"Thomas Vincent," he introduced himself.
"Don't let her sway you, Thomas," Judith warned. "She's Frank Warner's fiancee, so she has a vested interest."
"Did your wife come with you?" Inez asked blatantly fishing.
Blythe and Judith laughed aloud, clearly used to Inez interrogating people and taking no offense. Thomas wouldn't either. He was a charming man. He widened his smile to a boyish grin and shook his head.
"No wife, ma'am. It's just me."
Inez's eyes immediately lit up. "Oh, how nice. This is the perfect place to raise a family."
"He'd need a wife for that, Inez," Blythe pointed out.
Inez smirked. "Exactly. I believe neither of you is married."
"That's it." Blythe took the wineglass from her hand. "You're cut off. Thomas, please ignore her. Her tongue is out of control tonight."
Inez looked unrepentant. "No more so than every night. How else are we going to entice this handsome man to give our little community a chance?"
"She should be the one showing you the books," Judith said.
"I wouldn't mind hearing what she's offering." Stefan entered into the game. "Do either of these two come with the gallery? I could use a wife and children and so far, I've failed miserably in that department."
"I might be able to arrange it," Inez agreed. Her voice turned mock innocent. "Judith, would you care for a glass of wine or two?"
Judith laughed. "You're incorrigible, Inez. On that note, I'm going home."
She caught Stefan's arm and tugged. He saw the movement, knew she was going to reach for him and could have avoided her touch as he normally would do, but he let her fingers settle over his wrist. It felt a little as if she'd trapped his heart in her hand.
"I'll be taking him to safety as well, so get moving onto your next stop and quit trying to sell Frank's gallery using foul means," Judith teased.
Stefan's mouth went dry at her touch. He took her fingers and tucked them into the crook of his arm, pretending he was Thomas, when it was Stefan drawing her close beneath his shoulder, indulging his terrible need to be with this woman. The fire between them refused to go out, no matter how hard either of them pretended it wasn't burning hot and bright.
Worse, there was a chance that if it was simple physical attraction, they could have a fiery affair and be done with it, but somehow, the attraction went deeper, bone deep. Even that wasn't a good enough explanation for what seemed to be happening. As he walked with her, he realized it was that her spirit moved against his--maybe even absorbed his. However it had happened, this woman was forever written on his body, claiming him.
She turned her head and her gaze collided with his. A vise squeezed his heart hard at that look of longing he saw in her eyes. He wasn't alone feeling the strength and intensity of the pull.
"It's because we both have gifts," Judith whispered. "I've heard that can happen. The gifts complement each other or something."
She was courageous, he had to hand her that. There was no pretense. Judith might not show herself to the world, but she was honest with him when it mattered and he admired that. She could have remained silent.
He did the worst possible thing. He tied up his other hand by sliding it over the top of hers. He couldn't resist feeling her soft skin, couldn't resist the connection. For the first time in his life he wanted someone of his own to hold on to. Someone to see him. Someone to make him real and not the insubstantial shadow he knew he was. Not someone--Judith.
"You make it hard to breathe," she admitted, turning her head away from him to look at the ocean crashing along the cliffs.
"I thought you were doing that to me," Stefan said and moved his body more protectively in place to keep Ivanov from seeing her face too clearly if the scope was trained on her. That, too, was strictly the truth, not Thomas, but Stefan, his lungs burning for air.
Touching her was a miracle. Her skin seemed to melt into his. Ivanov would read nothing more into his gestures than a cementing of his cover, but Stefan didn't want the exterminator to get a good visual of her face. For the first time in his life, he felt genuinely protective of a woman.
"Has this ever happened to you before?" Stefan asked. Everything inside him stilled, waited for the answer. He knew Jean-Claude. He'd spent a couple of months locked up with that man and knew his obsession with Judith. He didn't want her to have responded to the man with the driving intensity he felt between them.
She shook her head. "Never. I don't have relationships. Once. But not like this. I was very young and . . . stupid. This is too fast, too encompassing and I don't trust it. You shouldn't either. We're going to be adults about this." Her eyes met his again. "Right?"
