by Amity Cross
Letting my arm drop, he fastened my seat belt and climbed into the driver’s seat. Whatever happened next, I didn’t know. Knowing I was safe with Jackson and X, I allowed the darkness to take me again.
When I finally surfaced again, I was lying on the bed in the hotel room Jackson had found for us. The same bed I’d lain in and let my anguish at X’s death try to take me.
Blinking, I focused on the body that lay next to me.
“Where’s Jackson?” I asked X. He was beside me, his back against the headboard, his fingers probing his shoulder.
“He’s gone to report your intel to MI6,” he replied, reaching for one of those square sticky bandage things doctors stuck on wounds at the hospital. Whatever they were called.
I pushed myself up, ignoring the fatigue that still clung inside my head, stuffing it up with cotton wool. “You’re hurt…”
“Moltke shot me,” he said like it was akin to getting a scratch. “What I want to know is how you overpowered that assassin.”
I took a deep breath. The assassin… “Jackson shot him,” I said and shook my head. “He… He had a photo of you…”
“Jackson mentioned something like that,” X mused. “I’m sorry you believed…” He hesitated and glanced at me, his expression dark.
“It was a message,” I said. “He knew about your compulsion, and he used it to send me a message… That’s how I knew…”
“Moltke believes I’m dead,” he said dryly. “And I would have been if it wasn’t for Hawkes.”
I paused. “Hawkes?”
“The old fucker dove into the Thames and fished me out,” he said, leaning against the headboard. “He took me back to his safe house and dug out the bullet.” Glancing at his shoulder, he prodded the wound that now looked ugly and red. “I messed up his stitches.”
“Hawkes…” I’d all but forgotten that I’d enlisted his help to get a message to X. Had I led him into a trap without knowing? “The meet for the stolen hard drive was another trap, wasn’t it?”
X nodded. “Couldn’t be helped. I knew what I was risking, and I went anyway.”
“Fuck.” I rubbed my eyes. “And Hawkes followed you.”
“As far as Hawkes is concerned, we’re even as it gets.” He glanced at me. “Lorelei got out of the UK safe.”
A little of the pressure weighing on my heart lifted. “Good.”
I closed my eyes for a moment and rolled away from him. He moved with me like I was a gravitational force pulling him in. I lay for a moment, feeling the pressure of X’s legs against my back.
“X…” I hesitated, not knowing how to explain the pain that had split me in two when I believed he was gone.
“I know,” he replied.
Of all the emotions swirling through me at that moment, the one I chose to grab onto was anger. X left me. X could have died. Moltke buried me alive. Moltke almost killed X. X left me. He’d promised he would never leave again, and what did he do? He left.
“You left me,” I said, beginning to grind my teeth.
“I had to leave to protect you,” he said. “It was the only thing I could do.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I spat, turning so I could see him. “You made me a promise after we escaped The Watchman. Always and forever. You and me until the end. You left and almost got yourself killed. Then I almost got taken out by a fucking assassin.” My voice began to rise, my anger getting dangerously close to overwhelming me. “I felt like dying. When I thought you’d died, I wanted to die with you.” I pushed myself to my knees, the mattress rocking. “I can’t fucking believe you let me think you were dead!” Straddling him, I jammed my palm against his gunshot wound.
His expression contorted in pain, and he grasped my wrist, flipping me back onto the bed. Pinning me down with his weight, he lowered his lips to mine.
“Always and forever, Mercy,” he murmured.
I seethed, my gaze burning into his. I wanted to tell him that he’d broken my heart and the unfaltering trust I’d placed in him. I wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt me…and he knew it.
How did I know he wouldn’t do something like this again in the name of love? I didn’t. I didn’t, but that was the risk I had taken when I’d pledged my soul to him.
“I fucking hate you for leaving me,” I hissed.
“No, you don’t,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine. “You’re angry. That’s a very different emotion to hate.”
“So you’re the emotion king now?” I scoffed. “That’s rich.”
His mouth closed over mine, his tongue wrapping greedily around mine. Despite how pissed off I was with him, my body exploded underneath his touch, and I found myself fumbling with the button on his jeans.
“I hate you,” I mumbled between kisses. “Absolutely fucking loathe you.”
“If it feels like this, then loathe as much as you like,” he replied, ridding me of my top.
He pulled my arms above my head, forcing my breasts to jut upward, and as he latched onto one, then the other, I wriggled underneath him.
“You know you were the only thing that went through my mind when I was falling…” he murmured, letting my wrists go and moving down my body.
When he fell? Oh, the river…
“I don’t remember hitting the water,” he went on, unzipping my jeans. Kissing the spot just above my underwear, he added, “I fell, I saw the water, then…” He yanked my jeans off, exposing my pussy and forcing my legs apart. “Then all I saw was you. Mercy Reid…”
I gasped as his tongue rasped the length of my most private part—the part of me that was reserved only for him, no matter how much of a fucking asshole he’d been—and sucked on my clit, hard.
“Ugh,” I grunted. “Fuck you.”
