DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 1

by james

  different.” She studied him, watched the way his eyes darkened, hardened to dark stones.

  “I’m just me,” he said, his voice low and edged. Yet, she could almost hear a plea

  in it.

  She cupped his face. “Yes, you are, thank Gawd, just you.” And I think I might be

  falling for you.

  He turned his head, held her wrist and kissed her palm.

  “You’ll watch her until I get back.”

  She huffed out a breath. “I’m coming with you.” The idea of him waltzing down

  the streets worried her.

  He shook his head and let her hand drop. “No, Rori, you’re not.” He picked his

  bag up.

  That order. That right there. Her anger returned in a rush. “Just who the bloody

  hell do you think you are? I’m not yours to order about.” She stalked up to him just as he

  opened the door. “And you’re not going alone.”

  His hand on the open door, he looked back at her over his shoulder and again, a

  shiver danced down her spine at his change. “You will stay here. And I’m not going

  alone.”

  She growled. She couldn’t help it. Man made her barking mad. “Of course, how

  could I forget the esteemable Brasher.” She looked at the end of the hallway where the

  said man had just topped the stairs. Upon seeing them, he simply turned around and

  headed back downstairs. Smart man.

  “You don’t order me about They may think I’m your wife, but I’m not a damn lap

  dog that stays simply because you ordered it.” She looked at him, noted the muscle ticked

  in his jaw.

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 185

  He stepped back and slammed the door. He took two steps to her and grabbed

  both her arms. His face in hers, his teeth clinched, his voice low and cold as an ice storm,

  he said, “You are most definitely mine, Lenora Maitland Kinncaid. You might not think

  this marriage is real, but it is legal in every damn way that counts.”

  She blinked and tried to pull back, but his hands didn’t let go. She crossed her

  wrists then shot her arms out, hitting his.

  He didn’t even flinch.

  “Let me go.”

  He jerked her closer. “Not until we get a few things straight. You’re independent,

  I admire that. I don’t want a fucking lap dog, doormat, little miss, or whatever the hell

  other label you want to stick on it.” Closer, his eyes blazed. “You might see this as just a

  cover, but legally it’s not. Your country, my country, whatever fucking country we’re in,

  you, Lenora Maitland, who signed said name to the marriage document with one Ian

  Rohnan Kinncaid. Both are legal names, the contract is legal and binding and that very

  much makes you mine.”

  She blinked and realized what he said was the truth. She’d never thought about it.

  What they’d done, they’d done quickly for Darya’s sake. It was always for Darya’s sake.

  He nodded. “Yeah. And if anything happened to me, I wanted to know she’d be

  cared for. Not just by my family, but by you as well.”

  “Stop reading me. And you didn’t know me.”

  His eyes still blazing, he said, “I knew enough.” His hands manacled her upper

  arms.

  “Let me go, Ian.”

  And still his eyes shot fire at her, his breath hot, his features hard. Having enough,

  she brought her foot down on his instep. He winced and let her go. She backed up and

  braced. For what she didn’t know. “I said, bloody take your hands off of me.”

  He stared for one long moment at her, shook his head, and turned, yanking the

  door open. Without a word, he picked his back up in the hall and walked away.

  She stood there for a split second then ran after him.

  “Ian wait. Wait, bloody everlasting hell” She caught up with him at the top of the

  stairs, but he kept going. “You asked for it.” She grabbed the banister and kicked out.

  He ducked and whirled, reaching up and grabbing her ankle, yanking her to him.

  She heard someone below yell. Heard John’s, “Christ.”

  Even as Ian turned and slammed her against the wall, bracing upwards to keep

  their balance and still he’d kept his arms around her so he didn’t hurt her back.

  His eyes didn’t just blaze now, they engulfed. “If you ever try a stupid ass stunt

  like that again, I won’t be responsible for my actions,” he gritted out.

  She couldn’t move. She tried to wiggle her arms free, but he had them pinned

  between him. The muscle ticked in his jaw. Taking him down on the stairs wasn’t the

  brightest of her plans. “You were rude. And I detest rude people.”

  “Johnno’s rude to you all the fucking time and I don’t see you trying to kick his

  skull in.” Still he didn’t move.

  “I didn’t try to kick your skull in, Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” she muttered. “I

  needed to get your attention.” Jutting her chin out to his, she said, “Be glad I didn’t reach

  for my gun.”

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 186

  His eyes narrowed and if possible the cold voice froze even lower. “You and I

  wouldn’t be having this conversation if you had.”

  “Why, you think you’re that good?” He’d have shot her? Not that she really would

  have shot him. Gotten his bleeding attention, which was all she wanted.

  “I don’t have to be. My boss would have shot you.”

  She took a deep breath. “You didn’t listen to me,” she tried.

  “I heard all I needed to.”

  “I don’t like being left out. Is that so bloody hard to understand?” she asked him,

  straining against the hold he had her. She couldn’t bleeding budge.

  “And I need you here.”

  “Why are you going as Petrolov?” she asked.

