Stone Cold Angel (The Perfect Order Book 2)

by Amy Deason

  He’d snapped the radio on, leaving the station where it was. The heavy metal music was harsh and it grated on her already-shredded nerves.

  “Do you mind?” she asked, reaching for the radio.

  Arching an eyebrow, he shook his head, keeping his attention on the road.

  Tapping the button, she ran through a variety of stations before settling on one. “Waltz of the Flowers” by Tchaikovsky flowed from the speakers and curled itself around her. This was one of her favorite pieces to play. So beautiful and soft, she felt herself drifting.

  “Tchaikovsky?”

  Jerking in her seat, she looked up at him. “You know Tchaikovsky?” She couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice.

  “A little.” He paused, his lips nothing but a thin slash on his face. “My mother used to listen to this. It was always playing in our house. Especially when . . .”

  He stopped again, this time she saw his jaw clench. In anger, in pain? She didn’t know.

  “Your mom sounds amazing,” she murmured.

  Nikolas turned his black gaze onto her and she wanted to sink back into herself. The hate and pain lashed out at her like a knife.

  “She wasn’t.” Thankfully he looked back at the highway in front of them.

  Cadence felt her heart pounding in her chest. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, she found herself wondering what had happened to this man to cause him such pain and anguish. It was doubtful he would tell her. They weren’t exactly sharing family secrets right now.

  “My mom used to listen to this too,” she whispered, not sure if she should continue or not. Maybe if she opened up a little, he would too. She didn’t know him from Adam but she hated to see anyone in such emotional pain. “She was an artist. Paintings mostly. But they were beautiful.” She swallowed thickly remembering how she would sit and watch as Alicia create a masterpiece out of nothing. “This was the piece she would always play. I remember watching her paint. It was mesmerizing.”

  “Do you paint?”

  Cadence smiled at herself. His voice was strained but at least he seemed to be making an effort. She supposed she should do the same.

  “I tried once but it ended up being nothing but a brown and gray blob. It was hideous. I wanted to throw it out but my mom wouldn’t let me. She hung it in her studio right by the window. It was her favorite place to paint.” Tears pricked at her eyes but she blinked them back. Shrugging, she continued, “So I figured if I couldn’t paint like my mom, I would try to play the music she liked. I started banging around on the piano. My mom must have heard something in the racket I was making because she signed me up for lessons the very next day. And I fell in love with it.”

  “So you played while your mother painted?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “It was . . .” She shrugged again, not knowing how to explain it. It had been their special time. Tchaikovsky’s waltz fell away into the more modern notes of “Caves of Ice.” As the soft but mysterious chords filled the car, Cadence glanced over at Nikolas, studying his profile in the glowing lights of the instrument panel.

  The man was gorgeous. The slim nose, high cheekbones, and of course, those full, masculine lips. He was so handsome.

  Borderline pretty, her mind whispered. Yes, definitely borderline pretty. Even more so than the hot actor in those famous vampire movies she loved. But it wasn’t just his looks that continued to draw her in. Or even the way he kissed her, instantly turning her into a puddle of goo. It was something more.

  Turning back to the window, she wondered again who Nikolas was. Not just his name or who he worked for but who he really was. Deep down. He scared her, sure. But more than that, he intrigued her. He was surly and violent at times, killing almost without thought. And then other times, he could be surprisingly gentle, almost compassionate. Of course, this might all be nothing more than an act. An elaborate show to confuse her and keep her guessing. But she didn’t think so. There was something in his eyes, those deep, dark eyes, that spoke to her, making her feel as if he was on the verge of opening up to her.

  Like back at the sewer.

  She’d had a feeling he was about to let her in, to shed some light on his life but then, at the last moment, he pulled back behind the stone cold wall he surrounded himself in, effectively shutting her out. Which of course only made her want to know that much more. It was stupid really. Wanting to get closer to someone like him when all she should be trying to do was get further away. He was everything she needed to be wary of. Secretive, dangerous, lethal. But he was also fearless, caring, and protective. A total enigma.

  He reminded her of a Rubik’s Cube she’d had as a kid. She’d spent hours playing with it, trying to unlock the puzzle of those brightly colored squares. Several times, she had become so frustrated she nearly threw it against the wall. But she hadn’t. Because she had to figure it out. She had to see the end result. So she kept twisting and turning it, studying it from different angles until at last, she broke through the mystery. And in that moment, the moment when all of the plastic squares lined up and the bright colors matched, it was much more than just some silly kid’s toy. It was an accumulation of her time and energy, a reflection of her hard work and determination. It was beautiful. It still sat on her bedroom shelf as a reminder that even the most maddening of puzzles could be unraveled if only she had the patience to do it. Nikolas was the same way. She just needed patience and the right tools to figure him out.

  “Where did you get the locket?” he asked.

  His silky voice ripped her out of her thoughts. Startled, she dropped her eyes, surprised to see the golden heart in her hand.

  “It was a Christmas present from my dad. The last thing he gave to me before he . . .” Swallowing the lump in her throat, she turned toward the window, not wanting Nikolas to see her cry. “Now it’s all I have left . . .”

