a clean shot due to Gerhard’s body covering a good portion of Stevie’s. His face was beet red, his eyes bulging from their sockets in rage, and as he drew ever closer, and as I helplessly watched the woman I love more than anyone I’ve ever loved before squeal and struggle, while I watched the sweat bead her brow, I didn’t even bother to shout an order at her.
Instead, I reacted.
I can’t explain the how or the why of it. I don’t understand how to replicate it, but my rage for Heinrich, my fear for Stephania, culminated in an almost blackout.
I heard Arkady yelling, I heard Stevie’s muffled cries as she grunted in sheer panic, using every breath she had in her to get away.
And then I heard nothing. Absolutely nothing for a heart-stopping second.
But when my eyes opened, I wasn’t seeing the world with the glowy haze I normally experienced. Nay, everything was clear as day, and when I attempted to open my mouth to aid Arkady in encouraging Stevie to get away, there was a very different feel to my lips.
The world around me came back in a roar of sound and color, and when Arkady yelled, “Zero! Get the gun!” in a thundering instant, I realized what had happened.
Bloody hell, I’d possessed Gerhard’s body.
Jolly good show, eh?
Chapter 16
Stevie’s scream ripped through my ears as I rolled from her, giving myself only enough time to orient and reach for the gun.
“Get the gun, Zero! Get the gun!” I heard Arkady’s howl of an order, was grateful he realized what had happened, but what he didn’t realize was, this body I’d somehow managed to possess was in some pretty bad shape.
Yet, as awkward as it was to be in another’s body, with the added weight and the injury, I somehow found my coordination and my fingers wrapped around the smooth handle of the gun as I inched my way next to it while still on my side.
But then Stevie, not realizing I’d taken over Gerhard’s body, came at me, driving her index finger into my bullet hole and howling her triumph.
Now, I say this with great pride—it hurt like the dickens and instinct made me want to roundhouse her, but to her credit, Stephania had come a long, long way and she’d learned a great deal. One of the things she’d learned was to go for any weak spot available, and the bullet hole was definitely a weak, agonizingly sore spot. She was a force to be reckoned with these days, and I couldn’t be prouder.
“Ahhhhh!” I roared in pain, surprising myself by yelling my words, yet, using Gerhard’s vocal chords.
“No, malutka, no! It is Win in there! Do not hurt him!”
Stevie’s eyes went huge and she fell backward in shock, just as Heinrich aimed the gun at her, his shot now wide open.
“Shoot, Zero! Shoot to kill!”
On my side, gun in hand, I raised it and took a shot, nicking him in the knee enough to knock him down, and then, without hesitation, I went for the kill shot.
It’s been over a year since I’ve even touched a gun, and using someone else’s hand to shoot isn’t exactly a cakewalk, but I aligned the nose of the weapon with Heinrich’s forehead.
“Pull the trigger, Zerooo!”
Heinrich’s scream of rage, his pure hatred, left me with no choice. I pulled the trigger, successfully clipping him between the eyes.
His fall was hard, heavy, loud if you will, as he crumpled to the ground, his face a mask of fury even as he sprawled out in death.
And then there was the sound of Stevie, her hands and feet scraping the ground as she pulled her way to me, crawling across the dirt until she held my head in her lap.
“Win?” she whispered as tears streamed down her dirt-streaked face. “Oh, my God, is that you?”
My smile was brief, mostly because I wasn’t used to moving Gerhard’s mouth. “It is, Dove. It is.”
And then she scooped me up into her arms, forgetting the fact that I was only a soul inhabiting a body—a very bad person’s body, no less. Pressing her forehead to mine, she cried, tearing at my very core.
Her hand cupped my cheek. “Win, oh my God, Win. You did it! You’re incredible! How did you do it?” she rasped out, wetting my face with her salty tears.
“I don’t know,” I managed, knowing this wouldn’t last long, feeling the energy begin to drain from me. “You were in danger, Dove. That’s all I know.”
“Stay with me, Win. Please, please, please stay,” she begged, her voice raw and shaking, her hands trembling as she cradled me.
“In this thug’s body?” I whispered back, coughing up the acrid taste of blood. “Never. Never, Dove.”
Her chest heaved, her blackened eye, swollen and rimmed in red, dripped more tears, yet still she laughed. “I don’t want you to leave, Win. I know it’s selfish, but I’d give anything if you’d stay.”
The pain grew worse, stinging, burning, clawing at me, but I used the last breath I’d take as Gerhard to say, “Someday, Dove. I promise. Someday…soon…”
And then, just like that, I was out of Gerhard’s body and back on the bench with Arkady. Exhausted, but right back on Plane Limbo.
I heard Stephania’s sobs, saw her pull Gerhard’s body closer to her chest, and then felt Arkady’s strong hand at my back.
“Zero! My friend, are you all right?” He peered at me, using two fingers to pull my eyelids open.
But I batted him and his worry away. “I’m fine, mate.”
“That was magnificent, Zero! You are magnificent! Like super spy as always, my friend!”
But I wasn’t ready to hear anything other than Stevie was going to be okay, and Inga and little Sebastian were safe.
Stevie pulled herself away from Gerhard, her next duty clear as she stoical
ly wiped the tears from her eyes and looked to Olaf. Rising, unsteady and ragged, she went to him, kneeling beside him to grab his wrist and feel for a pulse.
“Olaf!” Inga yelled from the edge of the mill, running toward them. “Oh, my Olaf!” She fell to her knees alongside Stevie, concern and fear in her eyes.
Yet, Olaf stirred, jolting upright until he realized he was safe and sound, thanks to Stephania.
Stevie stood up and took a deep breath as the couple embraced, stepping to the side to let them have their reunion.
But the moment didn’t last long as Stevie scanned the interior of the mill. “Guys? I know it’s been a while since you’ve been safe from harm, but we need to get the heck out of here in case anyone heard those shots. If we hope to avoid the police, we have to go.”
Olaf let Inga help him to his feet, the gash in his head from his tussle with the piece of timber bloody but not life-threatening. “Who are you?” he asked, bewildered. “Why did you have Sebastian?”
Stevie’s laugh came out in a tired chuckle. “It’s a long story. I’ll let Inga tell you all about it. Suffice it to say, I just want you two and the baby to live long, happy lives. Now let’s get anything the police could tag as evidence and get the heck out of here so you guys can disappear.”
Inga helped as Stephania and Olaf gathered guns and placed them according to Stevie’s instructions, nearer to the bodies to make it appear as though Heinrich and Gerhard had shot one another. Then they gathered the rope and duct-tape that had held Inga in the hole. They double-checked to be sure they’d properly covered the hole in the floor with the wood disk, pushing dirt over it, all this as they very carefully avoided Gerhard and Heinrich’s bodies.
With a sigh, Stevie brushed off her hands and put her blue sweater back on, buttoning it to cover the bloodstains on her shirt. “I think we’re good. Let’s get out of here before we get caught. I need a steak for my eye and some wine for my soul.”
As they plodded to Stevie’s car, worn, dirty, Inga explained to Olaf what had happened at the mill, and he scooped Stevie up in an enormous hug and thanked her profusely before they all got into the car to retrieve Sebastian.
Ain't Love a Witch? (Witchless in Seattle Mysteries Book 6) Page 16