  He closed his eyes and sighed, whispering, “Rori, what do you think?” Opening

  his eyes, he looked at her, the anger not by any means gone, but banked. “What would

  make us safer?”

  Us. Not me. Not Darya and me. Us.

  She searched his eyes and saw he meant it. “Us?” she ventured.

  “I knew exactly what I was doing for more reasons than one,” he said

  ambiguously.

  She sighed. “Why are you taking John?”

  He leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, his breath hot against her

  mouth. She didn’t know who all watched below and frankly, she didn’t care.

  “I know you can handle yourself, but I couldn’t handle anything happening to you.

  Rori, I need you here. I need to know you’re safe. That our daughter is safe and that if,

  God forbid, I don’t come back, someone here will know how to hide her.” His lashes

  swept up as he looked straight into her eyes. “I need you.” He kissed her, just a press of

  lips. “Please.”

  Something in her heart opened at those words. And he’d asked, not demanded, not

  ordered. Asked. Trusted. Wanted. Needed.

  “No one’s ever needed me before,” she said, wiggling her arms.

  He didn’t ease his hold. “I do.”

  With that, he kissed her hard, his body holding hers to the wall on the stairs, his

  gun pressing against her ribs, his mouth hot and demanding, yet giving and asking all at

  the same time.

  He jerked away, then kissed her quickly again. Leaning back, he let her slide

  down until her feet were touching the stairs. He leaned down, picked up the bag and

&
nbsp; hurried down the rest of the stairs.

  Mr. Jones stood below, glaring up at her, but with a smile on his face. He

  acknowledged her with a tilt of his salt and peppered hair. Ian’s parents stood in the

  entryway gaping, John tapping his thigh impatient as usual, and Darya stood pale, her

  eyes wide as if she’d seen a ghost.

  Rori shook off her wondering thoughts and hurried down the stairs. At the bottom,

  Ian, garbed as Petrolov knelt in front of Darya When he reached for her, she jerked back

  whimpering.

  Ian’s shoulders lifted on a deep breath and he asked the girl something. She shook

  her head, then shook it again When he reached for her a second time, she glanced around

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 187

  and ran to Mr. and Mrs. Kinncaid, hiding behind Jock’s legs.

  Oh bloody hell.

  Her little face peaked out from behind Jock’s legs, tears sparkling in those blue

  eyes, before tracking down her face.

  Rori put her hand on Ian’s shoulder as he stood, shaking his head. “She won’t let

  me touch her.” His eyes, hard before, looked at her and for a moment, the pain in them

  shocked her, but he quickly masked it.

  Jock leaned down and picked up Darya, holding her against him. Ian raked a hand

  through the hair, then shoved it behind his ears, took off the coat and handed it, along

  with the bag to Rori. He walked to his parents and took a photograph from his pocket.

  She heard him speaking Russian to Darya who was frowning at him. A moment passed

  then another, then her small arms reached out to Ian.

  He took her, his shoulders relaxing. The little girl wrapped herself around him and

  wouldn’t let go.

  Rori could hear her talking softly, even as she couldn’t understand the language

  itself she could hear the questions in the tone. Ian’s voice was soft and deep as he

  answered her. And all Rori could do was watch. He showed her the photograph waiting

  for her to take it. When she did, he kissed her on her forehead and tried to hand her off to

  Jock. But Darya clung to him, staring to whimper. His voice kept its low cadence and

  finally he pulled her off him, handing her to his father. When he turned, the pain on his

  face was there for all to see.

  Rori cupped his face. “She’ll be all right.”

  He stared at her hard. “If....” Darya’s crying got louder and he squeezed his eyes

  shut.

  “We’ve got to go,” Mr. Jones said. “I’m sorry.”

  Ian’s eyes opened. “If I don’t make it back --”

  “You will,” she interrupted him.

  “If I don’t, our old passports are upstairs in the dresser. Get to our house. Keep her

  safe for me.” He opened his mouth to say something else. Grabbing the back of her neck,

  he kissed her again. “Be careful. I can’t lose you.”

  With that, he turned, joined Johnno at the front door and walked out into the

  winter night.

  His parents looked after them, Darya’s screaming grew frantic.

  Rori grabbed Pete Jones’s arm. “He’s really that good, isn’t he?”

  Pete’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

  She stared at him. “You make certain he comes home to us alive and well or

  you’ll be answering to me and cleaning up a mess of those responsible.”

  He looked from her eyes, to her hand on his arm, then met her gaze. “Is that a

  threat Ms. Maitland.”

  “It’s Mrs. Kinncaid and that’s a bloody promise.” She let go of his arm. “You

  don’t pull through and you’ll find out just why the Raven was the one chosen to take out

  The Reaper.”

  She took Darya from the Kinncaids and walked to the front door, with the girl in

  her arms, mumbling nonsensical words to her.

  At the front door, they waved at the departing car.

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 188

  Darya held the photograph he’d given her to her chest, her hiccoughs and

  shuddering breaths breaking the heart inside Rori that her husband had opened.

