Panic spreads through my veins at Nickolas’s paralyzing warning and subsequent mysterious prediction. This is a new sensation. I’m usually so controlled nothing fazes me. Discovering my mother’s resurrection and attendance in this very building shakes my walls to rubble.
Nickolas passes my hand to Alexei, who in turn tucks it beneath his arm. I can’t feel my body as it’s tossed from one man to another. It’s too familiar when it comes to Alexei.
“You look wonderful,” Alexei offers, whirling us toward a priest older than the church itself. I don’t believe him for a millisecond. Every other word from the man drips with sarcasm and deceit.
Instead, I nod once and face the priest as he begins his droning speech in Russian. If I wasn’t distracted, I might have listened to what the priest is spewing. I haven’t been to the Orthodox Church since I was a child.
My nose itches, but I refrain from scratching it. The heavy dress makes me ache all over, yet I can’t fidget without a sharp pinch from my wonderful groom.
Shuffling of feet meets my ears, but when I attempt to glance over my shoulder, Alexei pinches my hand. Shit! That hurts! Did he grow out his nails solely for our wedding? With my luck, he’ll claw my eyes out next.
Alexei tugs my hand, disguising his next act as affection. I bite the inside of my cheek when he twists one of my fingers backwards. I guess I deserve this since I didn’t look toward the priest as he not so kindly demanded. I need to see what’s going on back there. I hate being blindsided.
Pressing Alexei’s wrath, my eyes flash over the fur-clad heads behind us. Eddie’s nowhere to be found, but I spot Alena. Well, the woman claiming to be my mother. She’s making her way to the front of the church. Her face remains hidden, but it’s her. The movements are ghostlike and spooky. Just like Alena.
“Turn around!” Alexei hisses, digging his nails deeper.
I catch his gaze and feel my insides shudder. He hates me with every fiber of his hell-clad soul. A mutual feeling. That’s odd, I didn’t think we had any. I oblige, but only before I hear the click of a gun. This is the moment I’ve been dreading, but also anticipating.
Before I can blink, a sputtering of bullets fills my ears. I fall to my knees, unsure where the shots are aimed. Where are my knives when I need them? I pry my eyes from the floor. Fearful screams echo in the massive cathedral, but I can’t worry about the spectators. I need to get away and fast. Plus, if you come to a skhodka wedding, you should expect some form of drama. This one just so happens to involve weapons.
Peering up, I notice Alexei search his body for his gun. Unfortunately, he finds it. Oh, I need to move! A fresh wave of shots spits through the air as I slink down the altar steps. My dress rips as I slide, but it’s worth it. The thing’s hideous anyhow.
Angry voices spew Russian curses, but as long as they steer clear of me, I’m fine with it. I inspect the crowd. Half of them are hunkered down in the pews while the other half yield guns and shoot like mad men. Typical men. Can’t solve things the diplomatic way so they start firing at each other.
At last, I find shelter in the front bench when I hear Alexei yell to me to “get my ass up there”. I ignore him and shimmy under the pew. The dress doesn’t allow me to make it to the other side.
“Fucking dress!” I spew under my breath. A gun goes off and splinters the bench I’m stuck under. I toss him a repulsed glare. His stint with death hasn’t reformed his aim. He’s a rotten shot even after cheating a grave.
“Mishka, get back here!” Alexei commands, taking another shot.
That bullet hits the bulk of my dress, but also ricochets off the tulle and skids along my leg. If it’s bleeding, I don’t know. All I feel is the adrenaline course through my blood.
“You son of a bitch!” He offers me a haughty grin. This is his form of foreplay. The bastard is trying to kill me. He’s shooting at me! That’s it; I’m going to obliterate him.
I yank the gown and hear the resulting rip. The dress is in tatters, but somehow hanging on. Just like Alexei. Another bullet whizzes by, this time barely missing my face. The fucker is pissing me off.
Scouring the floor for a discarded gun, I spy one from a fallen comrade, but it’s out in the open. I doubt I can grab it before Alexei gets another round off. He’s a bad shot, but not that bad.
