Showdown

by Cindy Dees

“Pick him up. Take him back to the hotel. I’ll meet you there.”

  Sebastian ran down the street to the east, not really expecting to spot the fleeing vehicle. He reached a major thoroughfare, still reasonably busy, and gave up. No telling what car had been in that loading dock. What a mess. He’d lost the counterfeiter, and Zane had handed over the damned plates. Their main lead was gone, and Erebus would disappear into the shadows once more. It could be years before they got another chance to identify a member of the organization and pull at that thread. Unless, of course, Zane was one of them and led him to his superiors within Erebus.

  Disgusted, Sebastian raced back to the building he’d used to surveil the meeting in order to pack up his rifle and sanitize his perch on top of the building. He glanced down into the alley. The truck was gone. More shocking, though, was the fact that no bodies were lying down there. He hadn’t specifically been trying to kill anyone tonight, but he’d dropped three men. At a minimum, he’d injured them all badly enough that none of them would have been ambulatory. Someone had to have been waiting in that truck to clean up the bodies. As soon as he got clear of this place, he’d call Pere and have his guys run the plates on the truck. Ten to one they’d be stolen, though.

  The urgent problem now was to clear out of here before cops responded to the building alarm he’d set off. He had maybe two or three minutes at most before someone arrived to check it out. Working fast, he wiped down the whole area to destroy any fingerprints and used a handheld battery-operated vacuum to pick up any stray hairs or skin cells he might have left behind. Using a high-powered flashlight, he searched quickly for threads or fibers. Clean.

  A siren became audible. Hefting the rifle case over his shoulder, he ran down the stairs once more. Pere was going to be deeply disappointed in him. The Wild Cards, Inc. had gone to great lengths last year to place a guy undercover inside Erebus, high within the crime ring. The mole could only take so many chances—like revealing the existence of those currency plates—before he was discovered.

  Worse, Sebastian knew from personal experience that undercover operatives had an expiration date. Even the best of operators got lost in their roles or so exhausted by keeping up the charade that they eventually slipped and made a fatal mistake.

  This mess was his fault.

  He’d known something was up when Zane suddenly had to go to the ballet. He should have listened to his gut, dammit. But he’d figured this rendezvous would only be an information dump. He’d had no idea Erebus would move so fast to get the plates back. And Zane had shown every indication of wanting to take him along for the actual handoff.

  God, he’d totally misread Zane, who’d turned out to be a hell of an actor—and a hell of a liar. Zane had never intended to take him to this meeting at all. Betrayal and disappointment roiled in his stomach in a toxic stew.

  That didn’t automatically condemn the guy to being an Erebus agent, of course. But tonight sure made it look probable that Zane was at least in cahoots with Erebus, if not an employee of the consortium outright.

  He should have seen that there was much more to Zane than met the eye. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  He’d been so besotted by the model, so dazzled by his beauty and sophistication, that he’d been totally hoodwinked. That made him worse than dumb. It made him a gullible fool.

  He slipped out into the alley to avoid the police who were pulling up to the front door of the building. Moving stealthily now, he made his way to the north exit, turned onto the street, and made his way forward, walking as casually as he could, to a major thoroughfare, where he hailed a cab. He collapsed in the back of it, glaring at the city outside. Reluctantly he admitted to himself that his infatuation with Zane hadn’t helped matters. He’d been blinded by the guy’s looks and charm. Okay, fine. And by my own out-of-control lust.

  He was batting oh-for-two tonight. He’d lost the plates and the lead they represented on Erebus, and he’d lost a shot at an honest, real relationship with one of the most attractive guys he’d ever met. Dammit! He smacked his palm hard on his gun case, and the stinging pain jolted him out of his momentary loss of control.

  He had to talk to Zane. Question him. Maybe he’d gotten a decent look at the speaker’s face before the gunfire erupted. There had to be something salvageable out of tonight’s fiasco.

  Sebastian’s mind raced as it kicked over into damage-control mode. By the time he got back to the hotel, he had a plan. And it started with Zane Stryker spilling everything he knew about Erebus, no matter what it took.