If Ivanov hadn't been watching them, he would have taken matters into his own hands and Thomas Vincent and his cover could be damned. She would have been up against the side of the nearest building, away from prying eyes, his mouth taking hers, his body hard and hot and unashamed with true desire. The real damn thing. Was that adult enough for her?
She inhaled sharply at the flare of heat in his eyes. He knew she could see that smoldering fire he couldn't hide from her.
"Right?" she whispered again.
He wanted to reassure her, but she'd been courageous enough to be honest with him and he could do no less. "I'll try for you, Judith, but in all honesty, I've never had this feeling for any woman."
She might believe it of Thomas, but not of Stefan. There was no Stefan. He wasn't real, that man who seduced women out of their secrets and left their lives in ruins. No matter that the women were spies, or working for criminals, there was nothing easier for him, and yet now, he had no idea what to do with her.
He wanted to run away with her and never look back at his past, shed the assassin and become her hero, the man who would fill her nights and days with nothing but happiness. Who the hell was he kidding? He didn't know what happiness was until he'd walked down a dark street with a woman who was virtually a stranger.
"I can be that man," he said aloud. The words slipped out before he could stop them.
For a moment her eyes went liquid. "I know you can," she whispered. "But I can't be that woman, Thomas. I want to be, but I can't."
He heard the regret, the pain, in her soft murmur and his heart did a hard somersault. She was killing him as surely as Ivanov's bullet would. Thomas. He detested Thomas. His biggest rival. The man would destroy any chance at all he had with the one woman who counted in his world.
"We'll see," he said, uncaring that she heard him. It was a warning and he meant it.
Walking along the wooden sidewalk with the wind blowing a fine mist across his face, and Judith's hand tucked into the crook of his arm, he had the strangest feeling of peace. He allowed himself to indulge in fantasy for that last few feet before reaching her car.
"This is mine," she announced, putting her hand on the hood of her Mini Cooper. She sounded as regretful as he felt.
Stefan stepped in front of her, effectively preventing her from walking around to the driver's side. "I'm coming out to your farm tomorrow to drive the tractor and I'm bringing lunch."
She took a breath and pushed at the hair blowing over her shoulder into her face. "You know that could get us into trouble, don't you?"
He nodded slowly. "I'll keep you safe."
She took a breath and nodded. "All right then. I'm counting on you."
His first step toward being that man and he already knew he was going to blow it. If the street hadn't been filled with her friends and Ivanov hadn't been lying in wait up in a tower, he would be kissing her senseless.
Stefan forced himself out of her way, almost afraid to let her go, fearing she would slip away. Truthfully, he was even more afraid of himself--that the shadow man would come to his senses and simply disappear into thin air, leaving only Thomas behind.
He went with Judith into the street, and opened the car door for her. She stood for a moment just looking at him and he realized she was every bit as afraid for thei
r moment to end as he was.
"Thank you for a strange but rather wonderful evening, Thomas," Judith said and slipped into the car.
"You're very welcome," he said as he closed her door and patted it before giving her a friendly wave and walking back to the wooden sidewalk, taking danger with him.
5
STEFAN stood on the edge of the sidewalk watching until Judith's car was safely down the street, lights disappearing as she rounded a corner before he turned back toward the gallery. He let his gaze sweep the rooftops without lifting his head. In the darkness, it would be impossible to spot Petr Ivanov. The exterminator didn't make mistakes. He also wasn't much of a long distant assassin. He liked up-close work, rather than a rifle.
Keeping his steps unhurried and measured, shoulders straight, Stefan strolled down the main street, checking out the various storefronts of the shops he passed, as if he were simply acquiring knowledge of Sea Haven's community. The ocean rolled and sprayed across from him, the windows of the stores reflecting the shimmering moon as it emerged from behind a veil of clouds. His years of experience gave him the discipline needed to take his time, to maintain an even pace.
