Assassin by Day

by Tessa Robertson

  I spot Nickolas by the sanctuary entrance. His eyes are glazed over and my stomach dips. “No, not you too.” I stop and slide my hand over his eyelids. He might not have been the greatest person in the world, but I cared deeply for him.

  “I’ll come back for you, old friend,” I vow, smoothing his blood-matted hair. He deserves a proper burial. All he would receive at the hands of the FBI is a hasty cremation.

  It isn’t like me to be sentimental, but Nickolas didn’t sugarcoat his plans. Sure, he was a merciless assassin, but I knew better. Had things gone differently, we would’ve married. He would’ve treated me fair. If we were given the chance, I may have grown to love him.

  Smoke wafts through the halls and fills my lungs. Using what is left of my dress, I cover my mouth as my search continues. The sooner I find Eddie, the sooner we can haul ass out of Russia. I can’t lose him this way. It’s not how it’s supposed to go.

  I reach the sanctuary and peruse the pews. Dozens of bodies lie motionless, but a few fidget in agony. Racing down the aisle, I scan the bodies. A shock of blond hair catches my attention on one moving soul.

  “Eddie!” A hoarse cough comes from the form, and I breathe a sigh of momentary relief. He’s alive.

  Falling to my knees, I turn the body over and feel fresh tears. Eddie’s glorious face meets my eyes. “Oh, thank God,” I cry, flicking debris from his hair.

  His eyes are closed, but his lips slowly move. I lean down, but can’t hear what he’s trying to say. “What is it?”

  “Alexei,” he rasps then falls to a fit of coughs. Scouring his body, I see his injuries are extensive. I never should’ve left.

  “I don’t know if he made it,” I advise, eyeing the surrounding pews. I spot the two bodyguards I shot, but Alexei is nowhere to be found. “I can’t tell.”

  Eddie tries to sit up, but only succeeds in agitating his wounds. Blood seeps onto my white dress, staining it upon impact. “He’s alive. I got one shot in him, but I’m positive he’s in here somewhere.”

  “Fuck!” I survey the crowded church. “Then he’s either hiding or nursing his wounds.”

  I rip a chunk of fabric from my dress and press it onto Eddie’s oozing injuries. His bleeding doesn’t decrease, and worry instantly floods over me. His first bullet hole now has triplets accompanying it. There’s no way he will make it if I don’t get him to a hospital.

  “You’re going to be fine,” I reassure, but scarcely believe it myself.

  “No, I’m not, but thanks,” Eddie replies, cracking his eyes open. He looks weary, sitting there drenched in red. It’s smeared on his neck, and I wonder if it’s his or someone else’s.

  Grabbing the gun held in his limp hand, I kiss his forehead. “Keep talking to me, Eddie. I’m going to look for Alexei.”

  I tiptoe over the body directly next to Eddie. The man’s hollow eyes stare into the void. I should move it. No, focus on the task at hand.

  “I should’ve told you about my tactic,” Eddie apologizes as I nudge a man with my foot. No movement. “I wasn’t sure how much you knew about your mother.”

  “Enough to know she’s a traitor on both sides of the spectrum,” I return, pulling a cap down over the eyes of another deceased agent. I really don’t care what his plan was in all of this. He’s not wickedly deceiving like my mother or Demetri. It’s enough for me.

  “Rory…er, Mishka, I don’t know what to call you,” Eddie admits, and I glance back to him.

  He’s watching me with those spectacular blue eyes of his. I can’t recall a time when he didn’t move my soul by simply looking at me. It scares me to death.

  “I’m sorry. That’s my fault. I should’ve told you my real name.” I shake my head. “My middle name is Rory, though.” He doesn’t seem impressed by my low-key response. “You can call me Rory or Mishka. It’s up to you.” I overturn another body. “I answer to both, obviously.”

  “I don’t think I’m going to have a lot of time to call you either one,” he forecasts when I peek over to see him wince as he shifts.

  “Don’t talk like that,” I chide, nearing the altar steps. This is the last place I saw Alexei. His bodyguards lie motionless, so I’m in the right area.

  My footsteps falter when I come upon the dead priest. “You’re going to make it out of here so you can annoy me until I agree to marry you. Then you’ll have half a century to pester me with your devotion.”

