by Krista Wolf
“Coats!”
“What?”
“It’s a coat closet,” I cried joyously.
I moved quickly, throwing on the first one I found that came down to my ankles. It was heavy and warm. Made from real animals, not faux fur. Even in the chaos, I wrinkled my nose at the thought.
“Okay, ready?”
My savior was poised at the door, prepared to throw it open again. He slipped one calloused hand back into mine.
“But the hall’s not clear,” I protested.
“Exactly. We go out with the crowd.”
He shifted forward, and I squeezed his hand to stop him.
“Hang on a second. Somehow you know who I am… and what I was trying to do.”
I examined him closely and he nodded.
“So then… why are you here?”
My savior pulled on the thick iron handle, flooding the closet with light. Halfway through, he paused to glance back at me.
“Same reason you are.”
Five
HOLDEN
The Palace of the Grand Master of the Knights was re-built in the 14th century, on the isle of Rhodes. It was an amazingly well-preserved castle ruin. A spectacular place to have a lavish, exclusive, high-level party.
In terms of security however, it had a thousand holes.
I took full advantage of that fact now, rushing through the underhalls of the sprawling, Gothic palace. The fancy sconces and iron candelabras were more for ambiance now, than function. They cast a warm but flickering light, leaving lots of places to hide in the shadows.
“Why are we going down?”
I’d taken the next staircase without even thinking. Though it was my first time here, I’d studied enough floor plans, old and new, that I could navigate the place in my sleep.
“Trust me.”
The blonde at the other end of my arm was gorgeous, her cheeks flushed pink with the exertion of running. She was keeping up though, especially without those godforsaken heels on. And she was doing it well.
“Shouldn’t we stick with the others?” she said. “Everyone’s going outside.”
“Yes, and that’s where they’ll be,” I countered. “Waiting for us to exit. Picking apart every person or couple who walks through that gate.”
The answer seemed good enough for her. At least for now.
It was almost surreal, that we’d encounter her tonight of all nights. That she’d have picked the exact same event we did, to finally make her move.
And yet when I thought about it, it wasn’t really that surprising at all. The palace was the perfect place for an ambush: low visibility, high probability of target. And Kyrkos was supposed to be here. There was every indication he would be here…
And still we’d missed him.
“This is the third staircase we’ve taken below the main level,” she started up again. “Are you taking us to hide or something?”
“No.”
“Then what—”
“This place was built twice,” I said, pulling her along. “The second time, over a set of seven-hundred year old ruins.”
The air was getting colder and danker now. We were reaching older tunnels that were almost completely dark.
“It’s also built on a hill,” I said. “Because originally… ah, there it is.”
The door was ancient oak, from a tree a thousand and a half years dead. It was heavy and thick. Banded with iron.
And it was also propped open, exactly as Randall said it would be.
We pushed through, and the waterfront of the city lay spread out before us. Beyond that, the Aegean Sea… its surging whitecaps sparkling like jewels in the moonlight.
I let go of her hand. It was a little crazy, but almost immediately, I missed the comfort of her touch.
“Can you run?”
There were voices above us. Everyone from the party, being forced to exit from a choke-point between the castle’s two main turrets.
“Faster than you.”
I whipped my head to look at her. She wasn’t even out of breath.
“Division one Track and Field,” she boasted. “Eight-hundred meters. Fifteen hundred meters…”
Her lips were plump and full… and wet too, like she’d just licked them. Suddenly I wanted to kiss them again. Shit, I wanted to go on kissing her forever.
“Four-hundred meter hurdles,” she went on. “Long jump, triple jump…”
“Alright, alright,” I laughed out loud. “I love it.”
The voices grew louder, probably because the crowd was getting bigger. But I could hear others now too. Sharper voices, barking orders.
“I’ll say when,” I said.
“Say where too,” she replied. “I don’t want to have to wait up for you.”