If Stefan didn't believe his brother was dead, then neither did Petr. Ivanov had written the report on Lev's death in an effort to make everyone believe the hunt for Lev was over. The exterminator had lost the trail here in Sea Haven. Stefan was certain now he was nothing more than bait for the assassin to finish the job.
The water tower was a little over three stories high, which gave Ivanov a good view of the street, the stores and rooftops on two streets. The double row of stores, one facing the main street and ocean and the other facing the next street over, was nearly all in plain view of anyone lying up on the floor of the water tower with a sniper's rifle. There were only a few places hidden from his sight and Stefan's body itched to get to one of them quickly, but he forced himself to keep to his casual saunter. He strolled, carefully studying each building as Ivanov would expect him to do.
Between the water tower, where Judith had parked her car and Stefan's ultimate goal, there were three stores and his gallery. His. That brought him up short. He had to be solidly in character to think that. He pushed the stray thought aside and continued with his hunt.
The one smaller building, a wine shop, had a flat roof, but the others were sloped, or steeply pitched, as were most of the buildings on the main street. They were close together, providing another route through the town. Deliberately he slowed his steps, not wanting to reach his goal until the small crowd of people had completely enclosed themselves in the wine shop. Music and laughter poured into the street, the people unknowing of the two dangerous men hunting each other on their quiet streets.
The narrow alley leading back to the second row of shops was just past the gallery, just ahead. Once inside that space the gallery would shield him from view and Ivanov would have to shift position to keep him in sight. The mouse would become the hunter of the cat. Stefan just needed a couple more minutes--a few more steps.
He let out his breath slowly, evenly. No hurrying. Just strolling through town, getting acquainted with the layout. Three more unhurried steps and he turned into the small courtyard beside the gallery, leading to the shops behind the main street, the one blindside the assassin had. He sprinted behind the gallery, knowing Ivanov wouldn't panic for a few minutes, assuming he was exploring and would reappear soon. The back porches were small and stone steps led through gardens of flowers and green plants.
Immediately he sprinted through the brush and flowers, racing around the gallery between the two rows of buildings, staying in the shelter of the back porches' overhang, coming up behind the corner structure. The tower was in his sight now and he crouched low, going completely motionless--waiting with all the patience of a great jungle cat.
Thomas Vincent was gone, and in his place, Stefan Prakenskii became what he was: a hunter. And he was hunting, totally in his element. He completely shed his brilliant-but-bashful businessman persona and moved quickly to turn the tables on the assassin. He felt his lungs expand and something stealthy and feral unwound in the coil of knots in his belly.
The minutes ticked by, one slow second at a time. The sky darkened again as the clouds moved swiftly, obliterating the light from the moon. Even with the expanse of ocean surface, the darkness went from gray to inky. The wind built to a howl and then subsided, gusting off the sea in a fit of temper.
Stefan's gaze continually swept the rooftops, looking for all the places a sniper could hide with a full view of the main street of town, but always came back to the tower. There were several water towers in town, many had been converted to be used for other purposes, but the one on the main street gave the best view of the streets and buildings. There were only a few blind spots and Stefan crouched in one of them. He was absolutely positive that Ivanov was in that tower.
Minutes ticked by. This was definitely a waiting game and few were better at it than Stefan. His breath slowed, his heart, his body calm and coiled, just waiting. Killing Ivanov could cause a few problems down the road, but it would keep Lev safe, and possibly Ilya--at least until the brothers had time to regroup and get the message out to the others to expect a possible purge. Banded together, the Prakenskii brothers would make a terrifying enemy and anyone coming after them would know it.
The sky grew darker still as another gust of wind scattered roiling black clouds over the few remaining stars. Something moved against that dark sky. A figure slid down the ladder from the top of the tower to the second story, a rapid descent, and stepped quickly into the shadow of the circular tank where Stefan lost sight of him for just a moment. In that split second, Stefan realized Ivanov's instincts had kicked in and he knew the tables had turned--that Stefan was aware of his presence and was now hunting him.
