Dasha dodges the first attack.
Bones comes at her again, delivering a precise hit to her wrist. Dasha’s Walther PPK drops to the ground. Bones kicks it away.
“Isn’t that awesome,” Deveraux says. “You get to watch him kill her, live and in color. Sweet, huh?”
“You have no idea what she can do, do you?” Shadow is the best. “No way in hell hammer-dude will win this one.”
“We’ll see,” Deveraux grumbles.
Dasha evades several hits. She’s so light on her feet, it looks as if she’s dancing with Bones. “C’mon.” She winks at the muscular giant. “You can do better.”
Anger colors his face a dark red. “I’m going to kill you, bitch.” An inch to the left and his hammer would stick in Dasha’s brain.
My heart beats like crazy. I wanted Shadow dead for so long. Now, I just want her to win, to kill Bones and run for the hills.
“You’re not as tough as you think you are.” Bones lifts the hammer above his head, going for a kill strike.
Dasha saw it coming before he knew what he was about to do. She drops to one knee, slams the edge of her hand into the hollow of Bones’s knee, and watches him go down. “You,” she says, lingering over him. “Are an embarrassment to our profession.”
He jumps up. “I’ll show you—”
Dasha’s palm lands on his chest.
He trembles backward.
His eyes go wide.
He hits the fucking ground, his heart no longer beating.
Commotio cordis—her favorite method.
Deveraux’s body shakes. He’s aware there’s no way out of this. It’s why he no longer points his gun at me. He points it at Dasha. I have no idea how good a shot he is, but from such short distance, anyone could hit the target.
“You’re not going to kill me,” he half-shouts, finger moving to the trigger.
He’s going to kill her. I know it. Dasha knows it, too. There’s no fear in her eyes. Just regret. She’ll never get to avenge her sister. Deveraux will get away with her murder. I have no doubt the sick motherfucker will continue to ruin the lives of other girls, too. It’s who he is, what he’s made of.
What drives my next moves, I couldn’t say. Maybe Dasha’s eyes. Maybe the images of her snuggling against me. Or maybe just the reality that I get her, understand her need for revenge like no other. Whatever it is, it makes me grab Deveraux’s wrist and bend it to the breaking point. He’s disarmed in a heartbeat.
He’s on his knees, staring up at me.
I pick up his gun, no fucking clue what’s next.
“Give me the gun,” Dasha aka Shadow aka Natalia urges. “Give me the gun and walk away, soldier. It’s not too late for you.”
Let fate run its course, Karl said. What would you do if this was your sister or mother? I’d kill the men responsible. But can I walk away and allow Shadow to take another life? “It’s not too late for you either.”
She laughs. “You don’t believe that, soldier, do you?”
“Killing Deveraux won’t bring her back.”
“I know.” She cocks a brow at the motherfucker. “But it’ll feel real good.”
“You were nothing compared to Elena,” Deveraux spits at Dasha. “She was the best fuck I ever had. My slave, all day, every day.”
“Shut up,” I yell, watching Dasha tense. We both know she doesn’t need a gun to kill him.
“That body.” Deveraux’s head falls back. He moans like a pig. “Such a tight pussy.” He meets Dasha’s gaze. “Did you know she was a virgin?”
“I said shut up.”
“So fucking pure.” Deveraux shoots her a disgusted look. “Not a whore like you.”
Dasha laughs. “Oh, Will. You’re so pathetic, I almost feel sorry for you.” She shakes her head. “The only reason anyone touches you is because they want your daddy. Angela, Jennifer—they’d leave you in a heartbeat if they could suck your daddy’s dick. But,” she narrows her eyes, “you already knew that. It’s why you liked my sister. You knew she wouldn’t want your daddy because she didn’t want you either.”
“You’re a fucking whore,” he barks. “Just like your sister.”
Dasha balls her fists.
“Did you know she screamed your name when I first pushed into her tight pussy?” Deveraux smiles. “She thought you’d come to save her, that you’re some kind of hero. It took a few fucks until she realized you didn’t give a shit about her.”
