by Lori Sjoberg
“Don’t you understand? I couldn’t tell anyone! Our handlers wouldn’t have let me keep him.” The anguish in Elena’s voice was enough to rip a hole in his chest. “You know how they were. I thought once I defected, I could convince you to do the same.”
She should have known he’d never turn against his country. It simply wasn’t in his blood. But she was right about one thing: the KGB wouldn’t have permitted her to carry a child to term. Not after she’d gained a position of trust within the U.S. State Department. In those days, women didn’t work after having children. A pregnancy would have ended her career and her ability to advance the Soviet agenda.
“You should have trusted me. We could have found a way.”
“How? Your loyalty to the motherland was beyond question.”
“I—I would have thought of something.” Anything. To protect his child, he would have moved mountains. If she had only trusted him with the truth, they could have avoided so much pain.
Dmitri stood and stalked to the bureau. The pictures on top held a lifetime of memories. His son’s wedding. The birth of his grandchildren. Years of Christmas and birthday celebrations. The nurse was right. His youngest grandson looked just like him.
He’d missed watching his son’s first steps. He never got to teach him how to tie his shoes, or ride a bike, or any of the other things a father did with his son. The aching loss cut straight to the bone, and he doubted the agony would ever subside.
Squaring his shoulders, he stalked back to Elena, kneeled in front of her, and took her frail hands in his. “What did you name our boy?”
“Alexander. I wanted to name him Dmitri, but they told me I should choose a more American-sounding name.” Her bottom lip trembled. “I told him all about you. He’s a good man, Dima, just like his father.”
His heart knotted as thousands of questions crowded his mind. There were so many things he wanted to know, but there simply wasn’t enough time. If they stayed too long, someone might start asking questions he didn’t want to answer. “What is he like?”
A prideful smile creased Elena’s lips. “Even as a child, Alexander had a strength that drew people to him like a magnet. He’s smart, and he’s kind, and he stands by his principles, no matter the cost.” Her smile faded as tears welled in her eyes. “He’s so much like you, Dima. The way he looks, the sound of his voice. He carries himself the way you do. I see you every time I look at him, and even though I love him with all my soul, it tears me to pieces. I hate myself for what I did to you, but I don’t regret my decision.”
Dmitri squeezed his eyes shut. So many emotions boiled inside him, it was impossible to identify them all. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. She’d flipped his entire world upside down, and he had no idea how to fix it.
Through the fog of torment, he felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder. “Be strong,” Gwen whispered in Russian. “I know you can do this.”
He opened his eyes to find Elena watching him with an expression that matched the misery he felt inside. He had so many reasons to despise her. Unfiltered anger coursed through his veins, sparking an almost overwhelming urge to punch something.
But he couldn’t bring himself to harm the woman who’d raised his only son. Looking beyond the searing rage, he understood her motivations. In a moment of sheer desperation, she’d sacrificed her husband in the name of her child. How many other women would have made the same choice?
He strained to inhale and let it out with a whoosh. Deep down, he knew what he had to do, but that didn’t make it any easier. Summoning every last ounce of his courage, he forced himself to meet her gaze.
“I forgive you, golubushka.” It damn near killed him, but he choked the words out. “What’s past is past. You did what you did for the sake of our child, and for that … I am grateful.”
He felt hollow inside, as if someone had just ripped his guts out. He needed to leave before he lost all sense of composure. Head pounding, pulse racing, he stood and turned toward the door.
“Wait!” Elena cried out before he reached the exit. He looked back to see her digging through the top drawer of her nightstand. Every instinct told him to get the fuck out of there, but his feet refused to move. A few seconds later she pulled out an old book and held it out to him. “Please. I want you to have this.”
In her hands was a small photo album, its cover dulled with age.
“Please,” she repeated. A tear rolled down her cheek.
Dmitri nodded as he accepted the book of memories. “Thank you. Be well, golubushka.”
In an act of self-preservation, he left the room without looking back. Gwen followed a few feet behind, her shoes squeaking faintly against the tiles. In silence, they rode the elevator to the first floor and strode out the main exit. The air outside felt hot and humid, a stark contrast to the air conditioning inside. With the press of a button, the car doors unlocked, and he slid behind the wheel.
After taking a deep breath, then another, and another, Dmitri set the album against the steering wheel and flipped through the weathered pages. My son. My blood. Knowing he had a child filled his soul with joy and shredded it at the same time. His vision blurred as he viewed Alexander’s life through a collection of black-and-white and color photographs.
Gwen reached across the console and touched his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please understand, I gave Elena my word.”
He should have been furious with her for keeping the secret, but what was the fucking point? Helpless, speechless, he stared out the windshield, lost in the sorrow that threatened to consume him.
Digging deep, he called upon all of his training to push back against the crushing despair. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. He repeated the process, over and over, until he suppressed the unwanted emotions. He’d deal with them later, when he was alone.
With his jaw set tight, he jammed the key in the ignition and turned it until the engine roared to life. “Let’s get this over with,” he said as he shoved the car into gear.
Chapter 22
Dmitri hadn’t spoken since they left Dos Rios, and his silence was driving Gwen crazy.