At once he was up, leaping onto the fence surrounding the back of the building and running along it, careful to keep from tripping on the posts sticking up. The two-by-four was a slim runway in the dark. The wind sent another ferocious gust, dropping swirling leaves from the trees over his head and shoulders and he jumped to the slanted roof of the building connected to the fence. The structure was large with multileveled roofs. He landed on the lower one and nearly slipped on the slick buildup of green moss from the constant fog and mist coming off the ocean. Evidently the sun failed to reach this section of roof, making footing difficult.
On the roof above him, Stefan heard the quick running of footsteps. The pitch on the higher roof was steeper, but Ivanov crossed it like a cat, with great long strides, well ahead of him, already leaping to the roof of the long, narrow, two-story gift shop. Stefan caught a glimpse of the assassin as he streaked over that surface.
Stefan raced across the moss-covered roof and launched himself onto the next building. The roof had a good pitch, and he couldn't follow Ivanov's exact line from the angle he'd started and gain ground, so he was forced to run along the more sloped edge, requiring balance, although if his quarry thought that would slow him down, he was wrong. He streaked across the lower end of the roof in pursuit of Ivanov and launched himself over the small alleyway where the homeless man had wrapped himself in a blanket in preparation for a cold night.
Stefan landed lightly onto the roof of the wine shop, trying to be as silent as a cat, although he doubted if, with the noise emanating from the shop from the small crowd, anyone would hear the chase. The last thing he wanted were witnesses such as Old Bill. Thomas Vincent would not be chasing killers over rooftops. He took four running steps and felt fire slicing along his cheek while an angry bee buzzed in his ear. He dropped flat and rolled toward the edge of the roof, grateful Ivanov's expertise was not in long-distance killing--or shooting on the run. The assassin could shoot, but he wasn't known for his skill on the run while all the Prakenskii brothers had that gift.
Stefan slipped over the edge as the second shot kicked up a tile next to his shoulder. Fragments rained down on his face. Holding the weight of his body by
his fingertips, he counted to ten and pulled himself back up. Ivanov would fear he would drop to the ground and follow his escape route from there. Clearly the exterminator had prepared for every possible scenario. They'd all been taught to do that so many years ago, back in the schools they'd attended, the ones shaping them into monsters.
Stefan would have to be careful. Ivanov had made this run before, setting up his escape over the rooftops. He had probably practiced this exact route in the dead of night repeatedly--and he was armed with a silencer, which wasn't unexpected. But the shots were. Ivanov wanted to get away, not draw more attention to himself. He wouldn't want to give up on the idea of killing Lev, if that was why he'd come. Ivanov was nothing if not tenacious.
The wine shop was a compact square and it was filled to capacity even with such a small group, the sounds bursting through windows and doors. It was difficult to hear the whisper of steps running over the roof with the noise coming from the crowded building. With great stealth, Stefan pulled himself up so that just his eyes were looking out over the roof. Ivanov appeared to have abandoned the rooftop, but just to be on the safe side, Stefan remained cautious as he pulled himself up. When no shot came, he was up and running, keeping low as he did so, building momentum to jump to the next rooftop.
Stefan raced up the side of the art gallery roof, angling to cover as much ground as possible and yet position himself directly behind Ivanov, fighting the wind every step of the way. The exterminator had already managed to make it down the other side and was making the leap to a smaller gallery that sold hand carved furniture. The building was single story with a normal roof, but it was set well back from the street. That gave Stefan the chance to make up a little time as he was already on the lower side of the roof and he gained a few steps, leaping onto that roof as Ivanov jumped to the next long building, a woodworking gallery.
Rather than run straight, Ivanov angled back toward the street again, toward the front of the building, and then disappeared down the other side of the roof. That action warned Stefan that the killer had a plan. He didn't slow his pace, but heightened his awareness as he ran, puzzling over the route, trying to get ahead of the assassin in his mind to figure out what he had in store.
Spirit Bound Page 9