  He paid the cabbie, strode into the Towers, and rode the elevator upward in grim silence. He paused in front of the suite door to gather his resolve. He could do this. No mercy.

  Chapter Nine

  ZANE WAS going to barf. His hands shook almost too much to pour himself a shot of vodka. And his legs felt in imminent danger of collapse. He’d been genuinely scared a few times in his life, but nothing like this. When those gunshots had started—and he’d been standing out there all alone and exposed in that alley—and there’d been nowhere to hide, nowhere to run—

  He slammed back the vodka and poured himself another one. The fiery pain in his throat distracted him momentarily from his terror. But as the alcohol hit, his already disjointed thoughts jumped around even more wildly. He’d been so grateful when that car pulled up beside him and Etienne yelled through the rolled-down driver’s window for him to get in, he’d about fainted on the spot.

  And now he had to face the music. Sebastian was going to be so mad he’d gone to the meeting alone and, furthermore, double-crossed him. He wouldn’t be happy to hear about the black burner phone either.

  Truth be told, Sebastian had been nothing but decent to him from the very beginning, and the man seemed to really care about his safety. He genuinely liked the guy. Respected him, even. And here he was backstabbing him. Talk about feeling like a schmuck.

  After this fiasco, he was determined to come clean about the whole thing to Sebastian, though Zane had no idea how to make this mess right. But he would find a way to make it right between them if it was humanly possible.

  The suite’s door opened and he whirled, his hands coming up defensively. Which was a joke. He didn’t know the first thing about fighting or even defending himself. He’d learned young to charm everyone and be a shameless clown. Keep ’em laughing, always be on stage with all eyes on him, and then nobody would beat the shit out of the gay kid. It was a frantic, exhausting existence, but it had worked in its own way.

  Sebastian barged into the suite, looking mad enough to kill someone. Steam wasn’t exactly coming out of his ears, but it might as well have been, given the blackness of the scowl on his face and the tightness of his square jaw. Zane’s terror at facing Sebastian was abruptly joined by waves of guilt.

  “Are you all right?” Sebastian asked tersely. “You didn’t get shot?”

  “No,” Zane answered, startled.

  “Are you sure? It’s not uncommon for people not to realize they’ve been shot in the adrenaline rush of the moment. Have you checked yourself over for blood?”

  Zane looked down at his shirt, alarmed.

  “Turn around,” Sebastian ordered, striding toward him.

  Zane braced himself for he knew not what. Sebastian was visibly furious but ran his brisk, efficient hands over Zane’s back, down his ribs and legs, quickly frisking him. It dawned on Zane that Sebastian was probably checking as much for a concealed weapon as he was for injuries. He definitely felt both phones but made no comment on them.

  Disappointed, Zane turned to face Sebastian and walked across the room to put a coffee table between them. Not that the knee-high table would slow down Sebastian one bit if the man lost his temper. Still, it made him feel marginally safer.

  He looked up warily, and Sebastian’s arms were crossed, his jaw clenched, and his stare accusing. His silence was definitely more unnerving to Zane than a screaming fit would have been.

  The silence stretched out between them unti
l he couldn’t stand it any longer. He burst out, “I found a cell phone in the pocket of the suit. I got a message to go to the ballet, and during the intermission of the performance, I got another message to meet someone in that alley.”

  More intense, brooding silence out of Sebastian. Dammit, he didn’t know what more the guy needed to hear.

  “I know I should have told you,” Zane blurted. “I’m sorry. But I just wanted to get it over with, and the guy on the phone said to come alone.”

  Still nothing out of Sebastian.

  “I know you wanted to go with me. But I didn’t want to mess it up. And I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”

  That got a reaction out of Sebastian. First a look of disbelief, and then, “You couldn’t trust me? That’s laughable. If I was one of the bad guys, I could’ve killed you and taken the plates for myself at any time.”

