Eagle's Heart

by Alyssa Cole

  Julian looked at her dubiously and then headed cautiously for the exit to the alleyway, but she stood rooted to the spot, panic rising within her as her laughter tapered off.

  “Besides, are you seriously questioning me after you just snapped a guy’s neck?” she asked in a high voice. “You just killed people! In my apartment!”

  “People who were trying to kill us. Would you have preferred that I let them take you to Bardhyn?”

  “No, but I would have preferred that it didn’t happen in my apartment. The newspapers are going to have a field day with this. Sex Scandal Teacher Adds Murder To Her Lesson Plan!”

  She waved her hands about in his face, and he stared at her as if she were insane. Obviously he’d never been hounded by the local news media before.

  “That’s what you’re worried about? Not the fact that people are dead?”

  “I’m keyed up on adrenaline right now. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to reflect on the dead jerks who tried to kill me when I’m suffering from PTSD a week from now.”

  He tilted his head quizzically, and then it was his turn to laugh. “I knew I liked you,” he said. His words were said in jest, but they reminded Salomeh that although Julian had saved her life, he did so for his own purpose. The same purpose that had driven him to seduce her.

  A beige minivan pulled to a halt at the foot of the alley, making Salomeh jump. Not more of them, she thought with resignation, not sure she had the will to fight and wondering how many bullets Julian had left in his gun.

  The back door opened automatically, and a tall blonde poked her head up in the driver’s seat to observe them.

  “Hey there, loverboy,” she said in a tone that Salomeh didn’t appreciate, looking at Julian in a much-too-familiar way. “Get in. And bring your friend with you.”

  “Who is that?” Salomeh asked, surprised at how calmly she asked the question.

  “My partner.”

  Salomeh stood staring at him, unable to make sense of his words. “Like, life partner?”

  “Julian, you know I don’t like to be kept waiting,” the blonde called out, obviously enjoying his discomfort. Sirens wailed in the distance. “And I don’t feel like dealing with the paperwork or the explanations the police are going to want just yet, so come on.”

  “I’m not getting in the car until you tell me what is going on,” Salomeh said.

  “Even though I just killed, like, four guys to save your ass?” he asked, annoyed.

  “You killed two, and you were saving your own ass,” she said.

  “I could have left you if I wanted to, you know,” he countered.

  Salomeh’s eyes grew large with indignation.

  “I didn’t want to!” he said. “I’m asking you to please trust me and get in the car. Then we can go down to headquarters and figure out how to clear your name.”

  Something clicked for her then. She was angry with him and confused, and she felt worse than used, but she finally understood the truth of what he had told her before they had been rudely interrupted.

  He had known who she was all along. He had lied to her.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “I guess I should reintroduce myself.” He held out his hand. “Agent Julian Tamali, special liaison to the Balkan Gangs Squad Special Task Force.”

  All their secret-agent-man banter from the night before came rushing back at her, and she felt shame for so stupidly participating in her own betrayal. It wouldn’t be a first for her, of course. Unknowingly assisting people in taking advantage of her was quickly becoming her forte.

  “This isn’t funny anymore,” she said, ignoring his proffered hand.

  “I know,” he said, somber. “But we really do need to get out of here.”

  She glanced back into the alley, contemplating making a run for it, but the truth of the matter was she had no one else to turn to, no one that she could risk involving with the men who wanted to hurt her.

  She pushed past Julian and clambered into the back of the minivan while he took the front seat. The door slid closed, and the blonde caught Salomeh’s eye in the rearview mirror as she pulled off with a screech of tires.

  “Did you get any good intel, Julian?” she asked when she looked away. “About Birdie. I don’t want to know what else you’ve been up to.”

  Salomeh winced at the words, fighting the hot tears burning at her eyes, fighting the sadness that threatened to engulf her. Despite being attacked by Alexi this morning, and despite the melee that had just gone down in her apartment, realizing just how Julian had used her was the most horrible thing to happen to her that day. Even his coworker was in on it.

  Salomeh had thought she couldn’t discover new levels of humiliation, but she had been wrong. After taking a deep breath, she gazed imperiously out the window—perhaps looking as though she was above petty emotions like sadness would make it so—and tried not to think about just how wrong she had been about everything.

  “Just shut up and drive, Yates,” Julian said in a clipped tone.

  “Yes, sir,” Yates said congenially as she eased into traffic.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The woman—agent, Salomeh reminded herself—that Julian called Yates took them on a joyride down the inevitably traffic-gnarled Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. If Salomeh hadn’t already nearly lost her life more times than she could count that morning, she would have probably feared for it. At this point she was just annoyed at how she kept tumbling around the backseat as Yates jerked the car this way and that. Salomeh shot a glare toward the front of the vehicle as she pointedly buckled her seat belt.

  “You think this is bad, you should see Tamali over here behind the wheel,” Yates said, her elbow pointing in Julian’s direction. “They didn’t teach him about things like speed limits and stop signs back in Albania.”

  Salomeh saw Julian’s head move toward her, just a slight tilt and shifting of his dark hair. She flashed back to the night before, to the way his hair felt under her hands, the strands smooth and cool between her fingers.

