The Defender

by Donna Grant

  He frowned at the outstretched hand. “What?”

  “The COM in your ear, please.”

  Damn. He’d thought he might get lucky and have her forget about it, though he wasn’t sure what good it was since he hadn’t heard from Callie since the theatre. Lev reached up and removed the COM to place in Reyna’s hand.

  She flashed a quick grin of appreciation and motioned to the chains with the gun. He couldn’t wait to take the weapon from her. Maybe he’d even tie her up.

  The image that flashed in his mind had nothing to do with torture. It was so surprising that he jerked in shock, but he quickly covered it by locking one shackle and then the other around his wrists. He was able to move slightly from the bed to the window, but little else.

  The moment the chains were on, she lowered the gun. Her shoulders dropped slightly, and for the first time, he saw her exhaustion. When she walked to check the window, he noticed that she limped.

  Had that happened when they fought? Most likely. He hadn’t even known he’d hurt her. And, dammit, he didn’t want to feel bad about any injuries that he’d given her. He was her prisoner, after all.

  Willing prisoner, he had to remind himself.

  She didn’t say another word as she walked out. Reyna didn’t even close the door behind her. Lev listened as she moved around the bedroom across the narrow hall. It wasn’t long before she was in the kitchen making noise.

  To his surprise, she returned a short time later with a sandwich on a plate as well as a Styrofoam cup filled with beer. She set it on the table next to him and backed away.

  “It isn’t much, but I thought you might be hungry.”

  He was a little peckish now that he had food in front of him. “Why did you bring me here?”

  She shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly a smart move.”

  “You want something from me.”

  Reyna lifted the COM. “Who sent you?”

  Lev ignored her and reached for the food. He took a bite, surprised at how good it tasted. He chewed and swallowed before he drank down half of the beer before bringing the sandwich to his mouth once more.

  She finally sighed and walked out. This time, she closed the door behind her. He stared at the entrance even as he heard the sound of a chair scraping on the floor. Was she eating her own sandwich? It was too bad they weren’t eating together.

  He winced. Those thoughts really needed to stop. He had a mission, and it didn’t involve an American posing as a Ukrainian.

  Lev wiped his mouth after he’d finished his meal. Then he lay back on the bed and crossed his ankles, turning his head to the light under his door as he wondered what Reyna was doing.

  4

  The meditation wasn’t working this morning. Reyna opened her eyes and blew out an exhausted breath while looking at the dense forest before her. All she’d wanted was sleep after she and Lev had gotten to the cabin, but the hours had crawled by with agonizing slowness as she lay in bed.

  She couldn’t even blame it on her prisoner since he hadn’t made a sound at all. Reyna had finally given up and rose, thinking that some meditation and a workout might be just what she needed to focus her mind once more.

  The workout had gone great. And even though she was a little sore from her skirmish with Lev, it didn’t stop her from her normal routine.

  She rose from the deck and slowly moved her gaze from one side of the woods to the other. The cabin was far enough back from the road that someone couldn’t just happen upon it. And if anyone did venture down the lane, she had alarms at various places along the drive that would alert her when someone got close.

  But if the Saints—or anyone—decided to come after her, they wouldn’t drive up to the cabin. They’d come through the forest. Her years at the CIA had given her a lot of training for just such scenarios, and thankfully, she had made some good friends along the way. Acquaintances that didn’t care who she worked for. They only wanted her money.

  It was just such a friend that had made the sensors along the drive as well as certain places in the woods. She also had ammunition and guns, but it wouldn’t be enough.

  She yanked the elastic free from her hair to let the ponytail down. She then shook out her locks and walked back into the cabin. Dawn had just broken. No doubt Lev was awake, which meant she needed to see to him.

  Reyna put the kettle on to heat. Then she opened Lev’s door slowly and peeked inside to find him standing at the window looking out. The chains clanked together as he drew in a deep breath, his shoulders rising as he did.

  She watched him for a few seconds as she recalled how he’d yanked off the bowtie as if the thought of it around his throat had been too much. Even standing in what remained of his eveningwear, he cut a handsome figure.

  Quite frankly, she was glad that his eyes weren’t on her. He had a way of looking at her that made her antsy, as if he were peeling back her many layers of armor to see into her soul. Lev wouldn’t find anything there. She’d lost her soul when she joined the CIA.

  Her heart...well, she’d lost that long ago, as well.

  “You did not sleep.”

  His words surprised her. She’d thought he’d been resting. “I won’t fall asleep today if you think that’s how you’ll get free.”

  The chains clinked again as he looked at her over his shoulder. Lev said nothing, just stared at her with his frosty blue gaze.

  She left the door ajar and returned to the kitchen. She didn’t usually eat breakfast, but she found she was starving this morning. She made bacon and eggs, filling two plates. Then she poured two cups of tea. With a mug and plate in hand, she returned to Lev’s room.

  This time, he faced her when she walked in. She met his gaze and held out her hands for him to take the food. In the blink of an eye, she saw him size her up and determine if there was a way for him to get free.