“I’m in the process of fucking you,” he replied, sliding a finger into my wetness. “I almost died, and then I almost lost you. I intend to reunite with you hard and fast, Mercy Reid.”
Like I just realized the gravity of what we’d been through in the space of a few days, my eyes opened, and I moaned loudly. “X.” He climbed up my body, his erection pressing against my opening, and an overwhelming need came over me. “Don’t leave me.”
He thrust, his cock driving deep, and I clutched him to me.
“I won’t,” he replied, his breath heavy against the curve of my jaw. “I won’t leave you again.” He pulled out and thrust again, sending a spike of pleasure racing through my body. “You and me until the end.”
His mouth found mine, his tongue tasting every inch of me as we fucked. We forged our love anew, relishing the primal connection we shared during sex, the world and its fucked up problems falling away until it was just me and X.
We’d face our next challenge sooner rather than later, but for now…we were alive and in each other’s arms. That had to count for something.
You and me until the end.
Chapter 23
X
I fucked Mercy hard, pounding into her to remind her what we shared transcended any one stupid argument…no matter the consequence.
I spilled my seed into her, coming and coming until I could give nothing more, and then fell beside her. Cradling her spent body against mine, I allowed her scent to sink into my senses until Mercy Reid was everything. She’d been through so much tonight…so much anguish. It was my fault she’d sought revenge on Moltke, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it.
“You risked yourself by going into that factory,” I said, breaking the spell our fucking had woven over us. “It was unacceptable.”
“Our entire lives are about risks,” she spat at me. “I was reacting in the only way I knew how.”
“By throwing yourself in headfirst like you did at the wharf?”
“Don’t turn this back on me,” she exclaimed. “Don’t you fucking dare make this my fault.”
“I took a calculated risk,” I drawled. “Your risk was reckless. If our lives are about risks, then we should talk about the nature of them.”
“Are you call
ing me a hypocrite?” she asked, another storm brewing.
“We’re both big fucking hypocrites,” I retorted. She jammed her finger against my shoulder, and I hissed. “I’ll never heal if you keep doing that.”
“Stop being a fucking ass, then.”
“You know me better than anyone ever has,” I said, grasping her breast and twisting her nipple. “Deep down, you understand why I do the things I do. There is always a reason.”
She hissed, arching her back and forcing her body against mine. “Don’t try to justify your shitty decisions, X. Just admit you stuffed up, and say you’re fucking sorry.”
“Admit that I was wrong?” I asked, lowering my lips against her skin. Sinking my teeth into the swell of her soft breast, I bit down hard.
She moaned as she fisted her hands into my hair and then pulled my mouth away. Before I could pin her with my weight, she flipped me over, turning the tables of power in her favor. Damn, I’d taught her one too many tricks, but I did love it when she was on top…
“Don’t,” she hissed, her eyes blazing. “You’ve had your fill of fucking me into submission for one night.”
“I haven’t fucked you for control in a very long time, Mercy Reid.”
She snorted and climbed off me, clearly hurt.
I watched with narrowed eyes as she pulled her clothes on hastily, finishing her haphazard ensemble with her boots. Opening the bedroom door, she paused, her jaw tense.
Glancing back at me, she snarled, “Leave me again and I’ll kill you myself.”
The door slammed behind her, and I was left alone to stew in the mess of my own making.
An agent never left his partner, and a man never left his woman…and I’d done both, setting of a chain reaction that could have cost the very life I was trying to protect. I’d hurt Mercy more than I ever had before…all in the name of love.
Emotions got you killed, and emotions were what saved me. I didn’t know how to balance the two, but at least I was smart enough to know I’d fucked up big time.
It should have been me in that hole.
Chapter 24
Mercy
I found my way outside to the hotel roof.
A tiny patio sat among the eaves, filled with furniture that was falling apart and puddles that had collected after the days of rain, which had pounded the city. Fuck, the word pounding. The spot between my legs that X loved the most still throbbed after he’d done just that.
Casting my gaze over the city, I couldn’t really see much. Old stone buildings blocked my view, but I could see a few lights peeking through the gaps. Jackson had really picked the shittiest, most unassuming hole London had to offer.
Closing my eyes, the panic I’d felt rising when I was stuck in that coffin began to surface again, and I shook my head. This whole mission was spiraling out of control. If X had any ideas on how to outsmart Moltke, he wasn’t sharing, but I suspected he was exactly like me. He didn’t know fuck all, either.
I rested my palms against the ledge and stared down at the car-lined street below. X was alive. I was alive. I sucked in a deep breath as my skin began to tingle and tears threatened to fall from my eyes. What was this thing I was feeling? Relief? I supposed it was.
I tensed as the cool touch of steel slid across my throat.
“You people are unbelievable,” a female voice purred in my ear.
I didn’t have to turn around to know who’d decided sneaking up on me was a good idea. I knew why she’d chosen me, because X would have just grabbed the knife, turned, and rammed it right into her gut before she could say boo. Actually, now that I thought about it, he wouldn’t have turned at all. He wouldn’t have even opened his eyes.
“Let me guess,” I declared, my emotions evening out. “Banshee.”