  Being with him had made her heart beat erratically. The way he held her, moved against her and inside her, had touched some heretofore unknown part of her.

  And it had all been a lie.

  The way he had looked at her was all part of a role he was playing, she his unwitting pawn. She felt the pressure of tears building behind her eyes again but forced them back.

  “Where are we going, and how much longer do I have to spend with you people?” she asked, her voice sharp as a scalpel. It was the same voice she used on students who disappointed her in the extreme, and she knew it was effective.

  Yates pulled the car to the right, crossing lanes to cut in front of a semi before answering. “We have to go back to headquarters, where you’ll both be debriefed, and then we’ll have to figure out what to do with you.”

  Salomeh flashed back to Julian’s jest at the Fourth of July party. “Rule number two: if you do blow your cover, make sure to take out whoever knows your secret.” She had just seen him kill more than one man without blinking. And she had thought his spy lines were just a joke too.

  As if sensing her apprehension, Julian finally spoke. “Because Birdie is an imminent threat to your safety, you may have to be in protective custody for a period of time.”

  “I don’t want to spend a moment longer with you than is necessary,” she said. The thought of being forced into Julian’s proximity caused a feeling near hysteria to rise within her. “I’ll answer your questions, and then I’ll go. I can find someplace to hide out on my own, thanks.”

  Julian sighed and shifted in his seat. “I’m afraid that’s neither logical nor wise,” he said.

  “I’ll leave the state,” she said. “The only reason he wants me is because he thinks I’m a threat to him. If I’m out of the picture, I’m no longer a threat.”

  “Birdie has connections to gangs all over the US,” Julian explained as if he were talking to a child. “He’s set you up, sme
ared your reputation via the media, and today, attempted to have you executed. You aren’t going anywhere on your own.”

  “Dammit, Julian, you can’t tell me what to do,” Salomeh nearly yelled, knowing she sounded like one of her students having an outburst. Julian was right, but every time she looked at him, she burned with humiliation and something worse: latent desire. Anything was better than being stuck with him for who knew how long.

  Julian turned in his seat and locked his green eyes on hers, his expression inscrutable. “Actually I can. I hereby remand you into the custody of the Federal Bureau of Investigation until further notice.”

  “You wouldn’t. After what you’ve already done to me, you wouldn’t,” Salomeh said. Did he really care so much for his case and so little for her that he would treat her like this?

  “I would. In case you didn’t notice, three large men showed up at your apartment to kill you,” Julian said, his voice rising. “And if you think I’m stupid enough to let you go running right into Birdie’s arms, demanding to know where Yelena is—because that’s exactly what you’d do—you’re out of your mind. I know what that man is capable of.”

  “I know what he’s capable of too, Julian,” Salomeh said acidly. “And I’d take him over you right now, no question. At least he’s honest about what a monster he is.”

  Julian scrubbed at his stubbled jaw in frustration. When he spoke, his voice was low, for her ears only. “Salomeh, I’m sorry. I did not plan last night—”

  “You’re saying you didn’t show up at that party to get information from me?”

  “I didn’t, but you were there, and I thought I could just talk to you and see if you knew anything. I didn’t think you would be so…”

  “Easy?” Salomeh quipped. “Neither did I. Do they teach you how to charm women out of their pants at Quantico, or is that something you practice on your own time?”

  “That’s not what I was going to say! I know I hurt you, but I was trying to tell you the truth this morning, so we could figure out a way to clear your name. Unfortunately we were interrupted by a group of people trying to do us bodily harm.”

  “Wait, you think you can clear my name?” she said. Things were starting to come together in her head.

  Only when Julian nodded and settled back into his seat did Salomeh realize they had both leaned toward each other until their faces had nearly been touching. Her seat belt bit into her shoulder, tugging her back into her seat, but she hadn’t noticed as he spoke. Even when she was angry with him, she couldn’t resist the pull he had on her.

  “Well, we only know you exist because I came across a conversation between Alexi Turginov and his girlfriend discussing ruining a teacher,” he said. “I cross-referenced newspapers from around that time period and came up with a match.”

  Salomeh’s breath left her body at the levels of implication in his words. People had coldly and callously decided to hurt her. She had known the decision had to be made somewhere and that Alexi and Ms. Kaslinko were involved, but knowing it had been discussed beforehand left her feeling cold and empty. As did another pertinent fact.

  “You knew,” she said. “You knew that you had evidence that could exonerate me before you talked to me, and you slept with me anyway.”

  She felt she would be ill.

  “I’m sorry,” Julian said. “The evidence is tied up with our investigations, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

  “You should have told me the truth from the beginning,” she said quietly, the anger draining from her as her adrenaline high bottomed out. She wished she had never left her bed at Marta’s prompting and that she was still curled up beneath her blankets. She had been miserable, but at least she hadn’t been a fool.

  Salomeh glanced at Yates, who stared straight ahead, pretending she wasn’t caught in the middle of their soap opera as she guided the car into the rightmost lane.

  Salomeh looked at the green exit sign. KEW GARDENS, QUEENS.