  “The key to the chains is hidden, so I wouldn’t suggest killing me. Otherwise, you’ll starve,” she told him.

  Lev shrugged and said, “I’ve been in worse situations and have gotten free.”

  After he’d taken the food and turned to sit on the bed, he set the cup of tea down and began eating without looking at her again. Reyna, however, was ready for information. Unfortunately, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she needed to fill it.

  She pivoted and made her way to the kitchen table where she sat. While she ate, she checked the video feed of the cameras throughout the forest from her phone. There hadn’t been an alert, but it was a habit for her to look anyway.

  Reyna downed the food and found that it improved her mood some. She fixed another mug of tea and drank it as she thought about the day. No doubt her handler from the Saints, Lorraine, would contact her any minute. Reyna had followed protocol for last night, though she had left a little earlier than she was supposed to—with a prisoner in tow.

  As if her thoughts had conjured the Saints, her phone buzzed. Thanks to some work from a hacker friend, the Saints—and anyone else looking for her—would believe she was in Kiev. But she knew such technology could only help her for so long.

  She answered the phone, gripping it tightly. Reyna had pushed the boundaries very little while in the Saints. This was the first time she had dared to test just how far she could go.

  “I thought you’d sound more pleased,” said the American woman’s voice on the other end. “Everything went according to plan just as you said it would.”

  Reyna sat forward at the sound of Lorraine’s voice, leaning her elbow on the table. “I am pleased.”

  “The repercussions of Stasiuk’s meddling is spreading far and wide. Everyone will think twice about going against us.”

  “Except they don’t know it was us,” Reyna said.

  Loraine laughed. “Those who needed reminding know it’s us. That’s what matters.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “You make me look good, Reyna. I knew you were wasted in the CIA. You’re much better off with us. Keep up the good work.”
>
  Reyna squeezed her eyes closed. “Thank you.”

  “How do you feel about returning home?”

  Reyna sat up straighter, unease rippling through her. “You want me back in America?”

  “We’re having a little issue that needs to be addressed. One of our other operatives let us down and was killed. I told them you’d get the job done because you always succeed in whatever I send you to do.”

  Reyna pulled out her tablet and searched American news outlets for any information. “That’s my job. What do you need me to do?”

  “You’ll get details soon. I worked in a couple of days off for you. Enjoy them while you can.”

  The line went dead. Reyna shut off the phone and set it aside. She hadn’t been back to the US in five years. Not since...

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to return. In fact, she’d assumed that they would keep her where she was since she had been completing the jobs. Reyna didn’t want to think of the people who had died so she could topple the Saints, but it was better than billions dying.

  The sound of Lev’s chains pulled her out of her thoughts. Shit. He would have heard her conversation. Even if he didn’t understand English, he would’ve known she spoke it. Did it matter, though?

  She needed information from him. And after? Well, she wasn’t sure what she would do with him then. The best course of action would be to kill him, but she hadn’t actually pulled the trigger to end someone’s life in nearly two years.

  While she didn’t hesitate to defend herself, the shots she took only wounded her enemies. It just happened that other Saints fired the killing shots.

  That didn’t exempt her from the deaths. The fact that she was there, fighting alongside the Saints—no matter why—made her accountable.

  What it meant for her aloof prisoner, she wasn’t sure.

  Reyna pushed aside the tablet after not finding anything and rose from her chair. She had two days with Lev. It wasn’t a lot, but it would have to do. When she reached the door, she leaned her shoulder against it to find him reclining on the bed, his hands laced behind his head, his ankles crossed, and his eyes closed.

  “I need intelligence,” she told him in Russian. “I’m prepared to take whatever steps I have to in order to get it.”

  His head turned toward her as he opened his eyes. Then he said in perfect English without even a hint of a Russian accent, “Then you better get to it.”

  Damn. She’d really held out hope that he was Russian. Not that she particularly wanted to mess with anyone from that country, but it would be better than someone from the US. Since the Saints infiltrated not only the governments but also the intelligence agencies of both Russia and America, Reyna couldn’t trust anyone. For all she knew, Lev had been sent to kill her.

  “Did they send you for me?” she demanded.

  He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Would you believe anything I told you?”

  No. And that was the rub.

  “I’m here for the Saints,” Lev stated.

  Reyna wasn’t sure how to take his confession. He could be someone standing against the organization. It was insane and foolish, but a few dared—though they never lived long enough to do any damage.

  Then again, he could be a Saint testing her allegiance.

  Lev never broke eye contact. “You don’t believe me.”

  “I’m waiting for you to continue.”

  His head tilted slightly. “Why didn’t you kill me at the theatre?”

  “Because I want intel.”

  “On?”

  “Whoever sent you.”

  He blew out a breath. “Free me, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  “Right,” she said with a laugh.

  “No one sent me. I came on my own.”

  Reyna retrieved the COM from the kitchen counter and returned to the doorway. “This says otherwise.”

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t working with others. I simply said no one sent me.”

  “So, who are you working with?”

  “Does it matter?” he asked.

  She raised her brows and nodded. “It does.”