  “If only I was so lucky.”

  A familiar head comes into my vision. I would recognize those new tattoos anywhere despite being littered with blood spatter and debris.

  “Why do you say that?” I ask, carefully moving closer.

  “Well, you have Dylan. I take it the two of you were more than cozy in Verde,” he implicates. “The way he was looking at you makes me believe there’s more going on. I don’t blame you. He’s a handsome guy. One who will be alive at the end of the day.” Eddie chuckles at his forced joke.

  Looking at him right now isn’t an option. Eddie loves me, and I slept with another guy. It’s never been uncommon, but I always stayed loyal to him. He’s semi-pissed about that detail even though we weren’t together. I hold no resentment. I’d be mad about it if the roles were reversed.

  I pause at my notion. When did I become an emotional rollercoaster tied to men? In Verde. Damn that place for making me grip with my humanity. I’m so much better as a bitch who knows how to use knives. I pause my foot at the thought. Knives would be useful right about now.

  “Well, Dylan is in fact Demetri, and he’s hell bent on finishing what my mother started, so I won’t be living out my days with him any time soon.” I check the gun. Two bullets left in the chamber. Holding my breath as I near Alexei, I spot four bullet wounds in his back.

  “Dylan is Demetri? Wait, Demetri Kain?” Eddie asks, but I don’t reply. The fucker is going to give away my position.

  Eddie chuckles, a sound resembling a dying cat. “We’ve been looking for him for years. I guess it makes sense he’s with Alena Vald, though. It completes our FBI profile that she has an accomplice.”

  I get three steps before the damn man opens his mouth again, this time with a question. “What will you do next? You can’t possibly think you’ll lead a regular life after this.”

  The battered agent makes a good point. I hadn’t thought much about what I’m going to do after my fiasco. I really don’t expect to live long enough to find out, and now isn’t the best time to hash any plans. If I survive, I’ll figure it out as I go. It’s how I take on life.

  “Even if you flee Russia, the FBI won’t stop. You’re just as important a puzzle piece as Demetri and Alena. You’re the reason she kept underground for as long as she did.” His voice waivers at his next question. “Will you go with her?”

  “At the moment, all I’m worried about it making sure Alexei is dead.”

  I squint to Eddie and note he’s somewhat disappointed with my response. “And so you can strap me down with your disgusting, mushy love,” I lob with a smirk, then hunch down.

  Rolling the figure over, I suck in enough air to fill a balloon. Alexei is wide awake and analyzing me with a handgun pointed toward my face.

  “Well, maybe one out of two isn’t bad.” Eddie’s concerned voice in the distance falls away. I have other things occupying my attention.

  “I knew you’d come for him,” Alexei sputters and blood dribbles from his mouth. He’s on the edge of the grave, but he’ll gladly haul me to the depths of hell too. “You always had a soft spot for scum.”

  I glance to where Eddie lies and maintain my composure. His brow is wrinkled, but his face is blanch white.

  “This looks familiar,” I recall haughtily, meeting Alexei’s vengeful eyes. “You at my hand’s mercy. Where has this happened before?”

  Alexei chuckles as his face paints suffering. “Except this time, you’ll come with me, Mishka. You won’t get your sunset fairytale.” He shakes his gun toward Eddie. “And neither will he.”

 
“You won’t get five feet before he shoots you,” I suggest and hope I sound convincing. “And even if he doesn’t, I’ll use my last breath to fill you with bullets.”

  A hauntingly worried expression covers the mobster’s face. He’s seeing the light. What I don’t expect is when he not so subtly jams his gun in my ribcage.

  “Try your best,” he taunts, pulling the trigger.

  “Rory!” Eddie roars as my world shifts into slow motion.

  The shot slices through my muscle like butter and the searing pain paralyzes my senses. I scowl at Alexei. He’s doubling over in laughter and anguish, but all is silent as his body shifts in humorous peril.

  Judiciously, I touch the hole with my hand and stare at the crimson liquid. So much blood. No feeling registers to my brain. Adrenaline is all that’s keeping me upright.

  My hearing comes back eventually but with constant ringing in the background. Nothing like a gunshot at close range.

  “You son of a bitch! You actually shot me!”

