He runs his fingers through his hair before letting them fall to his side. His fingers look for the sword that he’s taken to carrying in a scabbard. It’s second nature now and he’s long stopped thinking about its power. It’s a weapon. And he’s used it often to defend himself. They’ve taken his gun too and he feels a little naked now without any of his weapons on him.
Then the door opens and he stiffens, steeling himself before rising to greet the new arrivals.
The giant with broad shoulders and tattoos which cover almost every inch of his skin is obviously not Mikhail. So it must be the dark-skinned, pale-eyed guy with dark brown hair next to him. He’s almost as tall as the giant, just leaner. There’s no trace of spare fat on him as if he’s corded in muscle through and through.
And those eyes just fix on Jai and stay there. He comes forward, no trace of emotion on his face.
"The weather’s not too much of a shock to you I hope?" the man asks in a clipped British accent. Polite. Too polite. Almost sarcastic.
Trying not to grimace, Jai puts out a hand. "Mikhail, I assume?" he asks.
The other guy doesn’t shake his proffered hand, pointedly folding his arms across his chest.
"So what’s your proposal?" he asks, pointedly not asking Jai to sit.
So that’s how it’s going to be is it? Jai grimaces. His jaw hardens but his voice is even when he talks. "We want to reinstate ties with your country," he says. "We’ll allow for safe passage for your citizens into Bombay 2, a satellite city being built next to the main city to house the refugees."
If he’s surprised, Mikhail doesn’t show it. Putting down his own cup he leans back, folding his arms. "And what do you want in return?"
"Rare earth metals," Jai says, his voice bland.
"Ah!" Understanding dawns on Mikhail’s face.
Jai nods. "We want access to the metals and at a reasonable price of course."
"So why come to us?" Mikhail asks, his voice polite, clipped. "Go to the government. We are just rebels."
"Are you?" Jai asks. "You guard a mine now fully functional and producing the metals in the north of your country. In New Scotland."
Mikhail’s eyes narrow, Jai notes with grim satisfaction.
"We know you’re mining the metals on behalf of the government," he adds.
"So go to the government and ask them," Mikhail replies with bored disinterest.
"Come, come," Jai chuckles, his voice matching the smoothness of Mikhail’s. "Why go to them when I’m here, meeting you. And you do have the ear of the PM don’t you?"
Mikhail’s jaw hardens. If he’s surprised that Jai knows so much, he doesn’t show it.
He finally says, his voice cautious, "How much do you want?"
"1 per cent of the production. Enough to suit our needs. Small enough to go unnoticed."
Mikhail folds his arms over his chest. He stares at Jai, who forces himself not to react to those silver-green orbs. They burn with a strange intensity as if lit from inside. The rest of Mikhail’s features stay calm.
"I’ll need to check back with my team members," he says, his voice flat.
Jai tilts his head, his face mirroring Mikhail’s lack of emotions. "We need to know right away, I’m afraid. Time is of essence as you may well understand," he says.
Mikhail hesitates. When Jai stares back unrelenting, he nods. Once. "Excuse me," he says, getting up from the table to walk to the window.
With his back to the room, he pulls out his phone. So the leader of the rebel alliance has a mobile phone.
Well, of course, he heads the team mining for rare earth metals; the single most important component needed for electronic communication including mobile phones.
The 2014 tsunamis that'd swept through parts of India, laid waste to China. The earth’s very crust had seemed to move, being manifested as earthquakes in California, Brazil and Australia. The result? Mines around the world shutting down and a growing shortage of metals, especially rare earth metals.
Since then, the use of electronic devices, including the internet and mobile devices of any kind, has been very restricted. Limited to essential services like defense and healthcare in most countries.
Unless of course you're considered important enough by the government of your country to be given one. Or you have the connections to source it from the black market. Which Mikhail obviously does. Besides he has access to all the rare metals he wants, given he’s excavating the precious resources.
Mikhail’s voice is too low-pitched for Jai to make out the words. Instead he turns his attention to the only other person in the room. The wrestler-like tank of a man who's been sitting silent all through. He stays that way. Not a change of expression on his face.
"Who is he talking to?" Jai asks him.
When there’s no reply, Jai grimaces. He turns his attention back to the man by the window.
With reluctance he notices how tall Mikhail is again. He’s at least six feet five inches and well built; his shoulders blocking out the light from the window. Then Mikhail turns back to the room, and without moving from the window, nods.