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 189

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  November 18; 11:54 pm; Amsterdam

  Dimitri Petrolov climbed out of the cab, the Rosse Buurt, or red-light district in

  full swing. The canal was crowded with some night revelers. He scanned the street.

  Oudezijds Achterburgwal was living up to its reputation. Women posed in the glass front

  windows. Lingerie--almost there, non existent--clothed, or didn’t those that sat, lounged

  or leaned in the windows offering wares.

  To him red light districts had always been just that, a blur of red lights, so that

  even memories of the places kept that crimson glow.

  He hated these places. He knew, without a doubt, that many of those women

  staring out would fuck more men in one night than many did their entire lives. While

  many didn’t mind their profession, there were clubs where the women simply didn’t have

  a choice.At the not-so-gentle shove on his arm, he turned to John--currently known as Jean

  Tabeier, his body guard.

  “We’re just here to walk down that ally and into that abandoned shop.”

  And the walk would undoubtedly take them right in front of one of the most

  notorious clubs in the district. Also run by one of the families who controlled holdings in

  Cheb, Prague, Berlin, and Moscow.

  Near the entrance they did what they had rehearsed. Arguing, drawing the

  attention of several people, including the two bouncers who were standing guard outside

  the door.P

  etrolov saw the gun holsters beneath their jackets and the bulge of their guns.

  He even recognized the bouncer who had accompanied his boss on several

  occasions. The man’s eyes widened and he immediately pulled out his cell phone and

  made a call.

  Knowing his job was done, he took off across the street. Hopefully no one would

  get hurt in the explosion. The fact he was willingly walking into a rigged and wired

  building was not one he wanted to contemplate.

  “You’re such a likeable chap,” John muttered. “We’ll be lucky if his boss doesn’t-

  -bloody hell.”

  Dimitri looked over his shoulder and saw the guard start after them. They reached

  the building and pulled open the door. Darkness beckoned beyond.

  Both of them had memorized the layout on the ten hour plus flight over here. They

  walked to the right ten steps, then opened the door, down the fourteen steps. Sixteen

  across the basement.

  “I don’t fucking like this, by the way,” John muttered.

  He ignored him and felt the wall. The door handle was just there.

  “Shh,” John said.

  They heard the squeak of the door above and the groan of floorboard. The guard.

  DEADLY GAMES Jaycee Clark 190

  He cursed above them and asked a question. Dimitri currently didn’t care. He felt

  the door on the wall, found the handle and wondered if they’d go up in flames if he pulled

  it.

  “Wait.”

  John cut his small flashlight on. Wires ran around the perimeter of the room and

  plastic explosives sat in the center of the table.

  “I’m ready to bloody leave now,” John said.

  They checked the door, didn’t see any rigs.

  Both took a deep breath and he opened the door. Nothing happened.

  They both exhaled, shut the door and hurried up th
e back alley steps.

  The shadows didn’t move, but instead of heading back in the way they’d come,

  they walked across the ally to the other door and pulled it open.

  “We need to hurry,” he told John. Again they moved through a dark abandoned

  building and out a door leading into a different alley way. No lights shone down on them.

  They walked two more streets over, and Petrolov pulled off the wig and wigcap,

  running his fingers through his hair. John jerked off his own blond wig. When they

  reached the canal, they split.

  Ian Kinncaid, traveling on business and enjoying an evening in Amsterdam, heard

  and saw an explosion as he stood waiting on a boat.

  Dimitri Petrolov was dead.

  * * * *

  November 18; 1:04 a.m.: Seneca, Maryland

  Rori yawned and closed the door. She was tired. For the second night in a row,

  Darya had awakened screaming bloody murder, bringing every adult within the house

  running. She leaned back against the door and closed her eyes. She wanted a drink of

  something.

  She hadn’t heard from Ian, didn’t know if things had gone as planned or not. And

  it was driving her bonkers. She’d never been a worrier before and now she fretted. She

  hated to fret and brood.

  His parents asked her if she’d heard from him. His brothers.

  She cracked the door back open to check that Darya was still sleeping. The little

  girl lay on her side, the photo clutched in her hand, the teddy bear under her arm. They

  were starting to worry about her. Since dinner yesterday evening, she hadn’t eaten a

  single bite. Darya gave a new meaning to the word stubborn. She didn’t want to go to

  bed, just sat on the bottom step and stared at the front door. Or she sat in the living room

  near the windows. She was always watching … waiting.…

  Rori didn’t want to be gone long. She strode down the hallway and down the

  stairs. The house was quiet and dark, lit by the low lit lamps sporadically placed. The

  hallway to the kitchen was lit with a nightlight near the floor.

  The smell of cookies still hung in the air. Even Becky couldn’t tempt Darya with a

  pumpkin cookie.

  Roth sat at the kitchen table dunking cookies into a glass of milk. “These are

  really good.”

  She shook her head and walked to the industrial sized refrigerator. The shelves