“I see my reputation proceeds me.”
“Only when you feel up the love of my life in a dirty alley in Berlin,” I drawled.
The knife pressed harder against my skin.
“What do you fucking want?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “I’ve already been buried alive tonight. I’ve seriously had a gutful of you people. What I wouldn’t give for a bloody mai tai and a white sandy beach.”
“We both have a problem that needs solving,” she replied, and this time, I definitely heard the hint of Russian in her accent.
“Right now, the only problem I give a fuck about is the knife at my throat. Way to go asking for a hand. Good first impression.”
Banshee laughed softly, and the knife dropped away. “You have spark. I like it.”
Turning, I took my first real life look at the mercenary known as Banshee. She was slightly taller than I was, her limbs long and willowy, her skin pale and dusted with a light spray of freckles. Her black locks mirrored my own, but from the fine line of lighter colored hair at her scalp, I could tell it wasn’t her natural color.
She flipped the knife in her hand and smiled. I mentally added ‘cocky’ to the list. Typical gun for hire bitch, then.
“Mercy Reid,” she said, sizing me up.
“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”
“The other one is here?” she asked, nodding toward the door that led back into the hotel.
“Other one?” I asked with a smirk.
“The nerdy one with the computer.”
“Oh, I see,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’ve been watching us with a bag of popcorn, providing the laugh reel to our disastrous attempts at killing the evil mastermind.” I threw my hands up into the air. “Great. All this time and you could have thrown a bone, you know?” I looked her up and down. “Providing that’s what you mean by ‘we both have a problem that needs solving’.” I air quoted her words, thoroughly fed up with her, Moltke, and especially X, the motherfucker who got shot and let me believe he was dead.
“I believed I could provide a quick end to the…situation,” she said, her lip curling in amusement. “We have come to the same conclusion, you and I. Together, I think we can find the answer, yes?”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t push you of this roof right now,” I snapped. “I’m sick of games. Why can’t you people just say what you mean?”
“You never know who is listening, Mercy Reid,” she replied smoothly. “I think we should take this elsewhere. You have company, yes?”
I narrowed my eyes, weighing up my options—shove the bitch off the edge of the roof or stop and listen to what she had to say. X and I had no more options. Our cards had played out, and here was Banshee, surfaced at last.
She shrugged at my unresponsiveness and pouted. “I could let you lead me inside with a gun to my head, but you and I both know I could disarm you before you pulled the trigger. I could have killed you while you stood up here all alone…but I didn’t. You are running out of options. It’s only a matter of time before all your friends die, so I suggest we cut the crap, as you say, and get on with it.”
“Why now?”
She shrugged again. “I can explain all the finer details once all parties are present. I do hate repeating myself.”
I didn’t have an option, and she knew it. That was the only reason she’d revealed herself, which meant either she was in the same predicament or she needed help to pull off whatever plan she had in motion. Either way, I had to let her say her piece.
I nodded once. “If you pull anything, there will be consequences.”
Banshee smiled. “But of course.”
X would chuck a pink fit when we walked in. The thought made my lips curve into a small smile. What better way to piss him off than to present him with Banshee.
I made her go first, ushering her through the door and down the narrow stairwell to our room. Unlocking the door, I paused.
“Don’t try to pull anything,” I said, giving her a final warning.
She smiled and nodded. “You’re the boss.”
Grimacing, I opened the door and stepped into the hotel room, hoping X had decided getting dressed in my absence was a good id
ea.
“Mercy, I think we need to discuss…” X appeared in the doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers that left little to the imagination, and the moment he laid eyes on Banshee, he reached for the gun he’d left on the sideboard, but I raised my hands.
“She’s with me,” I said, wishing he’d at least put on his jeans.
“Look at you,” Banshee said appreciatively, her gaze raking up and down X’s torso…and lingering too long on the bulge in the front of his boxers.
“Hey,” I snapped. “Off limits.”
She laughed and glanced back at X, who was looking none too pleased.
“I hear you got tossed in the drink,” she said.
“I wrung myself out,” he replied shortly.
She looked him up and down again and said, “I’ll say.”
“Get the fuck dressed,” I snapped at him, and then I turned to Banshee. “Get the fuck explaining.”
X disappeared into the bedroom while Banshee propped herself against the wall, playing with the knife in her hand. Fuck, was that another assassin trait? Playing with sharp objects like they were Play-Doh? Children.
“You said we both have the same problem,” I said, prodding Banshee into talking.
She nodded. “Moltke. He has been a thorn in my side these past days. A thorn I thought I’d gotten rid of a long time ago.”
“A long time ago?” X asked as he reappeared—this time, fully clothed.
“Our story was supposed to end,” she mused. “But he is like a woman. He doesn’t know when to let go.”
I frowned, the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. Or at least, I thought they were.
“He’s doing all of this for Vesper,” I said. “Revenge for her death. We never saw evidence, but he said he saw her die…”
Banshee snorted as if I’d said the most ironic thing in the world. “The real Vesper is very much alive,” she said absently.
“Then where is she?” I asked. “If Moltke can see…”
Banshee grimaced.
