by Sarah Fine
It disappeared in an instant, and I sagged in my chair. “That’s pretty powerful,” I said between panting breaths. “I couldn’t shake it even though I knew it was fake.”
Theresa nodded. “It will stop anyone in his tracks and give you at least a few minutes to run. Volodya’s power in the city is not what it once was, but there are still many who work for him. He might be alone in the hotel room, but he will not be alone at the Savoy. Remember that.”
“Couldn’t forget it if I wanted to,” I muttered. With only an hour until our meeting, things had gotten real. Asa was counting on me to be tough. And dangerous. I needed serious help with that last one.
With sweat beading on her forehead, Theresa picked up the powder compact with gloved hands. “Just open it up and boom. If you’re the last one to touch it, you control it. It won’t affect you.” She grinned. “And the best thing about it is that it’s camouflaged in conduit juice, so—”
“Wait wait wait. Conduit juice?”
“Ludmilla’s.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Ludmilla’s what?”
“Do you really want to know?”
After thinking about it for a second, I shook my head. “But I’ll take some gloves.”
“Good call.”
“What’s conduit juice supposed to do, though? Conduits don’t have magic.”
“Right, and their bodies conduct it rapidly. But their cells don’t absorb it. That’s why it doesn’t affect them. So if you cover a relic in their juice . . .”
“It conceals the magic?”
“Exactly. No one except a very skilled sensor is going to detect the power inside, even someone holding a magic-sensing relic—unless you open it. So keep it closed tightly until you want the room to go up in flames.” She set the compact on the table.
“Asa never told me that,” I said. “I didn’t know you could use conduit, um, fluids to cover magic.”
“He may not know. I only discovered it by accident.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what that accident was. “And we all know you’re not in the habit of sharing your knowledge.”
She gave me a sour look. “Just remember that if you’re running with Asa, he’ll think he’s on fire, too. You’ll have to help him.”
I stood up. “Always.” I pulled the gloves on and picked up the compact, then slipped it into the pocket of my coat. I glanced at Theresa’s watch. “I guess I’d better get going.”
She let out a long breath. “I’ll be waiting at the Solntsevo flat. From there I can get us out of the city. Out of the country by morning.” She pulled a metal box off the shelf and handed it to me. “Please don’t open that until you’re up there.”
It was the Ekstazo sex relic that had started all this, and even though it was encased in lead, it was still making Theresa tremble. “You got it.” I tucked the box into the shoulder bag she’d given me and walked over to the ladder that led to the surface.
“Mattie, wait. There’s something . . .” When I turned, she opened her mouth to say something more, then closed it. “Never mind. It’s not important right now. Just—good luck.”
“Thanks.” I made my way up the ladder, my heart drumming its determination. I reached the top and emerged behind the thick screen of shrubbery, my only light coming from the stark moon directly above me. After closing the thick wooden door to the ladder below, I opened the box and pulled out the cube containing the potent Ekstazo sexual magic. Technically, in this form, I could use this magic on anyone I wanted . . . but after thinking about what it had done to Asa, I knew it probably wasn’t the best idea unless I had a darn good escape route. I put the unpackaged relic back in my bag.
I walked up the street, the gold dome of the Orthodox church on one side, a vast park near the river on the other, and reached Red Square within a few minutes. It astounded me that Theresa had managed to hide in plain sight. But as I thought about her craftiness, her secrets, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d become allies with priests who rejected magic, who wouldn’t betray her to Volodya. She’d engaged the people Volodya had tossed aside, who he had used and broken and discarded.
Despite the late hour, there were still people out and about as I walked past Lenin’s mausoleum and headed for yet another large cathedral at the edge of the square. I paid attention, acutely aware that I was carrying an extremely valuable piece of magic. But no one gave me a second look. I turned right when I reached the end of the square and followed a narrow pedestrian road past designer boutiques and restaurants. Really, Moscow was a beautiful city—I would have enjoyed hanging out here under better circumstances. Finally, I reached a busy intersection and marched up the block.
Just as I made the final turn for the Savoy, a taxi slowed and rolled along next to me. The window slid down, and the driver, a young man with a short, dark beard, leaned out. “Can I take you somewhere?” he asked, his accent barely there.
“No, thanks,” I said, walking a little faster.
“I’ll give you a discount,” he said. “Anywhere you want to go.”
I shook my head and increased my pace again, peering up ahead. Theresa had said the Savoy was right up there . . .
“Come on, lady. My fare is good—”
“Dude, no,” I said. “I’m—” I gasped as I felt something hard press against my ribs.
“You’re going to get in the car,” said a voice from behind me. American. Familiar. “And you’re going to do it right now.”
I looked over my shoulder—right into the eyes of a man who had tried to kill me the last time we’d met. “Keenan.”
He smiled. “Hi, Mattie. In the car. I’d hate to shoot you.”
“No you wouldn’t,” I said, my voice unsteady with fear. My hand crept to my pocket that held the compact, but his fingers closed over my wrist, bruising.
“I won’t hurt you unless you give me reason to.” He glanced around us and edged even closer to me. “Now get in the car, sweetheart. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
I did as he said, ducking into the backseat of the taxi. He slid in after me and shut the door, then holstered the gun he’d had pressed to my back. “Drive,” he said to the guy behind the wheel.