She was cocky, I’d give her that. Especially for someone who’d just botched an assassination. The idea that she’d tried to pull it off all by herself was still unbelievable to me.
“See the wharf?”
I pointed. She nodded.
“That’s where we’re going.”
I looked back at her again, this time with all new eyes. She was five-foot-nothing. Curves in exactly the right places. Her long blonde hair was pinned back over her ears, her stark blue eyes scanning the landscape laid out before us.
She’s not afraid.
It was the first thing that really struck me about her. That in all the chaos, all the confusion, she hadn’t even flinched.
In fact, she was handling everything with an uncanny calm and precision.
We already knew who she was, of course. Why she was here. Her reasons were so eerily similar to our own, we already felt a strange kinship without even knowing her.
And now I’d kissed her…
And she’d kissed me back.
“Hey,” she said, tugging at my sleeve. I glanced down, noticing absently I’d lost a cufflink. “Look. They’re moving.”
She pointed, and I could see the guests being led out into a garden area. They were surrounded by black suits. Some of them were still holding their drinks.
“See the first pier that extends outward,” I said. “On the left?”
I watched as she shrugged out of the fur coat, getting ready to run. She had starfire eyes. Dark violet rims fading to sky blue in the center, flecked with daggers of sapphire.
And her eyes were glassy, too. Like there was a thrill of anticipation in them.
“Yes.”
“Meet you down there,” I said, “and—”
She was off like a rocket, sprinting down the embankment in a blur of red. I shook my head in disbelief.
“—and don’t stop for anything…” I said to the empty air.
Six
ANDREA
It was a good half mile to the pier, and all of it was downhill. We cut across a small park, came out next to a row of cars, and followed the curve of the road all the way down to the waterline.
To my surprise, my white knight kept up with me. Most guys certainly couldn’t. For all his strength and size he kept on chugging along, arms pumping, his long legs propelling him all the way to the end.
He arrived there only seconds before I did, skidding to a halt at the edge of the pier. He was barely even winded. I knew right then, he’d had some sort of training.
“Were we followed?” I gasped.
He looked back, shaking his head. “Don’t think so. But you can bet your ass they saw us run.”
A motor started up, and we both whirled. One of the four boats moored to the dock had roared to life, the engine sputtering puffs of thick white smoke.
“That’s our ride.”
The man in the boat was already grinning as we approached. He was roguishly handsome. A bit shorter than his friend, with dark messy hair and a thick beard that tapered down to a point. Where his T-shirt ended, his arms were sleeved with tattoos.
“She almost beat you.”
My sprinting buddy grumbled something unintelligible. He began throwing off lin
es.
“I would’ve beaten him,” I pointed out. “If I weren’t wearing this dress.”
The man in the boat looked me up and down and laughed. “And she’s barefoot too.”
We all stared down to where my once-sexy stockings were torn away, literally, at my ankles. Wordlessly, my hero unwrapped another rope.
“Randall?”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck off.”
I could sense a tension between them, but also a camaraderie. This was their thing, I could already tell. They stirred each other’s pots. They got off on it.
“This is the fastest boat you could find? Really?”
His companion shrugged. “What the hell did you expect? It’s a sailing wharf. Mostly yachts.”
“Yeah, well this sucks.”
“Hey, next time you steal the boat and I’ll rescue the hot blonde.”
He held his hand out to me, to help me board. I took it gratefully.
“This hot blonde was in the process of rescuing herself,” I chimed in. “Just so you know, I didn’t ask for anyone’s help.”
The bearded guy chuckled. “I love the way you left the word ‘hot’ in there.”
“Well if the shoe fits...” I grinned back at him.
CRACK!
Something on the boat snapped. Or splintered. Or broke under tension.
“.50 cal?” Randall asked, looking casually back at the hill.
“Most likely, yeah.”
“Time to go, then.”