  Sebastian paced the length of the living room and back with taut, agitated movements, looking with every step like he was about to explode.

  Zane winced and took a deep breath. He was the cause of Sebastian’s rage, and Sebastian was not overreacting. “Look. I didn’t know who you were when you whisked me out of the airport. Then I was freaked-out when I saw what was in my suitcase, and more freaked-out when you said some international crime ring was using me. And then you hinted that they might kill me instead of—”

  “Instead of what?” Sebastian asked sharply.

  He would really rather not mention the offer of a million dollars. He didn’t want to seem like a greedy money-grubber to this ultra-wealthy man. Not that it mattered now what Sebastian thought of him, of course. He’d already blown it between them pretty thoroughly. If only there were a way to make this right.

  He mumbled, “I had no way of knowing if you were one of them or not.”

  “Me? How do I know you’re not one of them?” Sebastian demanded back.

  “What?” Zane stared at him, shocked.

  Sebastian closed the distance between them and got right up in Zane’s business, nose to nose with him. “Time for some straight talk. And I have extensive training in detecting deception, so don’t even try lying to me. Are you an agent of Erebus?”

  “I’ve never heard that name, let alone am an agent for whoever that is.” He added desperately, “Do I seriously strike you as some sort of secret agent type?”

  “No. And that’s what worries the hell out of me. I don’t know how good an actor you are. How much did you make them pay you to deliver their plates?”

  Damn, damn, damn. He really didn’t want to bring up the money.

  But he sensed that if he wasn’t completely honest with Sebastian, right here, right now, then that was it between them. Sebastian would never trust him again.

  “I didn’t make them pay me anything. They texted me on that burned phone like I said before. They said they would pay me for the delivery or they would kill me.”

  “How much?”

  “A million dollars.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  Zane snorted. “Look. I’m getting old. I’ve got one more season in me, and then I’m done as a fashion model. I’m broke, and I really need that money to start a new life. Build a new career. It was nothing personal against you, I swear.”

  Sebastian stared at him a long time. He eventually muttered, “I wish I could believe you.”

  “What do I have to do to convince you?”

  “That’s the thing. Nothing you can say will help. I have no way of knowing if you’re lying or telling the truth.”

  “What about this?” He pulled out the burner phone and shoved it at Sebastian. “Here’s their damned phone. The texts are still there. Read them.”

  Sebastian took the phone and grimly scrolled through it. “They could’ve given you this burner and sent you those messages to make you look innocent.”

  Zane stepped back and took a turn around the living room in frustration of his own. Then he came to a stop in front of Sebastian, and they stared at each other in a standoff so fraught with tension, Zane felt on the verge of shattering. This was real life. He’d just been shot at. Bad people had tried to kill him. This was no hypothetical, semicool spy adventure.

  Their stares clashed while their heavy breathing synced up. Sebastian’s fists clenched and unclenched, and Zane’s stomach muscles clenched and unclenched in response. Tendons corded in Sebastian’s powerful neck, disappearing inside his collar. A pulse throbbed in Sebastian’s temple, and Zane was startled to realize that his own heartbeat had sped up to match that metronomic pulsing of hot blood in Sebastian’s veins.

  “How did you know I would be in that alley?” he asked.

  “I followed you, of course. The ballet? Really? A ticket becomes available out of the clear blue, when you’re sitting on massively valuable and illegal printing plates that an anonymous bad guy wants back?”

  Zane had to smile a little. “Hey, it wasn’t my idea.”

  “Here’s the problem: If you’re telling the truth about not being part of Erebus, you’re in more danger than ever. Just because they’ve got the plates now doesn’t mean they won’t want to silence you permanently.”

  “But I did what they wanted. I didn’t tell anyone and I met them. Hell, I even came alone to the meeting as far as I knew.”

  Sebastian shrugged. “This isn’t about what you did or didn’t do. It’s about powerful and paranoid criminals covering their tracks.”

  He heard Sebastian. He knew in his head that his logic was perfectly sound. But his heart refused to accept the idea of him being in mortal danger. He didn’t choose this! He didn’t do anything to deserve this.