Dasha’s eyes are narrowed, her shoulders straight, her fists iron clad—she’s about to kill him. I recognize that look. It’s the same countless soldiers and CIA operatives wore when they murdered for their country.
“Look at me, Dasha.” I close the distance between us. “He’s playing you. He wants you to kill him, spare him the attention he’ll get when the world learns who he truly is.” I cast him a disgusted look. “A monster who preys on little girls.” I saw the fear in his eyes when the video played at his new club. He was petrified people would learn the truth—that he was the one who bought Elena.
“She was just a little girl,” Dasha whispers absently. “She never harmed anyone.”
Careful not to startle her, I rest my hand on her shoulder. “I know.” I sigh. “And he will pay, but not like this. Death is too easy for guys like him.” They deserve prison mates who show them how loved child abusers are in the can.
Her fists unclench. “Your president will never—”
“My president,” I say, voice sharp. “Will have to answer for his own crimes.” The death of my brother, his team, and Eva and Zara Elbaz. “You can trust me, I will make them both pay.” If it’s the last thing I do.
She considers my offer when a woman shouts, “Gun. He has a gun.” It’s Tiffany. She’s in one of the cells, very much alive, and looking at—
Deveraux aims at me. Pulls the trigger.
BANG.
Blood splatters my shirt. Not my blood. Dasha’s blood. She threw herself between the bullet and me.
The sight of her on the cold ground, covered in crimson, flips a switch. The next moments are a blur of me aiming at Deveraux, and me pulling the trigger.
He hits the floor, eyes wide open—dead.
I drop the gun.
Tiffany comes running. She looks from Deveraux to me, then tends to Dasha. “She’s losing a lot of blood,” my assistant barks. “Give me your shirt, Boulder. We need to stop the bleeding.”
I rip the fabric and hand it to her, dropping next to Shadow—the killer who took a bullet for me. The woman I never suspected. The bullet went through her shoulder, missing her heart about an inch or so.
“What the fuck did you do?” she chokes out.
What did I do? What did she do taking a bullet for me?
“Markus.” She lifts her head, ogling Deveraux’s body. “What. Did. You. Do?”
I killed America’s First Son.
I fucking shot William Deveraux—the very man I was hired to protect.
And for whom?
My gaze darts to Dasha. The assassin I was supposed to kill.
Tiffany ties my shirt around Shadow’s bleeding shoulder. “She needs a doctor, now.”
“No.” She tries to push herself up. “No doctor. I’m okay.”
Tiffany raises a brow at her. “Lady, you might be a super-assassin, but you are not okay.”
Dasha or Shadow or whatever smiles. “What do you care?” A fresh burst of pain hardens her face. “I’m a killer.”
“Yeah, but you dragged my ass into that cell.” Tiffany sighs. “I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”
“You saved Tiffany?” She’s been doing that a lot lately. Saving people, I mean. Me, the merchandise, Tiffany.
“I…” She trails off.
“Boulder?” Tiffany pulls me aside. “Listen, you have to get out of here. Both of you. It’s just a matter of time before someone catches wind of this.”
“You want me to run?” I will do no such thing.
She frowns. “You ki
lled the president’s son.”
“Because he tried to kill me.”
“Do you think anyone will believe your side of the story?” she counters.
“You were there.”
Tiffany shakes her head. “They won’t believe me either, and you know it.”
“So I’m supposed to just run? Be a refugee?” That’s not who I am. “And what about you? What’s going to happen to you?”
Tiffany winks. “I’ll be okay.” She holds her big rock up. “I have someone waiting for me, remember?”
Dasha is on her feet, swaying like a flag. “She’s right, soldier. They’ll kill you for this.”
I shake my head. “I’m not r—”
BAM.
My head hurts. I turn and see the stone in Tiffany’s hand. She knocked me—
Black.
“I need your help.”
