by Mari Carr
David said something to her in rapid Portuguese. She nodded, her eyes scanning the crowd.
“English,” Nyx demanded. “Leila doesn’t speak Portuguese.”
How many languages did Nyx speak?
Who had been in the car that blew up?
Leila’s fingers twitched. There were too many people and she couldn’t see. She needed to get up high. She needed line of sight and something steady to rest her gun on.
“We’re waiting for a Vadik, one of the harcos. He’s coming to us and will get us out of here.”
The harcos were the knights for the territory of Hungary.
“In a car?” Nyx pushed away from the wall. “If there are cars blowing up I’d rather walk.”
It was the last thing Nyx said before someone in the crowd of people rushing away from the blast knocked her shoulder. She hit the corner of the alcove, jerked by the undoubtedly painful hit, which put her in the path of another panicked pedestrian. David lunged to grab her, but she was swallowed by the crowd and then knocked off her feet.
Leila rushed after her, but Penny jammed a hand against Leila’s shoulder, knocking her back.
“Stay here,” Penny commanded.
There was so much noise and panic. It was like smoking, filling Leila’s lungs with each breath she took.
She wanted to run and find Antonio, to make sure he was safe.
Wait. Safe?
Had Karl been at the safe house? David said the safe house had blown up.
Karl.
“The safe house,” she demanded. “Who was in it? Who was in the car?”
When Penny ignored her, Leila grabbed the woman’s shoulder, shaking her. “Who died?” It wasn’t until the words were out that Leila realized she was screaming.
“I don’t know,” Penny said softly. “I don’t know.”
“Go help them.” Leila pointed to the plume of smoke in the sky. “I’ll find Nyx. I’ll stay with David.”
“I can’t leave you—wait, here comes Vadik.” The harco—knight—from Hungary was shouldering his way through the crowd, his bulk making it easier than it would have been for Leila.
Penny raised her sword in the air and waved it, getting Vadik’s attention. The man started toward them. In the other direction Leila thought she saw Nyx’s pale hair.
Someone running by was sobbing. She was speaking English, which wasn’t entirely uncommon. As she passed by the alcove where Leila stood, safe and protected by a knight, she heard the woman’s words.
“They’re dead. They’re dead.”
Antonio.
Karl.
Leila’s body physically reacted to the stabbing emotional pain that went through her. She closed her eyes and jammed the heels of her hands against her forehead.
They weren’t dead. They couldn’t be dead.
Thinking about Antonio and Karl when there was nothing she could do to help them would only make her panic worse.
Put that away. Focus.
Leila stopped, took a breath, and found the battle calm she could summon when she was sniping. She was acting like a civilian. She wasn’t. She was a security officer of Kalmar.
She opened her eyes and glanced at where she’d last seen Nyx.
Nyx had gotten to her hands and knees. Leila couldn’t see David, but her view was obstructed. A man stumbled into her, his leg hitting her in the side and knocking her over once more. Where was David?
Nyx was going to get trampled.
Leila stepped forward, until she was practically pressed against Penny’s back, and shouted. “Nyx! Get up! Put your feet down.” It was what Karl had done for her.
Penny leaned back. Leila assumed the other woman was trying to physically force her deeper into the alcove, where there was better protection.
But Penny didn’t stop. Her body tipped backwards, pinning Leila to the wall before sliding down. She hit the ground, crumpled on top of Leila’s feet.
There was a small hole in her temple.
Leila’s breath caught.
Dead. Penny was dead.
The man who’d knocked Nyx over at least had reached down and hauled Nyx to her feet. Nyx stood, clearly moving under her own power. Leila took a shallow breath.
Assess.
Penny was dead—shot with a small caliber bullet at close range. Even with the noise and chaos she would have heard a gunshot, unless they used a suppressor.
Nyx was alive, but unprotected. There was no sign of David. Victor, who’d been headed toward them only moments before, was also missing.
The first priority was getting Nyx out of the crowd. Then…stay at their last known position or run? There were risks to both options.
Nyx looked over her shoulder, spotted Leila, and started to take a step toward her.
The man who’d helped her up didn’t let go.
He wrapped an arm around Nyx and started hauling her down the sidewalk. He was helping, getting her out of the way.
But all the hairs on Leila’s arms and neck were standing on end.
There was something about the way the man moved.
Leila stepped over Penny’s body, got knocked, briefly lost sight of Nyx. She shoved her way toward a bus bench and stood on it.
The man was hauling Nyx into a narrow alley between two buildings.
Just before they disappeared into the darkness, he looked over his shoulder, scanning the crowd.
When he caught sight of Leila, Ciril smiled.
Grigoris raced over to him. “We need to secure this area.”
“Where is Leila?”
Grigoris frowned. “I don’t know.”
Antonio grabbed Grigoris’s walkie-talkie from him. “Who has Leila?” he yelled into it.
The answer came back almost instantly, and he recognized the voice of one of the Ottoman guards assigned to watch over Leila. “She is with Dr. Kata.”
Antonio frowned. “And who is with them?”
He didn’t need to hear the response. His sixth sense kicked in. Leila was in danger. These bombs were meant as diversions. Diversions that came with a body count.