  I don’t know why it catches me off guard. After all he’s done to me physically, it isn’t far-fetched he attempts murder.

  “It was worth it,” he responds, his head drooping to the side.

  Summoning whatever vigor left, I push his gun away and fire off my rounds into his chest. I watch through blurred vision as the life filters from his eyes. He gurgles blood then nosedives to the slippery flooring. I let out a hazardous breath. This time, he’s dead. I poke him with my foot to double-check resurrection isn’t a recurring theme.

  “He’s gone,” I repeat over and over when his body remains motionless. If only I had time to revel in the victory. It’d be worth a case of vodka. I’m safe. Eddie’s safe.

  I blink repetitively, then squint over to my FBI soldier. Okay, sort of safe. Eddie’s face is an array of emotions as the stubborn ass tries to reach me. He stands only to stagger, streaks of blood covering his tall stature.

  Teetering down the altar steps, blood flows down my dress like a river. The once pure gown is several shades of pink. Astonishingly, I sense nothing. I must be close to death. I lose more fluids by the time I meet Eddie halfway. He looks worse, but I expect Grim Reaper-goggles aren’t always accurate.

  “You need a hospital,” Eddie attempts, out of breath.

  He pulls me into his arms, and all I can think about is that our blood’s intimately mingling. It’s odd how your brain works when it’s depleting.

  “No more than you.” I giggle, but find my act spurts new geysers. “Do I look as bad as I think?”

  Eddie pushes the mangled hair out of my eyes and cups my face. The way he looks at me makes it seem like we have a thousand years more to live. “No. You’re beautiful.”

  I crack a smile at his sincerity. The dumbass means every word. “I guess my wedding day kind of sucked.”

  “Your next one will be better, I promise.”

  I love him for never giving up on us. He sticks by me through all the shit I put him through. I don’t know why, other than he’s crazy. Crazy for me. All our times together flash before my eyes like some sick movie reel. The highs outweigh our lows and tears slide down my face.

  Eddie must live. There’s no other way around it. He’s a good guy. One I absolutely don’t deserve in my wildest dreams.

  “Come on, Harper. You’re living,” I resolve, pulling him up. He’s heavier than I assume. Eddie and his marvelous muscles.

  “We won’t make it out of the church,” he argues but wraps an arm around my waist nonetheless.

  “Then, I’ll die trying. It’ll be my greatest achievement,” I joke, but he doesn’t find it funny.

  We blunder through the sanctuary strewn with fallen bodies before I feel lightheaded. At this rate, I won’t make it to the front doors before I pass out. I check Eddie. He looks horrific and is barely hanging on. His bulk is against me, but I muddle through anyhow. Eddie will endure. Something good must live on today. I don’t deserve it, but Eddie, he does.

  As I haul him through the foyer, I scan the faces of the bodies who fell during the interaction. Some are heaving their last breaths, but I’m not looking for the random skhodka members. I need to see if the flames have overtaken Nickolas. I may as well tow him too before we suffocate to death.

  Tracing my steps to the last place I saw Nickolas, I review the sprawled frames. “He’s not here,” I utter in shock. I kick one body over, but it’s not him either. Fuck.

  Chalking it up to my injuries, I lurch forwards. He’s dead. Someone must’ve taken his corpse. Hmm, if I wasn’t dying, I’d investigate more.

  “Rory?” Eddie rasps.

  I crane my neck and his eyes are bruised and closed. Shit! I don’t have time to look for Nickolas.

  We attain the heavy doors at the entrance. My diminished energy hits me at last. It’s surreal; like disappearing as each trickle leaves my veins.

  “Eddie, we’re almost there.” He doesn’t respond when I shake his solid shoulder. Dammit!

  I drag him until we’re free of the building. The steps loom ahead, but I don’t dare try them. I’ll trip and drop him and then we’ll have brain damage on top of the gunshots.

  Spotting a car beyond the stairs with an FBI logo splashed on it, I nod once. “If I can get Eddie there, they’ll take care of him.” My mind plays tricks on me as my depth perception has set sail along with the rest of my abilities.

  My body sways to the left then the right until I’m suddenly on the ground. “Eddie,” I sputter, feeling warm blood on my lips. “Eddie?”