  “And the music notes?”

  She looked down at the tiny notes meticulously engraved into the gold. She smiled as she traced them with her fingertip. “I’ve always loved music. It’s so strong and powerful you know? It moves you,” she whispered, almost talking to herself. Then she shrugged. “I played for my mom when she was sick. It made her so happy.” Cadence choked on the last words and she felt tears burning her eyes. Turning back to the window, she swiped at her eyes though no tears fell. She would not cry in front of him.

  “I’m sorry about your father. And your mother too.”

  She spun on him. “What do you know about my mom?” Her words came out harsher than she’d intended but she was tired and on edge.

  Nikolas cast a sidelong glance her way. “I know everything about you.”

  Her peaceful mood gone, Cadence snapped off the radio, silencing the tender notes of some unknown ballad. “How is that possible? Who are you?”

  “It’s best if you don’t ask so many questions.”

  “Damn it, I’m tired of not knowing!” she screamed. “My dad’s dead, we nearly got killed, and I’m stuck in this God-awful country with you! Now I want some fucking answers.”

  “And you’re used to getting what you want, right?” His handsome mouth contorted themselves into an ugly sneer. “Well, let me tell you something, princess, just because you throw a temper tantrum doesn’t mean I’m going to give into you. I’m not one of your servants you can order around.” His tone was bitter and harsh.

  “I don’t have servants. If you know as much about me as you say you do, then you would know that. You’re nothing but a filthy liar.” She was so angry right now she was trembling in her seat. The man was an ass. An insufferable ass.

  “I haven’t lied to you.”

  “You haven’t told me the truth either,” she snapped. He was right about the temper tantrum but damn it, she’d had enough of his games. She wanted some answers.

  “That doe
sn’t make me a liar.”

  “What does it make you then?”

  He turned then, his full gaze caressing her face. “Someone trying to keep you safe.”

  As soon as he looked at her with those dark eyes, she forgot how to breathe. A moment later, she remembered. “Why? Why do you care? All you want is some stupid formula my dad was working on.”

  “True,” he allowed. “But I don’t like to see innocent people hurt either.”

  His voice dropped significantly and carried a sudden weight, making her pause.

  Innocent people? Was he talking about her or someone else?

  “Then please, just tell me the truth. Who are you? Is Nikolas Kozlov even your real name?”

  Nikolas sighed as if she’d just asked him the meaning of life. He returned his attention to the road before answering. “You don’t need to know who I am. But for argument’s sake, let’s just say I’m part of an international group that very few people know exist.”

  Cadence stared at him, a heavy, sick feeling settling in her midsection like a stone. “Oh my God.” She looked away, wrapping her hands around the edge of her seat. She suddenly felt like she was going to throw up. What in the hell had she gotten herself into? And how was she going to get out of it?

  Swallowing thickly, she found her voice. “Are you a good guy or a bad guy?”

  “It depends on who you ask.”

  She stared at him then. His eyes were still centered on the road in front of them. “I’m asking you.”

  “For all intents and purposes, I guess you could say I’m a ‘good guy.’ But really there’s not much difference.”

  “Of course there is. Good guys do what’s right. They save lives. Bad guys take them.”

  “But Cadence,” he said, drawing her name out as if he were explaining something to a two-year-old, “I’ve taken plenty of lives.”

  “Maybe so. But they were all bad guys, right?” She noticed his hesitation and the stone in her stomach began to do cartwheels. “Right?”

  Nikolas’s jaw tightened before he spoke. He turned to look at her and she saw a flicker of some unknown emotion dance across his face before disappearing. His eyes were flat, deadly, and totally unapologetic. “I’ve done what I’ve had to.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He turned back to the road. “Just leave it alone Cadence,” he replied through clenched teeth.

  She should have stopped there but she didn’t. She couldn’t. “I want to know.”

  The sneer was back. “I don’t particularly care what you want. I’m here on a mission and your wants and needs don’t apply.”

  “Then why not let me go? If you don’t want to deal with me, and it’s extremely obvious you don’t, then drop me off at the American Embassy. They can see to it that I get home and you never have to see me again.”

  Nikolas snorted. Ordinarily not a sexy sound but coming from him, it was. Everything was.

  “What?” she asked. “There’s no reason for you to keep me. I’ve already told you everything I know.”

  Raising an eyebrow, he looked at her. “Have you?”

  “You know I have. If you don’t want to take me to the Embassy, then just take me to the airport so I can go home.”

  “Afraid I can’t do that.”

  This guy was really pissing her off. “And why not? Are you afraid to go to Valaam by yourself?” She couldn’t keep the sarcastic tone from her voice. She didn’t even try.

  “Of course not,” he replied, cool as a cucumber. “But I can’t afford for Dmitry to get a hold of you again. And he will the minute you hit American soil. If not before.”

  “What’s he going to do? Blow up the plane and kill everyone to get to me?” she asked, half-joking, although nothing about this situation was funny.

  Nikolas kept his eyes on the road but what he said next chilled her to the bone.

  “He burned down the hotel, didn’t he?”