Antonio took off toward Leila’s last known destination, shoving people out of his way.
When the guard finally replied through the walkie-talkie, Antonio barely heard the answer.
“Penny and David on close cover, Vadik and Jac backup.”
Antonio ran faster.
Leila leapt off the bench and shoved through the now thinner crowd of panicked pedestrians.
Run away. No one will know. You don’t have to face him.
She was afraid, and that little voice inside wanted, desperately, for her to turn away from what was about to happen.
But Ciril had Nyx, and Leila wouldn’t let him take her, hurt her.
Still, she hesitated—for only a fraction of a second before she plunged into the alley. The first few feet were lit by a lamp at the corner of the building. Then the alley narrowed to only a few feet wide, thanks to a large trash-bin enclosure. Beyond that, there was no light.
She was so very, very afraid.
But she wasn’t helpless, not this time. She stooped, pulled her gun, and then stepped into the darkness. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but the narrow alley was actually quite clean once she was past the dumpster enclosure.
The only other occupants were Nyx and Ciril.
The far end was blocked by a tall white van, which had been pulled up so close to the walls of the buildings that a person wouldn’t have been able to fit through the space. Someone just glancing down the alley might not realize that there was space to slide past the dumpsters.
Ciril had one hand over Nyx’s mouth. The other held a knife against her stomach. Nyx’s hands were wrapped around his wrist in a white-knuckled grip. He was whispering in her ear, and whatever he was saying, Nyx looked…she looked terrified.
Ciril looked up and smiled. “Ah yes. Hello, friend. I’ve missed you.”
Leila took a breath. She couldn’t think about how
scared Nyx looked. She needed to stop, focus. She could smell stale urine, old garbage, and the faint scent of wet concrete. She raised her gun, sighted. With Nyx’s body in the way, her only clear shot was Ciril’s head.
She couldn’t shoot him. They needed him, to figure out who the mastermind was.
And a head shot was a quick death. He didn’t deserve a quick death.
“You will come with me, and I will let her go.” Ciril was still smiling.
Nyx shook her head, eyes wide. Ciril moved the hand holding the knife, and Nyx screamed.
He wasn’t holding the knife against Nyx’s stomach. It was in her stomach.
And he was twisting it.
“Stop,” Leila said. “Release her, and I won’t shoot.”
“You won’t shoot me, my friend.”
“Oh, I will. And I don’t miss. Let her go.”
“I’m not done with her. There are more things I need to do before I take you.” Ciril yanked the knife out of Nyx’s abdomen. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and Nyx went limp.
Ciril adjusted his grip to Nyx’s neck, holding her up with a hand under her jaw. Leila’s whole body flushed cold, and she could feel the chain around her own neck. Feel the pain and pressure against her jawbone and trachea as she struggled to find her feet, to keep herself alive.
She forced the memory away, taking another deep breath and letting the smells of the alley cement her in the here and now. Penny was dead but maybe, maybe, David and Vadik and whatever other knights had been trailing them were getting in position to take down Ciril.
“She’s too pretty. A witch.” Ciril raised the bloody knife to Nyx’s face.
“Drop the knife,” Leila shouted. She had the shot. She could kill him.
They needed him alive.
Ciril’s arm jerked. The knife opened a long, deep cut on Nyx’s face, from her forehead to jaw, crossing her eye socket. For a second Leila was able to see the white of bone before blood started to pour from the wound.
The pain brought Nyx upright. Her scream was strangled by Ciril’s hand around her neck. She reached for her face.
“Maybe I’ll take her too. She’s not part of the plan, but I can play with her.” Ciril looked at Leila and brought the knife back to Nyx’s abdomen. “I’ll make you watch as I practice on her.”
Ciril would take them both. The van was right there. Assuming Nyx didn’t die from the gut wound, or bleed to death from the cut on her face, she would be tortured, the same way Leila had been. Maybe Antonio would find them, save them before Nyx died, before Leila broke under the torture.
Maybe they’d survive.
Leila took a breath, released it, sighted.
And pulled the trigger.
A neat round hole appeared in Ciril’s forehead, just above his right eye. His smile disappeared, the knife clattered to the ground. Then Ciril and Nyx crumbled together.
Leila ran for her friend.
Antonio could hear the thudding footsteps behind him, knew Grigoris, maybe another guard, were following him. He didn’t have time to stop, to acknowledge them. He had to find Leila.
He’d seen the GPS in the SUV, knew her last known location was somewhere around here. He glanced around, yelling her name.
If Ciril had taken her, if he’d gotten to her…
Passing an alleyway, he saw movement, then he heard a gunshot.
He and Grigoris were side by side by the time they entered the alley.
Antonio struggled to take in what he was seeing.
Leila was kneeling next to a body…Nyx.
Another body—Ciril—lay lifeless only a few feet away.
Opposite where they’d entered, someone scrambled onto the roof of the van that was blocking the end of the alley. Vadik dropped down into the alley, wincing. His shirt was coated in blood.
Antonio took all that in with a glance, cataloguing it, but not reacting. Leila. She was all that mattered.