  His body heat is directly on my back, but no sound emanates from him. He’s dead, and I’m not far behind him. Well, if I have to go, I’m in Eddie’s arms.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “And that, boys, is my story,” I conclude, taking a sip of the water on the table. It’s lukewarm at best. Ugh, it’s like drinking bathwater.

  The two FBI agents, Donovan and Sully respectively, stare at me with their mouths gaping. Neither speaks for a full minute. They just sit there mute. Every now and then one of them opens his mouth only to clamp it shut. I can’t say I’d do anything different. My tale is superficially farfetched where stories are concerned.

  At last, they look between each other then back to me. Since I have nowhere to be, I study them. Sully is the cuter of the two, but I’m not here for a quickie. I’d rather not be here for anything.

  Sully cuts the silence with his words, “When I said, ‘Tell me what happened’ I didn’t think you were going to tell us everything.”

  “Yeah, I mean you didn’t need to go into detail, or any detail for that matter, about your sex life,” Donovan budges in and crosses his arms over his chest.

  I smirk at the two dumbasses in front of me. They have no idea who they’re dealing with and that’s fine. I would rather it be this way. I told them way more than I should have, but I’m still getting used to not being dead.

  Talk about being surprised. I was 99.99% positive I died. I think I did at one point since I have the bruises to prove the paddles were used multiple times. The remnants of the surgery to remove the bullets resonate in my tender flesh. Those smart a bit. There were two of those buggers in me. Didn’t realize it until the nurse showed me the bullets in a tiny glass jar.

  I resist the urge to squirm. My healing isn’t progressing fast enough for my liking. Being shot isn’t something I ever let happen before, so this is a new experience all around. Killing Alexei indefinitely was a nice change, though. I hope he didn’t find a voodoo doctor to revive him. Rolling my eyes to the floor, it’s not possible since he was halfway gone when I shot him.

  “I don’t think you understand the severity of your actions, Ms. Vald,” Donovan chastises, and I glance up to see a grin smeared on his face.

  Reviewing him, I assess his experience. He’s your typical straight out of the academy agent. Cocky and idiotic. Tilting my head, I bet he’d be easy to manipulate if I wanted to. It’d be fun. A little too much fun.

  Turning my g
aze to his partner, I admire Sully despite our recent acquaintance. He displays a good sense of what’s going on. Well, he thinks as much. I estimate he’s a few years older than Donovan. The first time he spoke was in impeccable Russian, so he’s spent time overseas. That’s not something taught at the academy. His skill is one you learn from living with Russians, preferably in Russia.

  I calmly sit in the straight-backed chair, my hands cuffed in front of me. I don’t twitch, not even my brow as Donovan continues his ranting about my actions. Allegedly, I stole an FBI car. How bad ass of me. I don’t remember any of it. The last thing I recall, I was kissing concrete. Flashes of driving a car run across my mind, but I thought I imagined it. Mirages aren’t unheard of given the circumstance. Hmm, that’s one way to lose weight. Kudos, Alexei. I’m size six again.

  Per the FBI, I shoved Eddie into the backseat of a car then tried to steal it. I got a whole ten yards away before another car crashed into me to halt the escape. I tried to save Eddie, but I don’t know if I succeeded. Those bullets festered in his body longer than my fresh ones. It’s why I survived. Well, and the fact I was rushed to a hospital via helicopter. The doctors did their best, but the scars will stick with me forever. A nice reminder of my blissful wedding.

  Since waking in the lonely hospital bed, no one will tell me what happened to Eddie. They probably think he was in the car when I took it. Not being able to escape the infirmary was the nail in my coffin. The handcuff on my bedridden wrist also didn’t help my case.

  “Mishka, you have to tell us your connection to Alena Vald,” Sully’s voice breaks into my wayward thoughts. I’d much rather think about Eddie.

  “She’s my mother,” I state the obvious without further ado. “And a crappy one to boot.” Neither sees my revelation as breaking news. Though I’m surprised they called me by my Russian name. Every ID I possess reflects Rory Vald.

  I angle my eyebrow at them. They know more than they let on, but I’m not spilling my life story. My sole bargaining chip depends on Eddie. And he may currently be awaiting autopsy.