  “Again, would you believe me?”

  “Give me a reason to,” she stated.

  One side of his lips lifted in a smile. “What were you? CIA? Secret Service? I recognize the training.”

  “You say that as if you were trained, as well.”

  He shook his head slowly. “Why would you get mixed up with the Saints?”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Do you know what they are? What they’re planning?”

  She pushed away from the doorway. “Who are you working with?”

  He flashed her a quick grin. “You’re going to have to do better than that to get anything from me.”

  “I could probably cut off every one of your fingers, and you still wouldn’t tell me anything,” she guessed.

  His smile was slow as it filled his face. “That’s right. Keep asking your questions. I’ve got some of my own.”

  “If you won’t tell me anything, then there’s no point in keeping you around.”

  “Then shoot me,” he said as his smile vanished and he held out his arms. “Or free me. But do something.”

  She frowned. “Do you think I won’t put a bullet in your skull?”

  “You had the chance and didn’t do it. That means you want something bad enough to bring me out here, chain me up, and keep me prisoner in the hopes you might get it. It reeks of desperation.”

  “Maybe in your eyes,” she retorted. “In mine, I know what will happen when I get what I want from you and take it to my superiors.”

  He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I might tell you something, but how do you know it’s not a lie? Your plan to gain some advantage with your superiors will be for naught if what I give you is false information.”

  Damn him for being right. Her ex-partner, Arthur, had said that she didn’t have the stomach for torture. He was right, but she didn’t have a choice now. Too much rested on her shoulders.

  “It’s a chance I’ll have to take.”

  Lev tsked. “You’re going to have to trust someone, Reyna.”

  “And you want me to trust you?” She laughed and shook her head. “That’s not going to happen.”

  5

  Someone would have to be the first to bend. It wasn’t something Lev did. Ever. But after hearing Reyna on the phone, he had a suspicion that there was a lot about the female she kept hidden.

  Much as he did.

  Her dark eyes held his as if daring him to be the first to crack. He’d been through so many levels of Hell, that it would take much more than her to break him. And while his instinct was to refuse to budge, he recalled fighting alongside the Loughmans, their women, Yuri, and Maks Petrov against the Saints.

  It had felt good to take such a stand, even if it killed him not to be by Sergei’s side to protect him. The sooner Lev finished with this, the sooner he could get back to Maryland and Sergei.

  Where he belonged.

  Because as much as the Loughmans might try and make him feel as if he were part of their group, Lev knew better. He was a loner. Destiny had chosen that road for him. Sergei had given him a home and a place to hone his skills. Lev owed Sergei everything.

  “You want information?” Lev lifted his arms. “Take these off.”

  Reyna shook her head of caramel locks. “I quite like walking around without having my gun pointed at you every second.”

  “I won’t attack you or leave.”

  She barked in laughter. “As if I’ll take your word.”

  Lev glanced down at the floor. He’d planned to wait to show her that he’d picked the locks during the night with the pin that she’d given him to unlock the door at the theatre, but it seemed that now was his opportunity.

  He tugged gently, and the shackles fell to the floor. Reyna’s eyes widened as her lips parted in shock. Then her gaze jerked to his face.


  “You forgot to take this back,” Lev said as he held up the pin. “I unlocked them within an hour of being here last night. I didn’t harm you or leave when I had the chance. That should prove my word is good.”

  She closed her lips and swallowed. Anger tightened her features, but he suspected that she was furious with herself more than him. “Who are you?” she demanded. “I’ve done this job a long time. I don’t make mistakes.”

  “You did last night,” he pointed out.

  “If I made those kinds of mistakes often, I wouldn’t be alive.”

  She spoke the truth there. Had it been anyone but him, she would be dead. But he didn’t point that out. There was no need. She knew.

  Lev got to his feet. As he did, he saw the way she took a defensive step back, readying to go for a gun she most likely had stashed nearby.

  He ignored her and picked up his empty plate and mug before he walked past her to the kitchen. Lev set the dishes by the sink and rolled up his sleeves. He had his back to her, but he was aware of her position.

  As soon as he had walked into the kitchen, Reyna moved to the fireplace and reached into the bucket of wood for a pistol. Lev didn’t say anything to her. If it made her feel safer to have a weapon pointed at him, then he’d let her. For now.

  After he’d finished the dishes, he dried his hands and turned to face her, leaning back against the counter. He spread the damp towel out to dry and folded his arms across his chest. The only good thing was that she didn’t have the gun pointed at him.

  “I don’t work for the Saints,” he told her. “I came here to stop Stasiuk’s assassination.”

  “You didn’t succeed.”

  He drew in a breath. “I know.”

  “Even if you had saved him, the Saints would’ve gone after him again. And again. Until they ended him.”

  Lev wondered if she realized that she didn’t include herself with the Saints. That slip-up might have been done on purpose, but his instincts said otherwise. His gut told him that Reyna wasn’t with the Saints, even if she was working for them.

  Which meant that she might be undercover. It made sense. Especially given she was so adamant about wanting information to take to her superiors.