“What do you want?” I asked as we rolled past the Savoy. My fists clenched. I had fifteen minutes before my scheduled meeting. Asa might be in the building right now.
“One of my sources told me Volodya would be out of his box tonight and that there was a powerful relic in play.” He shifted in his seat and glanced at my bag. “And now I know they were telling the truth.”
I scooted against the window. “You’re not a magic sensor.”
He pulled a pen out of his breast pocket. “But this is.”
I clutched the bag against my chest, realizing that he hadn’t taken the compact from me, which meant he couldn’t sense the magic in it. “So you want to take custody of this Ekstazo relic.”
“If it keeps Volodya from exploiting and oppressing hundreds of women, then the answer is yes. That’s my job. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s desperate for the cash. Denying him that moneymaker will make him even more vulnerable.”
“Vulnerable.”
“His empire is crumbling. Rats are jumping ship, left and right.”
I thought back to Volodya’s dank spider hole, his edgy, tense young agents. Nothing like Frank Brindle’s Las Vegas stronghold, that was for sure. “You think you can take him down?”
“Tonight, if all goes well.”
“But I can’t give this relic to you.” My thoughts spun—there had to be a way out of this.
He arched an eyebrow. “How are you going to stop me?”
“Well, I can’t. I know that. But I need your help. Maybe we can help each other.”
He sat back, looking intrigued. “You want to deal with me?”
“Volodya has Asa,” I said quietly. “He kidnapped him in London and brought him here to punish him for stealing this magic in the first place.” I patt
ed the bag. “I’m going to trade this for his freedom.”
Keenan’s brow furrowed. “Asa? He’s here?”
“Yeah. And I know he—I know you—” I bit my lip as his blue-eyed gaze turned dark. “I thought you might be willing to help get him back.”
“He strangled me with a pair of suspenders.”
“I know. But he didn’t kill you. And he could have.”
Keenan looked away quickly, aiming his gaze out the window. “I should have known better anyway,” he muttered.
I couldn’t disagree, but I knew better than to say that out loud. “You still care about him.”
He let out a strained chuckle. “It’s that obvious?”
“I care about him, too,” I said gently.
“I know.” He rubbed his chest, and I once again remembered he was an emotion sensor like Volodya. “You have my sympathy, Mattie.” His voice had turned bitter. “Because nothing with Asa ever ends well.”
Which was my worst fear, but one I wouldn’t allow to stop me now. “I agreed to give this relic to Volodya in exchange for Asa’s freedom. If you want to deal with Asa directly, you can. But help me get him back first.”
“I had no intelligence that Asa was even in this part of the world. Last I heard he was in Barcelona.”
That had been three weeks ago. Now I knew how close the Headsmen had gotten to us then. “We were. But then we stole the relic and went to London. That’s where he was taken. Volodya said he hadn’t brought him back to Moscow, though, which might be why you weren’t aware of it.”
He nodded, then spoke to the driver. “We need to shake our network a little harder. I don’t like to miss stuff like this. And head back to the Savoy.”
My heart leaped. “You’re going to help me?”
He turned back to me, a sly smile on his face. “That all depends, Mattie.”
“On?”
“How much you’re going to help me.”
I skittered into the lobby of the Savoy only a few minutes late. Walking between two massive statues of some half-naked dudes holding the ceiling up, I approached the check-in desk. “I’m here to meet the boss,” I said quietly.
The young woman immediately nodded, picked up her phone, and made a call. After a few moments of rapid-fire Russian, she hung up. “This way,” she said.
I followed her down a hallway past the elevators to the guest rooms, to a smaller elevator with its own alcove. She summoned it, and when I stepped inside, she used a key to unlock a panel, on which she pushed number three before closing it up again. “It will bring you back to the lobby when you are finished,” she told me.
I stepped aboard, working on slowing my breath. Keenan had promised me backup. He’d said he already had agents in position within the hotel because he’d known Volodya would be here with the magic tonight. Apparently he had a double agent inside, someone who had risked her life to get him the information. He could have simply taken the relic and probably disappeared me or whatever they’d done to Arkady, but instead he’d agreed to let me use it to trade for Asa. The catch: I had to help him take down Volodya once I had.
Now, in addition to the compact, I carried a tiny pen, similar to Keenan’s sensing relic. This one didn’t have magic, though. One click and it was just a pen. Two clicks, though, would dispense a hefty dose of liquid Rohypnol.
Keenan wanted me to freaking roofie the guy so he wouldn’t sense anyone coming for him and so he wouldn’t call for help as the Headsmen strode in to carry him away for interrogation. I didn’t think bosses were usually treated that way, but it seemed like Keenan had some kind of beef with Volodya, maybe because of what Arkady had done to the Headsmen in Virginia. They were probably still recovering from the slaughter of so many of their agents.