  “Why did they use someone outside their circle of trust to smuggle the plates in the first place?” he asked the universe.

  He was surprised when Sebastian actually answered. “That’s easy. The feds and various international law enforcement agencies are crawling all up in Erebus’s business right now. There was no way one of their known guys could’ve made it into the United States without being detained, searched, and arrested. They had to use a mule.”

  “Why me?” he blurted. “God knows I’ve done some stupid shit in my life that should’ve gotten me dead. But I’ve been doing better the past few years. I finally got my life together, and then bam. Out of the blue. These criminals choose my suitcase to hide their damned contraband in.”

  Sebastian sighed. “In my experience, life is rarely fair. You caught a bad break. It happens.”

  “Seems like bad breaks are all I catch. When am I finally going to catch a good one for a change?”

  Sebastian seemed to understand that the question was rhetorical and didn’t answer it. Instead, he said soberly, “If I’m going to keep you alive, I need you to be honest with me.”

  “You’re still going to protect me? Why? I thought your only interest was in seeing who came to pick up the plates from me. Now that these Erebus guys have shown themselves, don’t you have what you need?”

  “Not exactly. The guy with the briefcase got away from me. I expected him to leave via that truck in the alley, and I had Etienne stationed in the street, watching the truck. But the plates were taken to a second getaway vehicle, and I lost them.”

  “Oh.”

  Sebastian sighed heavily. “Yeah. Oh.” After a pause, he added, “But even if I knew exactly where the plates had gone, I couldn’t very well abandon you to whatever dire fate Erebus has planned for you.”

  That made him stare. “Why not?”

  Sebastian stared back, looking unwilling, or maybe unable, to express why in words. Did the man have feelings for him, or was he hoping to pick up the trail of the bad guys again when they came to kill him? Was this personal, or was it purely business? Did he dare hope that Sebastian felt something more than casual lust toward him?

  “Tell me everything,” Sebastian declared. He sat down on the sofa and got comfortable, as if he planned to stay here until Zane told him all he wanted to know.

  Everything? Like h
ow he’d initially planned to collect the million dollars behind Sebastian’s back and ditch him once he had the money? No, thank you.

  Desperate to distract Sebastian, he took a step closer, bringing them chest to chest. “First, tell me something. Was it you who shot at those guys in the alley? It was, wasn’t it? You saved my life, didn’t you?”

  Sebastian’s gaze slid away, and Zane stepped to the side, into his line of sight, forcing Sebastian to look at him. Quietly, sincerely, he said, “Thank you. No one’s ever done anything even remotely like that for me before.”

  Sebastian snorted. “I should hope not. But you’re welcome. I’m sorry the handoff didn’t go more smoothly. I should have done more to protect you. To be there for you.”

  For you. The words resonated through Zane’s soul like rolling thunder. Sebastian had potentially killed for him tonight. That was so intense, Zane didn’t know how to even begin to react to it. Words failing him, he shook his head in disbelief. While on a moral level it was appalling that it had come to a dangerous shootout, on some deep, personal level, it was kind of amazing.

  “I’m sorry I put you in a situation where you had to shoot somebody.”

  “It’s not that big a deal,” Sebastian mumbled. “I’m a soldier. It’s what I do.”

  “You’re a retired soldier. It’s what you did. I dragged you back into a world you left behind a long time ago.”

  It was Sebastian’s turn to stare. “How did you know that?”

  “If shooting people was still routine for you, you wouldn’t have been so upset when you got back here.”

  Their gazes met once more, this time infused with understanding. Dawning knowledge of each other. Sharing the adrenaline rush of having survived a lethal confrontation.

  “Are we okay?” Zane murmured.

  “No. We’re not.” Sebastian surged to his feet as if he was too wound up to sit still any longer.

  “What can I do to make it right?” He stepped forward, meeting Sebastian as he came around the end of the coffee table.

  “You don’t owe me anything, Zane.”