  Chapter 10

  Seated at the best table in the upscale restaurant. Dmitry had been enjoying his evening meal when the cell phone in his breast pocket began to vibrate. Normally, he was not one to answer the phone while at dinner. He found it to be a rude habit and it was one he frowned upon, especially in the company of others. But these were desperate times and therefore, he allowed a slight leniency within his own set of rules.

  “Pardon me, my dear,” he said, directing his attention to the young brunette across from him. “I apologize but I really must take this. If you will excuse me a moment.” Rising from the table, he strode to a more private area of the restaurant before answering.

  “This better be important,” he growled into the phone. It wasn’t often he took a woman out to eat but this little slut was worth it. She may have the brains of a twelve-year-old but her body was hotter than any Playboy Bunny. And she was not stingy about sharing it with him as long as he wined and dined her first. A small price to pay for the excruciating delights she was going to provide for him later. This girl loved to fuck as much as he did, probably more. She was wild and crazy in bed and was up for anything.

  “Sorry to interrupt your dinner, sir,” Sergei said, “but there’s been a bit of a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?” Dmitry turned back to his companion. Leaning forward with her low-cut dress, she was watching him with those bedroom eyes. Ever so slowly, she ran her tongue over her pink lips, moistening them. He felt himself grow hard as he pictured ramming his cock between them over and over until he spilled himself into her throat.

  “It’s the girl.”

  “Do we have her back?” Dmitry asked, still watching the nearly X-rated show his date was performing with her mouth across the room.

  “Not exactly.”

  His attention was reined in, focusing solely on the voice on the other end of the phone. Turning his back to the girl at the table, he clenched the phone hard enough to crack its plastic casing. “What do you mean, not exactly?” He spoke slowly and with clenched teeth, trying to hold in his anger. It would not be good to blow up here in front of everyone.

  “One of our guys got a tip from a street urchin. Apparently in the midst of their getaway, the girl and the guy she was with nearly ran him over in an alley. For a few dollars and a hot meal, he practically led them right to the house.”

  “And?” Dmitry found himself getting impatient with Sergei’s storytelling ways. He may look like a Greek god but he was a pain in the ass when it came to getting to the point of things. If he wasn’t such a valuable resource, Dmitry would have dropped him long ago.

  “Our guys came in hot, blasting the house to smithereens but they were ready for us. Four of our men were killed. Three at the house and one at a ravine a few miles north of here.”

  “God damn it!” Dmitry roared, not caring if anyone was watching him now. How in the hell could they have escaped him again?

  “Listen to me,” he seethed, “I want you to find them. I don’t care how, I don’t care when but it better be soon. Go back and retrace every move that bastard Montgomery made from the time his mother shot him out of her twat until you two fuckers killed him. I want to know where he slept, where he pissed and where he jerked off. I have no doubt his daughter knows something we don’t. I want her found. Got it?” He didn’t even wait for an answer before terminating the call.

  Fuck!

  Nothing was going his way. The last few days had produced nothing but failure and he didn’t like it. He’d worked too hard to get this far and he’d be damned if was going to fail now.

  Returning to the table, Dmitry slugged down his wine and poured another heaping glassful, downing it just as fast. He was so furious he didn’t even taste his steak as he ripped into it, his teeth gnashing angrily as they tore through the bloody meat.

  “I
s everything all right, baby?” the voluptuous brunette cooed, covering his hand with hers while her stockinged toe slipped into his crotch under the table. Gently she rubbed her foot against him, the slow, forceful circles, coaxing his erection to life.

  As all of his blood left his brain and moved southward, he knew what he had to do. He would have to take care of Montgomery’s daughter himself. And that meant getting dirty. Good thing he had the money to clean up real nice.

  But first . . .

  “Come, my sweet, let’s go. I believe it’s time you repaid me for this delicious dinner.”

  ~ ~ ~

  He should never have opened his mouth, Nikolas thought as the silence stretched between them. Cadence obviously hadn’t liked the answer but then, he hadn’t expected her to. Her silence was not what was bothering him though. It was the look on her face. It was one he was familiar with. A mixture of fear and sadness. The only thing was, he was used to seeing those particular emotions painted on the faces of those he killed, usually right before he ended their lives. But Cadence wasn’t dead. Far from it. She was very much alive and if he had anything to do with it, she would stay that way.

  Probably not the wisest decision and definitely not what Charlie would prefer. But Charlie wasn’t here and the decision was left to him. And killing Cadence just didn’t feel right.

  Death was never an easy thing, even for those who deserved to die. Each time he took a life, it left a permanent mark on his soul. A mark that could never be erased no matter how much he tried to justify it.

  Doing it for mankind, killing one to save many.

  Shit, no matter how he twisted and turned it, the result was always the same. He was a murderer.

  He’d killed in cold blood, in self-defense, in combat, even by assassination. He’d done it all. So many lives had been snuffed out by his hands. Men and women, young and old. No one was exempt from his murderous ways. Except children. Even as cold and heartless as he was, he didn’t think he could manage to take a child’s life and thankfully, he’d never been asked to. That was one line he did not want to cross. And somewhere along the way, killing Cadence had become another.