I don’t know where any of the men claiming to care for me are, but I don’t have time to wait for them. I take care of myself. I don’t need a man.
Crawling under another pew, I run into a bullet riddled soldier. I search his body, but find no firearm. I curse aloud, but then think of another way the man can be useful. The resounding thuds of falling bodies keep me on task. I fling the scratchy veil off my head, now easier to see without the thick screen.
Grabbing the man beneath his arms, I pull him up. Bullets immediately zoom into him, making me stagger backwards. He’s heavier than I alleged. “Damn borsch.” All the bullets peppering him aren’t helping my task either.
“Ready to give up, Mishka?” Alexei torments.
“Fuck you!” I holler back and concentrate on my dead-weight plan. He’s almost too much for me to handle, but I muster my strength and trudge on. I need to get to a gun before Alexei closes in on me. The continuous firing keeps him at bay, but not for long. Eventually, they’ll have to reload.
“Rory, what the hell are you doing?” Eddie’s voice yells across the church.
I peek over where his voice emanates from and almost drop the man shielding bullets. Eddie is wielding two massive guns like baby rattles. The weapons spit bullets like sunflower seeds and hit their targets with deadly accuracy.
“Holy hell, that’s hot!” I let out a shaky breath at the sight of him. He has the physique for artilleries, but seeing him completely decked out in ammunition kind of turns me on. Don’t judge. I’m only human.
He yells my name again, snapping me out of the trance his appearance traps me in. “Trying not to die.” Approaching the discarded gun at long last, I stoop down and clutch it as more bullets hit the dead body. A whoosh of air whizzes by my cheek as another bullet flies for me.
“You’re being crazy,” Eddie scorns, closer this time. I spot him ten feet away. His fingers are trigger happy, but I’m grateful for it. He’s holding off Alexei. I always knew he was good for something. “We need to get out of here.”
I fire off a round at Alexei’s bodyguards, dropping one of them. “That’d be ideal,” I shout then push the body away. It yields a minimum of three dozen shells. Poor bastard. Good thing he was already dead. I hope.
Eddie grabs my hand and pulls me into the pew sandwich he’s in. It’s rather cozy here. “Are you all right?” he asks, searching my body for wounds. “Did you get hit?”
I can’t figure this man out. One minute he and the FBI are chasing me, and the next he’s saving me from a mafia marriage. What the hell is wrong with him?
A round of shots goes off, and Eddie buries my face in his chest. I close my eyes and inhale. Even covered in gunshot residue, he smells like my best dream come true.
In that moment, I don’t hear the volleys claiming lives or the screams of pain. I only hear his rhythmic heartbeat. Surely, he isn’t protecting me to turn me over to the authorities. Could he?
“Let’s go!” Eddie barks, yanking me away from my bliss. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the back of the cathedral.
Ducking whenever I feel a draft of air at my nape, I follow his long strides. When we reach the door, I recognize the red stain on Eddie’s shirt. The wound doesn’t look promising. “You’re hit!” I point to his chest, but he ignores me.
“I’m fine. If we don’t leave now, I can’t keep you out of harm’s way,” Eddie admits. “The FBI will be here any minute.”
I stop walking as he finishes. “Wait, I thought you brought them with you.” His curt headshake gives me an immediate answer. “Okay, do you want to tell me why not?”
Eddie shoves me out of the way and pulls the trigger. I watch the intruder wi
th a kill shot to the head slump to the floor. He reloads his gun methodically. “I couldn’t let you marry his filth.” He nods to the sanctuary. Aww, he does care!
Glancing to the smoke-filled room, I wonder if Alexei’s still alive. I didn’t bother checking once I saw Eddie. Shit! I wanted to be the one to put Alexei out of his misery.
“And I couldn’t let the FBI get you.”
“I don’t understand.” I spot a hostile Russian behind Eddie and shoot him in the chest twice. The man falls without delay on a pile of already deceased compadres. How nice of them to fall into place.
“You tried to capture me in Verde,” I remind with a narrow glance.
Eddie steers us toward a side door. “Sort of.”
“What do you mean?” I demand an answer, but he simply stares at me. Is it possible he was trying to save me in Verde instead of the opposite? It doesn’t compute, but my life rarely does.