I followed my dance partner’s gaze backward. The lights of the palace made it look even more beautiful from this distance. As I watched, a flash of yellow muzzle fire burst from somewhere high atop the castle wall. Less than a second later, a hole exploded in the boat’s floor, two feet from my foot.
“Holy fuck!”
I dove down, crouching low behind one of the back-to-back double seats. Neither of the guys seemed concerned about cover as they pushed us off from the dock.
“Damn,” said the man called Randall. “If only I had my Win Mag…”
“W—What’s that?”
“It’s the rifle I’d use,” he replied calmly, “to put a bowling-ball sized exit wound into that fucker shooting at us.”
Another shot split the night. This one erupted in a plume of water, right where the boat had been only two seconds ago.
“The both of you should get down!” I cried.
Randall was looking back through a pair of sleek black binoculars now. “Sweetheart, if he puts one on you that seat’s going to offer you all the protection of a paper condom,” he said. “Shit, it’d drill a hole right through the engine block, and still do enough damage to—”
WHIIIRRRRRRRRRR!
Whatever else he said was lost to the roar of the engine. My running partner gunned the throttle, and the boat surged forward in a wonderful rush of wind and noise.
Thank God!
For a few moments he was cutting the wheel left and right, weaving the bow through a series of random S-turns that I knew were designed to make us a harder target. No other shots rang out, no more splashes bloomed in the water. By the time we reached the end of the jetty, I felt almost safe.
Gradually, I stood up.
“Who are you guys?” I demanded.
I moved next to the driver, watching as he steered us around the jagged rock wall and into open waters. The boat sliced easily through the choppy waves and out into the darkness of the Aegean Sea. It wasn’t the smoothest ride, but it wasn’t terrible either.
“We’re friends,” the guy steering the boat said. “Call us… friends with common interests.”
I braced my legs and crossed my arms. “Got a name, friend?”
“Sure. Holden.”
I stared back at him. Compared to Randall, who wore dark jeans and a black T-shirt, my hero looked like the most overdressed boat captain ever.
“Holden, huh?” I thought I could see the slightest hint of a wry smile. “That your first name or your last name?”
“Does it really matter?”
“I suppose not.”
He shrugged. “Then it’s both.”
“You can call him dickhead if you like,” Randall jumped in, sidling up on my other side. “That’s what I always do.”
I pursed my lips in mock consideration. “You really think he looks like a dickhead?”
“Either that or a fuck-face,” Randall answered gleefully.
“I was thinking more along the lines of a douche-nozzle.”
The bearded man stared back at me like he’d just found a favorite new playmate. “She’s sassy! I like that!” He patted me hard on the shoulder before turning to Holden. “Okay fine. She comes with.”
Comes with… My mind was still spinning a mile a minute. Comes with where?
“Wait!” I said abruptly, whirling around again. “What about your other friend?”
“Other friend?”
“The third guy!” I exclaimed. “Six foot six? Packed with muscle?” They still weren’t getting it. “Looks like a bear?”
Fucks like a demon… the little voice in my head teased.
Silently they shook their heads.
“He was with me,” I said, squirming a little at the double entendre. “Well… sort of. I saw him up in the upper chambers. When I was… well…”
They were both staring back at me in confusion now.
“He’s not with you?”
The men looked at each other for a moment, and I could see something unspoken pass between them. Something new.
“No third guy here, Babydoll,” said Randall. He turned sideways, and his beard flapped wildly in the wind.
“On this mission? It’s just us.”
THREE ALPHA ROMEO IS NOW ON AMAZON!
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About the Author
Krista Wolf is a lover of action, fantasy and all good horror movies… as well as a hopeless romantic with an insatiably steamy, dirtier side.
She writes suspenseful, mystery-infused stories filled with blistering hot twists and turns. Tales in which headstrong, impetuous heroines are the irresistible force thrown against the immovable object of powerful, alpha heroes.
If you like intelligent and witty romance served up with a panty-dropping, erotic edge? You’ve just found your new favorite author.
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