Antonio raced toward her, dropping to his knees beside her.
“Leila!”
She didn’t look up, her attention solely focused on Nyx.
“Nyx?” Grigoris dropped to his knees, across the woman’s body from where Leila and Antonio knelt. “No. No.”
“Ambulance!” Antonio snapped.
Grigoris put a hand to his ear and barked out orders. His words and tone were calm and controlled, totally at odds with the look on his face—shock, disbelief.
“Take over,” Antonio demanded. He needed to hold Leila. She had her hands pressed over the wound on Nyx’s lower right abdomen. She was splattered with blood, her hands red to the wrists. He needed to make sure none of that was hers.
Grigoris leaned forward, seeming to snap out of whatever horrified shock had momentarily gripped him.
“Switch,” he commanded.
Leila raised her hands and Grigoris slammed them down on the blood-soaked pad of fabric. He said something about their location—he must have left the channel on his com set open, then added, “Ciril is dead, but proceed with extreme caution. Check all vehicles.”
“I had to kill him,” Leila said.
Grigoris’s throat worked as he looked at Nyx. Her face and hair were both red with blood. “I should have protected you.”
Leila looked at Antonio. “I had to kill him.”
Antonio reached for her as he looked at Nyx. “I know you did.”
“He was killing her.”
“Jesus!”
Antonio looked up, saw Karl staring down at them, white-faced. “Is Nyx—”
“No!” Grigoris yelled, though he never looked at any of them, his eyes locked on Nyx’s face.
The sound of a siren pierced the air.
Vadik was leaning against the wall and speaking into his phone. He cursed—the word needing no translation, then said, “David and Penny are dead. Jac is missing.”
“Grigoris,” Leila said, waiting until he looked at her.
When he did, his face was hard, as if chiseled from stone.
“The ambulance is here.”
Antonio wasn’t sure he understood exactly what was being said between Leila and Grigoris, but when the leader of the task force nodded, his gaze softening, it was clear some understanding had passed between the two of them.
“I will go with her,” Grigoris said, his voice strong, steady, in control.
“I think you should,” Leila whispered.
It was strange that here…now…it felt as if Leila was giving the orders.
Antonio helped Leila rise, pulling her away from Nyx as the rescue workers took her place.
Grigoris never moved from Nyx’s side, making the medical technicians work around him. When they lifted her to the gurney, Grigoris was there, walking next to her as they loaded her in the ambulance. Then he stepped into the vehicle, sitting next to the rescue worker.
“I killed him,” Leila whispered, looking back as Ciril’s body lay beneath a sheet, police officers cordoning off the street.
Karl wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her close as Antonio went to talk to the officer in charge.
Within moments, they were granted permission to leave.
“The safe house is gone,” Karl said, as they stood on the sidewalk. “We don’t have clothes again.”
Leila giggled, the response clearly driven by something other than humor. The shock of everything that had just happened appeared to be wearing off. Or it had driven her around the bend. “I’m not going to miss that damn cheap vest.”
“I’m more concerned about the fact we don’t have a bed.” Antonio had his cell out, about to see if he could still check into the original hotel where he’d made reservations, when Sarah pulled up to the curb, rolling down the passenger’s window to talk to them from the driver’s seat.
“Get in. Lodging has been secured for you for tonight.”
Leila and Karl wasted no time climbing into the middle seat of the SUV, so Antonio took the passenger’s seat. “Lodging?”
“Grigor
is made some calls,” Sarah responded.
Despite his concern for Nyx, it appeared Grigoris was still managing to do damage control. The cop allowing Leila to leave without questioning, the ride, the place to stay.
Antonio was impressed by the man’s ability to lead and organize while clearly shaken up over Nyx.
Then he glanced over his shoulder, saw Leila’s head resting on Karl’s shoulder, the two of them looking exhausted, dirty, bloody.
Never again, he vowed.
Never again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Antonio closed the door behind them roughly as they entered the suite, then he reached for Leila’s arm, pushing her against the wall and crushing her lips with his. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she returned his brutal kiss, nipping at his lower lip until he opened his mouth, their tongues tangling.
Servants had greeted them upon their arrival, and they’d taken a few moments to wash up before being directed upstairs to their room.
He had no idea where Karl had drifted to, but Antonio was running on pure adrenaline at the moment.
I almost lost her.
He pushed his body tighter against hers as he ripped her blouse open. He didn’t have time to waste on buttons.
Leila didn’t complain about the loss of the shirt—her last shirt. Instead, she reacted as if he’d fired a starting pistol, her hands dropping to his pants, unfastening them.
He divested her of her bra, gripping her breasts at the exact same moment she freed his cock, dragging her closed fist along the hard flesh.
“Need you,” he said against the soft skin of her cheek, his lips sliding downward, along her jaw to her neck.
Antonio slid her pants and panties off in one fell swoop, giving her all of a second to kick off the material and her shoes before bending to lift her legs. The wall at her back held her upright as the crooks of her knees rested on his forearms.
Leila used her grip on his cock to guide him to her pussy. She was as hot and needy as he was. She was slick with arousal, and he slammed to the hilt in one rough thrust.