The shattering of windows interrupts his explanation. We swivel and see FBI agents swarm through the windows and doors, guns ready.
“Fuck!” he yells, jerking me through the corridor. We duck into a room filled with communion wine.
“How ironic. Too bad we don’t have time for a sip.” I smirk and check my gun.
He slams the door shut then jogs to the window. Sliding it open, he calls to me, “Come on. You’re going out the window.”
“Are you crazy? It’s a twenty-foot jump. I’ll break something.” I argue when I near. “I’d rather take my chances the old fashion way.”
I hate heights more than I hate my stepmother. Damn, why I am thinking of that bitch right now? If she was here, I’d gladly and without consequence, drop her like the pest she is. Sounds rather tempting. For now, I better focus on my own damned life.
Grabbing me by the shoulders, Eddie forces me to look at him. “It’s too late. They’ll catch you. They know you’re the bride in this fiasco and you’ll be easy to spot.” I twist my lips at the veracity in his words. “You’re going to be safe. I promise.” He nods to the window. “Just go. I’ll find you later.”
I should do precisely what he says. The agency’s directive reruns through my mind, and I struggle to decipher what to do. I know what I should do, but to hell with it.
“How do you know you’ll find me? Are you going to arrest me when you do? I mean, what were you—?”
Eddie’s lips over mine cuts off the rest of my questions. Damn, I wish I didn’t enjoy his kiss so much.
He pulls back far too soon and caresses my cheek with his bloodied knuckles. “I love you, Mishka, Rory, or whatever your name is.” He chuckles. “You have to trust me.” I wrinkle my nose. “It’s not easy, I know, but I’m on your side. If I don’t meet you by nightfall, I want you to run and never look for me.”
“What’re you talking about? You can’t go out there.” I point to the plethora of shots being fired twenty yards away. “You need to come with me. If they find out you let me go, they’ll kill you,” I frantically argue, keeping him close.
The iron smell of his bloodied gunshot meets my nose. “You were shot. You need to get to a hospital before it gets worse.”
His lips hush me once again. As much as I want to detach from him, I want to kiss him more. Eddie holds me tight, consuming my energy. He kisses as though it’s our last, and my chaotic heart shatters piece by fragile piece.
“Go. I’ll track you down after I’m done here. I won’t let anyone else hurt you,” he assures, coming up for air.
“I can’t leave you.” My eyes swell with tears. His wounds are fatal unless taken care of and we both know it.
Voices carry down the hall along with rampant gunfire. “Jump now or you’ll live to regret it.” He half pushes, half throws me out the window. And now I’m falling, falling, to an unknown fate. Such is my life.
Chapter Seventeen
The freezing air whisks my breath away as I begin my descent. Clenching my eyelids, I brace myself for the inevitable kersplat at the end of my freefall, but none comes. Instead, I flick my eyes open as I land in a mound of soft snow. The dismount isn’t the smoothest and my ass will more than likely sport bruises, but I’m not dead.
Righting myself, I peer up to the window, but see Eddie already gone. Reviewing the mountain of snow someone built into a pile, I scan my surroundings. He planned all this. It’s below freezing and the clouds look ready to burst with fresh snowflakes.
“A jacket would’ve been a good idea,” I lament, briskly rubbing my hands over my sleeveless arms. Turning around, I gasp when I spot a shadowy form close by.
“Don’t hate me for saying this on your wedding day, but you look absolutely atrocious.” Dylan teases when I meet his glance.
The brute is standing in the tree line as though awaiting my descent. The majority of his face is covered in a scarf, but I’d recognize those eyes and voice anywhere. The throaty tone sends chills down me even more than the frigid temperatures.
Carefully straddling the packed snow, I glare at him. Son of a bitch. Shaking my gun free, I don’t know whether to use my last bullet or tackle him. I can’t count the number of times I wanted to slug him for his mocking remarks, but I’m relieved to see a friendly face at the end of the debacle inside the cathedral.