Having never drugged someone before, I was dubious about this plan, particularly because the last time I’d been in Volodya’s presence, I hadn’t gotten within fifteen feet of the guy. I hadn’t even gotten a good look at his face—it was possible he could walk right past me without me realizing it was him . . . though I recalled his lean silhouette, the snakelike way he had moved. It had been enough to tell me that although Volodya must have been in his fifties or early sixties, he was far from being a feeble old man. There was no way I could overpower him physically, so I would have to find a way to get close enough to this terrifying man to use speed and sneakiness. I was ready to take that risk, though. Heck, I would have agreed to dress up in a toga and do the cha-cha with Volodya if that was what it took to get Asa back.
The elevator door slid open to the third floor, and I stepped into a corridor warmly lit with flickering wall sconces. A door at one end of the hallway indicated a stairwell, and a door at the other end was open, revealing a darkened room. Knowing Volodya might sense anything amiss, I focused on Asa and what he might need once I got him back. Would he be addicted to Ekstazo again? Would he have to wean himself off? No matter what shape he was in, I would be at his side every step of the way. The protective shield slid into place over my heart, ready for battle. Determined and calm.
I held on tightly to the bag containing the relic as I reached the doorway to what turned out to be a spacious suite lit only by a single candle on the windowsill. “Hello?” I peered at the darkest corners of the space, expecting to see the glowing embers of a cigarette. I could certainly smell the smoke.
“You are late,” Volodya said, his voice drifting to me from what I assumed was the bedroom, its door half-closed, the chamber also lit with candles, judging from the flickering patterns along the doorframe.
“Taxi driver took a wrong turn.”
“Hmm.”
I glanced around, looking for some sign that Asa might be here. “I have the relic you want,” I said. “I’m holding up my end of the deal.”
He was silent for a few moments. “This is the truth.”
“Yeah. So . . . where’s Asa?”
“He will be here soon.” His fingers curled around the door. “And you are nervous. Why?”
“Haven’t we already discussed this? You’re kind of scary.” I clutched the roofie pen. “And it doesn’t help that I haven’t even met you face-to-face.”
“Because I am the monster in the dark,” he said quietly. “There is nothing more frightening than the unknown, is there?”
“And you enjoy having that effect,” I guessed.
He chuckled. “Indeed. But there is more than fear inside you.” The door swung open and he emerged, moving like a predator in the shadows toward a lamp next to a wooden desk. “You and I will get to know each other better before we continue.”
“Not much to know,” I said, my body starting to ping with uncertainty—there was something about his stride that was eerily familiar. I took a step backward, toward the hallway, as if that were a safer place to be. “But I will tell you that . . .” My voice trailed off as he switched on the light and lifted his head.
He had been wrong. There was something more frightening than the unknown.
His face was angular, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. Add to that his gray eyes, and he looked for all the world like a wolf in human form. My heart, so shielded under the thick covering of my determination to protect Asa, sped into a frantic rhythm as I took in his appearance, the shape of his eyes, his nose, his mouth . . .
“I am not what you expected,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing.
“I . . .” It came out as nothing more than a helpless whisper. My mind reeled, desperate to conceal a new, devastating truth.
I was looking into the eyes of the most dangerous man in Russia. I knew full well he was cruel and that he held my life—and Asa’s life—in his hands.
And I was also sure he was Asa’s father.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“You’re younger than I expected,” I said, exhaling a shaky breath.
He inhaled, his nostrils flaring, and then smiled. “And now you’re lying.”
“Okay, fine. You look familiar, and obviously it startl
ed me.” What had Asa said? He was born in August, only eight months after his mother had showed up at a New Year’s party in her hometown. Only eight months after she renewed her acquaintance with Don Ward, who she married less than two months later. Shotgun wedding, he’d told me. I was born early.
I’d once seen a picture of Don Ward, a proud father posing with Ben, who had just propelled the football team to a winning season. The man was stocky and thickly built, like Ben. His face was broad, not angular like Asa’s. The two brothers had the same eyes, and both were relatively tall, but the similarity ended there, really, both outside and in.
Had Don known Asa wasn’t his son?
Had Asa ever suspected?
Was this why Theresa had run away in the first place?
Volodya’s eyes were riveted on me, and I could almost feel his power slipping across my skin. “Familiar.” It was drawn out, like he was savoring it as it left his mouth.
I offered a weak smile. “Hasn’t that ever happened to you? You meet someone, and you could swear you’ve seen them before—even though you never have?”
He came closer, moving with a lanky grace that made me ache. “I suppose. But you look more like you’ve just seen a ghost, dear.”
“I think I just have.” Theresa had some serious explaining to do. Did she think I wouldn’t see it? Did she have any idea that I had long since memorized Asa’s face, or how many times I had dreamed about it, so close to mine?
I looked Volodya over. Did he know? He certainly didn’t act like he had any idea. Would he be kinder to Asa if he knew?
Volodya’s gaunt face was a mask of fascination. “Oh my. This is exquisite.”
“When can I see Asa?”
“As soon as my agents arrive with him. Shortly before you arrived they informed me they were just outside the city. Would you like a drink?”
Normally, I would have turned him down, but instead I smiled—despite the new confusion raging inside me. “Just a small one, maybe.”
He grinned and got to his feet, striding over to the bar. “You are very jittery tonight. What could be on your mind?”