Shadow/Dasha/Natalia
Boulder’s assistant is a woman after my own heart. She knew a guy like him would never run, so she took a brick and knocked him out cold. “Can you get him out of the country?” she asks, Boulder lying between us.
I can’t, but I know someone who can. “Probably.”
She studies me closely. “You like him, don’t you?”
I say nothing.
“Look.” She narrows her eyes. “You saved our lives. I have to believe you’re not as evil as London made you out to be. All I’m asking you is to make sure he,” she points at him, “will never set foot on American soil again.”
I ogle the man who killed my sister’s abuser, the soldier who tossed his values in the trash for a monster like me. “I can do that.” He deserves to live. “The CIA, however, will hunt him down regardless of where he hides.”
She smiles wickedly. “Not if they think he’s dead.”
Tiffany has a plan. A good one. “You’re going to make him a victim of Shadow, aren’t you?”
“I’m the only one who lives to tell the tale.” She scans the corpses. “You don’t happen to have a lighter, do you?”
I hand her some matchboxes.
“Thanks.” She pulls out her phone. “Now, get him the hell out of here. I’m going to burn this place to the ground and call the cops.”
I drag him out of the coast guard building—fighting the pain in my shoulder just like Nikolai taught me—and hotwire a car.
Then I shoot Q a text.
Me: I need your help.
Q: Anything.
Me: I’m on my way. Be there ASAP.
I don’t wait for her reply. Q won’t turn me down. She’s loyal and the only person who can help Boulder get out of the country undetected. Girl’s got connections.
I hit the gas pedal, not bothering with the fact Tiffany has seen my face. Let President Deveraux send his best, I will take them all out. Or die trying.
• • •
The moon’s full and bloated when we reach Q’s compound. A self-sufficient community in the middle of nowhere. It’s one of many under Q’s watch. Back in the day, she only used them for her people. Nowadays, it’s like walking into a puppy rescue shelter, lost souls looking for protection wherever you step. Q, she’s their queen. In every sense of the word.
Boulder came to a little while ago. He doesn’t talk or move. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s pissed. I would be, too.
“Wait here,” I say, killing the engine.
Not a word.
I meet Q halfway. Like always, she’s dressed in leather pants, biker boots, and her daddy’s old biker jacket. No one would assume she has a degree from MIT. “What the hell is he doing here?” She tilts her chin at Boulder. “And,” her gaze darts to my shoulder, “what the fuck happened to you?”
“This,” I point at my shoulder, “is just a scratch. And he,” I eyeball Boulder, “killed Deveraux.”
Her eyes almost pop. “He did what?”
Yeah, I have a hard time wrapping my head around it, too. Boulder, the guy who is honor incarnate, shot his president’s son for—
Me?
I ignore the warmth spreading in my chest and focus on what has to be done. “Can you get him out of the country?”
Q stares at me. “You want me to get the man who tried to kill you for years to safety?” She shakes her head. “Are you insane? He saw your face.”
“I know.” I just don’t care. I never planned a tomorrow. So who gives a shit if he decides to kill me? There are worse ways to go than by his hands.
“Natalia, you—”
“Do it,” I order, heading back to the car to get Boulder.
He doesn’t resist when I pull him out of the passenger seat. He doesn’t even look at Q when we stalk past her into the farmhouse. He’s that mad.
The hallway is filled with laughter.
Boulder stops by the dining room, where Q’s rescues are enjoying supper. Amongst them are Mariposa, Antonia, and Mariposa’s grandmother.
Wait, you thought I killed them?
They weren’t on my list so absolutely no need to off them. I told the Latina what her boyfriend was really up to. Once she saw who Alexei truly was, she voluntarily offered her help to take him down. We recorded little Antonia’s cries, picked up her grandmother, and Q’s men drove her up here.
It’s not Mariposa and Antonia who catch Boulder’s attention though. It’s the little girl with the Hello Kitty shirt currently running toward me. “Nat,” she cheers happily, throwing her arms around my hip. “You’re back.”