“It wasn’t my choice, but thanks for the vote of confidence.” I glance down at the gown. It’s shredded this way and that and even displays where bullets missed their mark. An artistic masterpiece.
“I think what you’ve done is an improvement on the original,” he remarks, his eyes crinkling in mirth.
“I take it, this was your plan? Get in bed with Eddie and hope he doesn’t double cross you?” I tear the bottom of the dress completely off. Though the temperature is glacial, I don’t feel it compared to being lathered in this insulting article.
“It didn’t start that way, but yeah.” He offers me his hand, and I squint at it.
“What’s the rest of your plot?” I ask, skirting his body. At the moment, I don’t want to have anything to do with him. I want to march back to the cathedral and haul Eddie out of the myriad of gunfire.
“Eddie’s covering for us so I can get you out of here,” Dylan explains, catching up to me.
I don’t respond. I don’t know how to respond. If Eddie knew he wasn’t making it out of there, why did he risk his exposure? I know the answer before I think it. He did it because he loves me. Never have I been more confused, and it happens often.
We round the trees, and I slam on my brakes lest I run into a woman standing in the snow. My very much alive mother stares at me. I guess I was wrong about that one.
“You made it,” Alena breathes, clearly relieved. “I wasn’t sure if we could trust the cop friend of yours.” She’s dressed from head to toes in heavy furs. How dreadfully Russian of her.
“Mother.” The word slips from my mouth, but I can’t believe I’m saying it. My emotions are too muddled and I don’t know which one to explore.
She wraps me into a hug. “I’m so happy to see you, Mishka. I thought you were lost to the skhodka.”
“Not quite,” I stammer and pull away from her grip. This woman abandoned me when I needed her the most. She doesn’t deserve my love even if I am her flesh and blood. I don’t want to be a part of whatever she’s involved in. She hid from her family for fifteen plus years.
All my reasons for going after the skhodka were based on her death. A huge lie. One which directed my past, present and potential future. If she stayed silent for all those years, it wasn’t because of something good. She’s most assuredly arousing a decadent scheme. Why else would she remain underground? If she dwelled among thieves, then she was queen of the brood.
Seeing how Dylan is readily at her side means he’s her little bitch. How disappointing. I hope he hasn’t slept with her. Eww, God, no, that’d be gross.
“Well, it was great to see you both, but I should get going.”
And to think I actually made myself believe I was in love with the sexicle. I sn
ort. Serves me right for jumping in bed with him. He was a spy all along, and I was duped by my feminine needs. Well, that won’t happen again. I’m moving to an island of nuns.
Alena catches my hand. “You can’t leave.”
“Watch me.” I rip out of her vice-like grip. If she thinks I’m sticking around to help, she’s sorely mistaken. “I didn’t want any of this. I was perfectly fine marrying Alexei and dealing with him in my own way.”
“But I’m back, so you didn’t have to,” she includes with a tiny smile.
I shoot my mother a hateful glare. “I didn’t want you to come back. You were a saint until you rose from the grave.”
I’m not about to spill the gory details about my association with the agency. Hell, they probably knew she was alive and used me to get to her. My eyes widen. Holy fuck! That notion is as valid as it is crippling.
“I never wanted to put the men I loved in danger either. It’s apparent, I was wrong about my affections for all involved.”
I shoot icy daggers at Dylan, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. “And I’m not going to sit by idle and let the one and only man who ever stuck by me get killed because of my fucked-up family.”
Alena bows her head in shame and it suddenly clicks for me. My stomach heaves at the realization. “This was your idea. You thought you’d make some great gesture to save me from the skhodka.”
She doesn’t react. She doesn’t need to. It’s scribbled on her aged face. My hands curl into fists. “You made my life hell. You’ve no idea all the shit I went through in your name. All the times I defended your memory. It was all a waste.” I shake my head sadly. “A fucking waste.”
“I never meant for it to be like this,” she starts. “When I died, I thought your father would take you away from my past and start a new life far from Russian influence.” She sighs, the puff drifting between us. “I never thought he would marry a skhodka woman.”
I squint my eyes, hoping my sheer anger will make her disappear. It doesn’t, dammit.
Assassin by Day Page 22