The vein on his forehead hadn’t stopped pulsing, and his nostrils flared with each measured exhale. It must have been taking every ounce of his control to keep himself in check. Which was totally understandable, given the circumstances. It wasn’t every day a man found out he was a father to a grown son. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what must be going through his mind. Would he ever forgive her for keeping Elena’s secret? Not knowing the answer twisted her stomach in knots.
“Where are we going?” she finally asked because she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
“Checking in with the leader of the local unit,” he replied without taking his eyes off the road. There wasn’t a shred of emotion to his voice. “He runs a tight ship, and he’ll know if Ziegler’s in town.”
Made sense. If she remembered correctly, David Anderson handled this section of Florida, from Vero Beach to Key West. She’d worked with him a few times over the years. He was a good guy, solid, and he cared about his people, which was probably why they valued his leadership.
A few more turns and they pulled into an apartment complex in the middle of Pembroke Pines. The three-story buildings were painted the color of clay with ceramic tiles covering the roofs. A row of palm trees stood in front of each building, swaying with the gentle breeze.
Dmitri cut the engine and got out of the car, and Gwen followed him up the stairs to the second floor. He knocked, and a few seconds later a shadow passed over the peephole. Then the locks disengaged and the door opened to the sight of David Anderson.
He hadn’t changed a bit since the last time she’d seen him. That short blond hair, those rugged features. And judging by way his chest strained against his shirt, he still went to the gym on a regular basis. He was still every bit the all-American soldier he’d been prior to becoming
a reaper.
If he was surprised to see them, he didn’t let it show. David’s gaze locked with Dmitri’s for a second or two before he nodded and opened the door wider. “Come on in,” he said, his face giving nothing away.
Dmitri and Gwen stepped inside, and David closed the door behind them.
The place was roomy, with an open floor plan and high ceilings that made it appear larger than it was. A matching couch and recliner sat in front of a television that was tuned in to one of those twenty-four-hour news stations. To the left, on the adjacent wall, were shelves overflowing with books. A few feminine touches—like the vase full of flowers on the dining room table—indicated he no longer lived alone.
David switched off the television and tossed the remote on the couch. When he turned toward them, a smile warmed his mouth. “It’s good to see you, Gwen,” he said as he pulled her in for a hug. “How long has it been? Eleven years?”
“Thirteen. You flew up to help me with that job in Chicago, remember?”
“Oh, yeah, I remember now. God, that one sucked.” David hugged her so hard she could barely breathe. When he pulled back, he ruffled her hair. “You’ve cut your hair. It looks good.”
“Thanks.” Leave it to David to notice. He’d always been a stickler for details. From the corner of her eye, Gwen noticed an attractive brunette dressed in shorts and a gray T-shirt standing by the entrance to the kitchen. The woman was a few inches taller than Gwen, with shoulder-length hair and sharp brown eyes. She watched them all with open interest but didn’t speak a word.
David’s gaze met the woman’s, and his expression softened. Whoever the brunette was, she made him happy, which made her okay in Gwen’s book. “I’d like you to meet Sarah, my better half. Sarah, this is Gwen. We worked together for a few years before I came down to Florida.”
Sarah gave her a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you.”
Gwen accepted the hand Sarah offered, appreciating the fact that Sarah didn’t have one of those limp, dead fish handshakes. She also didn’t act threatened by another woman hugging her man. That was a relief. With everything going on between her and Dmitri, the last thing she needed to deal with was a jealous spouse.
Sarah’s attention shifted to Dmitri, and her smile slipped a notch or two. “Nice to see you.”
Dmitri nodded. “Likewise. You look well.”
Reaching over, David gripped Sarah’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “So where the hell have you two been? Adam’s been bugging the shit out of me ever since you went off the radar.”
Tension rolled off Dmitri in waves. He took a deep breath before launching into a recap of what had happened over the course of their mission. He said nothing about what went on between them, and Gwen appreciated his discretion. “We have reason to believe Ziegler’s in the vicinity,” Dmitri said when he finished. “Have you seen him or heard anything from him?”
David shook his head. “I met with my crew two nights ago, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I’ll put out a few calls, though, and see if anything’s changed.”
“Thank you.” Dmitri’s voice was clipped and his posture rigid. “There’s one other thing I need to speak with you about. Privately.”
Dmitri’s terse demeanor wasn’t lost on David. His expression hardened as he draped a protective arm around Sarah’s shoulders. “Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of Sarah. She’s one of us now.”
Dmitri shook his head. “Not this. I need to speak with you alone. Is there any place we can go?”
Gwen knew exactly what Dmitri wanted to talk with him about, and she didn’t want to be around when it happened. “Go with him,” she said quietly to David. “Please.”
David shifted his attention to Sarah. “Babe, would you mind—”
“No, you two go ahead,” Sarah said. “It’ll give us girls time to get to know each other. Isn’t that right?”
“Of course.” Gwen forced out a smile that must have looked as hollow as she felt inside. Honestly, she wasn’t in the mood to socialize, but she’d do whatever it took if it gave Dmitri the chance to work through his issues.