  She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind of the anger, the fear, and the uncertainty. Julian meant nothing. Yates meant nothing. Salomeh’s ego meant nothing. The only thing that would make everything she had gone through worthwhile was finding Yelena and clearing her name.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As they drove through the familiar Queens neighborhood, Julian stared at the restaurants that spoke of its diversity—Russian, Pakistani, Uzbek, Indian. Here an Italian place, there a Chinese hole in the wall. It was inspiring how many people had come to this country seeking a better life, but he wondered how many of them had ever been able to shake free of the shackles of their homeland. He certainly hadn’t been able to. The dozens upon dozens of Albanian boys he had met over the course of this investigation with their baggy pants and gold chains and dreams of being gangsters— none of those boys had been able to escape. So many of them ended up dead or in jail, caught in the same web that would have ensnared them back home, but with an American twist.

  He heard Salomeh shift in the backseat, heard the shaky inhalation of breath that he knew meant she was trying not to cry. Because of him.

  So what? an old familiar voice demanded. The younger Julian, brash and cocksure and not caring who got hurt—until it was too late. You were doing your job. She’ll get over it and so will you.

  It was probably true, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to slide into the backseat to cradle her warm body against his. To run his finger along her jawline, and to have her snuggle closer to him.

  He didn’t deserve it, but he wanted her forgiveness.

  “Almost there,” Yates said for Salomeh’s benefit, with a glance at him. Even in that quick meeting of the eyes, he noticed the curiosity and concern. He and Yates had a collegial relationship, mostly based on mutual hard work and her desire to constantly bust his balls, so the fact that she had been so quiet for the duration of their trip spoke to how bad this situation must look.

  They pulled up outside of an imposing brick building. There were no windows to be seen, and it loomed over the neighboring structures, exuding a sense of foreboding.

  “This is it?” Salomeh asked as she exited the car, artfully avoiding the hand Julian offered to her. She gave the building a once-over and seemed to be steeling herself for whatever awaited her.

  “Actually, we’re across the street,” Julian said. He pointed to a nondescript building with yellow aluminum siding. It looked like the other three-family houses in the neighborhood, and even had a small garden in front, complete with patchy grass and wilted roses.

  “That’s just some weird transportation authority building,” Yates said, squinting up at the larger building. “But when we bring in people who are being uncooperative, we like to tell them it’s a detainee torture center.”

  Salomeh rolled her eyes and followed Julian as he crossed the street.

  “It’s not necessarily a lie,” Yates said. “We don’t know what the MTA does in there. They could be kneecapping turnstile jumpers for all we know.”

  That elicited a small smile from Salomeh, one that quickly faded when she noticed Julian looking at her. He figured she didn’t want him thinking that she found lies of any form acceptable.

  The office was mostly empty due to the holiday weekend, although a few harried-looking agents sat at their desks plowing through paperwork. Whatever was going down with the West African syndicate, it was happening soon, and they still had no idea when or where it was taking place.

  “Great, I lost my cell during our escape from Alcatraz. I need to make a phone call,” Salomeh said.

  “Who do you want to call?” Yates asked.

  “My friend Marta,” Salomeh answered and then narrowed her eyes in Julian’s direction. “You know, my friend who’s conveniently your neighbor.”

  “Why?” Yates pressed.

  “Because she’s my friend, and I want her to know I’m okay,” Salomeh snapped.

  “Just let her call, Yates,” Julian cut in. “She’s been through a lot today. Let
her use one of the untraceable lines.”

  Yates motioned to Salomeh with a jerk of her head, and they both left the room.

  Julian slumped in his chair, absentmindedly fingering the picture on his desk as his mind raced, the questions piling up like Tetris blocks.

  He finally let himself think about what could have happened if he hadn’t been at Salomeh’s apartment, and the thought chilled him. Why had they chosen to go after her now? She had already been discredited in the media, and without Yelena, she had no evidence. Something wasn’t adding up.

  Yates appeared in the doorway, cracking open a can of soda as she walked into the room. She had a bemused look on her face.

  “So,” she began and then took a swig of her soda. “That was interesting.”

  “It’s been a hell of a morning,” Julian said. Now that he was sitting and his adrenaline had stopped pumping, he could feel every blow he had taken that day. At least he was used to this lifestyle. He wondered how Salomeh was holding up.

  “You want to tell me what happened before Henderson gets in? He’s on his way now, and he’s not happy. He was out playing golf on Long Island and doesn’t appreciate the interruption.”

  “Well, as I told you via text, last night I began trying to gather information from Salomeh—Miss Jones. It seemed she didn’t actually know anything about Bardhyn, although he had set her up. This morning, she fled before I could finish our discussion. I followed her to her apartment and discovered she had just been assaulted by one of Bardhyn’s men, Alexi. The same Alexi from the transcript that led us to learn of Miss Jones’s existence.”

  He tried to say it calmly, but Yates was as good an investigator as he was. He was sure she picked up on his agitation.

  “While waiting for you to arrive, we were attacked in her apartment by men claiming to be the police. They were planning to kill Miss Jones and take me to Bardhyn.”