I pat her back. “Hey, little one.” Getting down, I smile. “How’ve you been?”
Boulder’s eyes gleam with recognition. “Is that…” His jaw drops. “Is that—”
“Why don’t you go eat your dinner?” I say to the little one. “I’ll come find you later.”
She hops back to the dining room, joining the others.
Boulder won’t take his eyes off her. “Dasha, tell me that wasn’t—”
“C’mon.” I pull him up the stairs, not in the mood to explain why she’s here. He could get the wrong idea about me.
“Stay here.” I open the door to my room. He can sleep here tonight. Tomorrow, he’ll be sipping cocktails in a country that won’t extradite him if push comes to shove. “I’ll check in on you later. Get you some food and stuff.” But first, I need to fix the hole in my shoulder.
“What do you want, Natalia Petrova?”
Markus
I push the reality aside that Tiffany knocked me out and Dasha…sorry, I mean Natalia, abducted me against my will and walk back out into the hallway.
I have to know if it’s her. I just have to.
“I always knew,” a female voice floats through the darkness.
“What did you know?” Dasha aka Natalia grumbles.
I still want to know if the kid downstairs is who I believe her to be, but I also want to hear what they’re saying. Careful not to alert them to my presence, I move toward the last door on the right, spying through the tiny crack.
“That you’ve got it bad for him,” Blonde Leather Chick says. She sits on a chair. Across from her is Natalia, stitching herself up. The woman doesn’t even blink when she pushes the needle through her skin. Impressive. Stitches hurt like a motherfucker.
“Don’t be stupid,” Natalia says. “I don’t—”
“Stop lying,” Leather Chick cuts her off. “We both know he’s the only one you ever showed mercy.”
“He’s not.” Natalia grabs the scissors and cuts the thread. “Mariposa, Antonia, Eva, Zara—I didn’t kill them either, did I?”
So the little girl downstairs is Zara Elbaz. I knew it. I fucking knew it.
Leather Chick grins. “Fine, let me rephrase. He’s the only guy you ever showed mercy.”
Natalia gulps down some vodka before emptying the remaining bottle on her wound. She flinches. Just for a second though. “What does it matter?” she asks, pressing a gauze pad on her shoulder. “Boulder hates me.”
She thinks I hate her?
Leather Chick grins. “He k
illed the president’s son for you.”
“I’m still a monster,” Natalia counters.
I thought Shadow was a monster. But—
“Who’s there?”
Shit. Why the hell did I lean against that door?
Natalia is on her feet, moving toward the door. I step inside before she catches me spying on them.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she barks.
I should apologize for being a dick, but first things first. “You said you killed Zara and Eva Elbaz.” It’s not a question, but I still expect an answer.
Leather Chick slams her palms on her thighs and gets up. “I’m going to leave you two to it.” She’s out of the room in a heartbeat.
“You said you killed them,” I repeat.
She comes nearer and shrugs. “I lied.”
I don’t understand. “Why would you do that?” That lie cost her a lot.
She sighs heavily. “Because your government wanted her dead, and my government wanted to use her as a bargaining chip.” She averts her gaze. “I know what it’s like to be used. She didn’t deserve that.”
I think of the file. She was taken from the orphanage when she was just a kid—a kid like Zara. They starved her, tortured her. They turned her into a monster. Yet, she had enough humanity left to save Zara, to save me. “What about her mom?”
Dasha averts her gaze. “Died a few months ago. Breast Cancer.”
I study her long and hard. “Dasha?”
“Natalia,” she corrects me sheepishly.
“Natalia.” I nod. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can try.”
“Why did you save me, but not Luke?” I saw what she’s capable of. She could have taken that sniper out before any of my team had died.
“Because…” She trails off.
“What?” I push, not ready to let this go.
“I don’t know.” She throws her hands in the air. “I just knew I had to save you, okay? I didn’t even think about saving the others.” That’s probably the most honest thing she’s said since we met.
Shadow Page 29