Dmitri turned back for an instant when he reached the door. His eyes met hers, but instead of the affection she’d grown accustomed to seeing, his eyes were filled with a cold detachment that tore a gash in her soul.
“Be safe,” she said as he followed David outside, the door clicking shut behind him.
Gwen closed the door separating the laundry room from the kitchen and crossed into the main living area. “Thanks again for the loaner clothes, and for letting me use your washing machine.”
“Oh, no problem.” Sarah was sitting on the couch with her legs tucked under her and the remote control in her hand. When Gwen joined her on the couch, she pressed a button, and the romantic comedy they’d been watching resumed playing. “Good thing we’re close to the same size.”
Amen. After being in the woods for the better part of a week, it felt wonderful to wear freshly cleaned clothes. The yoga pants Sarah lent her were a little too long, but a quick roll of the cuffs solved that problem.
Gwen checked the time and resisted the urge to chew on her nails. The guys had been gone for over an hour, and she was starting to get nervous. Not that she didn’t enjoy Sarah’s company, but she was dying to know how Dmitri was doing.
“Any idea where the guys went off to?” she asked. Wherever they were, she hoped David would be able to help Dmitri work through some of his anger.
Sarah shook her head. “I can’t say for sure. There’s a place nearby where David likes to play darts—” The words died on her lips as she cocked her head. “We’re about to have company.”
“The guys?”
“No. Reapers.” Sarah paused, her eyes pinched tight with concentration. “Four men and a woman. Two are coming up the stairs, one’s climbing the balcony, and the other two are waiting in the parking lot in case we manage to get past them.”
“You can sense all that?” Most reapers could detect the presence of another immortal, but not with so much attention to detail.
Sarah nodded, and Gwen couldn’t help but wonder how a newbie reaper got so strong so quickly. Granted, she had a great trainer in David, but her level of development was unheard of.
Rushing to the window, Gwen peeked between the blinds. Yep, two reapers, a man and a woman, were standing sentinel next to Dmitri’s car. Another was almost over the balcony rail. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! She should have known something like this would happen. Reaching into her back pocket, she grabbed for her cell. No reception. Not that it mattered—it was Dmitri’s cell, so it wasn’t like she could call him anyway. “Is your phone working?”
Sarah checked. “No, I’m not getting any bars.”
Great. That meant the reapers outside were probably jamming the signal so they couldn’t call for help. And as luck would have it, Dmitri’s weapons were locked in the trunk of the rental car. They were on their own. Gwen’s gaze darted around the apartment. “What do you have in the way of weapons? Any guns?”
Sarah shook her head. “David has one, but he keeps it in the glove box of his car. I have a canister of pepper spray in my purse, and there’s a baseball bat by the front door.”
Not much, but it was better than nothing. Gwen did a quick inventory of the kitchen and saw a butcher’s block with seven knives. That might come in handy if things got really messy.
“Two against five isn’t very good odds,” Sarah said, her brow crinkling with worry.
“I’m surprised they didn’t come with more.” Maybe they’d waited for the guys to leave and weren’t expecting much resistance from a couple of women. A stupid assumption on their part, and one she was willing to exploit.
Gwen grabbed the bat, crossed the room, and threw open the balcony door. By now, the guy had managed to climb over the wrought iron railing. His eyes widened at the sight of the bat swinging toward the side of his head. A crack, a yelp, and he staggered against the rail. Gwen shoved him with all
her strength, and he tumbled over the side and onto the walkway below.
“One down, four to go,” she said as she stepped back inside. As she turned the lock, someone knocked on the front door. “Do they honestly think we’re just going to let them in?”
Another knock, but this time it sounded more like a kick.
“Guess not. Let me see what I can do.” Sarah stared at the closed front door, a thousand-yard look in her eyes. “Pain,” she snarled, and the men outside screamed.
Gwen ran to the door and checked the peephole. Sure enough, both men were writhing on the floor like they’d been zapped with the business end of a cattle prod. “Well, there’s something you don’t see every day. How did you do that?”
Most humans were prone to the power of suggestion. Fledgling reapers were susceptible as well because their minds hadn’t strengthened enough to withstand the mental assault. The gift worked wonders in tough situations, when brute force alone couldn’t bail you out of a bind. But even then, most reapers needed to be in the direct line of sight to place the thought in the target’s mind. In all Gwen’s years, she’d never seen or heard of anyone capable of implanting commands in the seasoned mind of another reaper, much less through the barrier of a door. Only Samuel possessed that level of power.
Or so she’d thought.
Sarah hitched a shoulder. “I don’t know. I just can.” She let out a pained sound as she rubbed her temples. “It takes a lot out of me, though. Let me take a shot at the other two before I run out of juice.”
Gwen followed Sarah as she unlocked the door and stepped onto the balcony. The two remaining reapers, a man and a woman, were busy tending to the guy Gwen had pushed over the rail. Blood pooled on the ground where the guy’s head hit the concrete, and his right leg was bent at a weird angle. The pair of reapers looked up at the sound of the door opening, their faces twisted with malice. One of them reached for the pistol in his shoulder holster.