"Fine, 1 per cent it is," he says. Then he asks, his voice still deceptively polite, "Is that all?"
But Jai’s not fooled. He hears the veiled threat in those words. He reaches for his cup of tea, pleased that his hand is steady.
"Also, I’d like one of your team members to accompany me back," he says, his voice casual.
Mikhail frowns, but before he can speak, Jai holds up his palm, his gesture authoritative.
"After years of our two countries not seeing eye to eye, your words don’t mean much, as you may well understand," he says.
Mikhail nods slowly.
"You mean a hostage?" he finally asks, his voice harsh.
No change of expression but Mikhail’s hand grips the teacup so tight, the skin of his knuckles stretches white.
Jai replies, his voice conciliatory. "It’s just to make sure you don’t change your mind. Surely you understand how that is?"
His voice is soothing and the words come out fast, so smooth that Mikhail’s eyes whip to his face.
"Besides it will help to have a familiar voice be our liaison with the refugees. Who better than someone who’s been a refugee herself? To convince your people that they can trust us, that Bombay 2 is their rightful home."
At that, Mikhail moves so fast he’s almost a blur. Before Jai can react he’s around the table and collaring Jai, hauling him to his feet. But Jai has already pulled out a knife strapped to his ankle. He holds the blade to Mikhail’s throat.
Mikhail’s breathing fast, his chest rising and falling, and on his face, anger and something else. An emotion Jai can’t quite grasp. Behind him the tattooed guy is motionless, his body coiled, ready to jump, his eyes rapt on Jai.
When Mikhail doesn’t show any sign of releasing him, Jai presses the knife with enough force to break his skin.
A trickle of blood rolls down his throat and the tattooed giant behind them shifts. Jai has no doubt that he’s going to take him down at the first available opportunity.
Then Mikhail lets go of Jai’s collar.
In the same instant, the breath whooshes out of Jai, who moves the knife away from the other man’s throat. And the tattooed giant at the entrance moves so fast that before Jai can take a step back, he’s standing between Jai and Mikhail, his massive hands gripping Jai’s neck. Enough for Jai to know he can twist Jai’s neck off right then.
No one speaks and Mikhail still looks livid. Then he says, his voice sharp enough to cut, "Release him, Samoen."
The giant hesitates, stays as is, and this time Mikhail says, his voice calmer, a bitter undertone to it. "We can’t kill him. Not yet."
Jai knows too that the other man doesn’t have a choice. He needs this too much.
Bombay 2 is the only hope for the displaced population of this country. If things didn’t improve in this city then it may even be the only refuge for Mikhail himself in the future.
/>
Turning to the giant, Mikhail barks, "Get Ariana. Now."
27
When I walk in the door, it’s to find Mikhail standing by the table, his arms folded over his chest. The protests at being pulled out of a particularly important training session that morning die in my throat at the look on his face. His pale eyes blaze green, almost silver with hidden emotion. He’s angry but there’s something else on his face. A look I cannot fathom like he’s hurt, but something deeper as if I’ve deceived him. Lied to him.
Is he still sulking that I hadn’t kissed him back the last time?
And then I see the other man.
And forget everything else.
He stands looking out the window, legs slightly apart as if he’s bracing himself for what is to come. His back broad enough to stretch the shirt he’s wearing, the sleeves clinging to his upper arms, outlining the strength of his biceps. He turns around and the breath rushes out of me.
My heart speeds up and the world whirls around me as I take in his features. I grip the back of a chair to steady myself.
Jai doesn’t say anything, just runs his eyes over me. His gaze sears my face, my neck, my breasts, sliding down my legs and then back to my lips where it lingers a second longer.
His skin glistens, burnished dark brown. He’s filled out since I last saw him, his shoulders broader as if he’s been working out. He’s lost weight on his face, and his cheekbones jut out more than I remember. Looks sleeker. Features more drawn than I remember. He looks the same and yet not. I almost don’t recognize him.
Then the breeze blows through the window and brings with it his scent. A familiar, sharp-sweet cinnamon and pine smell, and I know it is him. His essence hasn’t changed. That part which always reached out to me and locked into me and pulled at me. That’s still there.
He is here.
Sensing the click of recognition in me, his eyes swivel to mine and hold. His nostrils flare and those amber eyes catch fire, igniting an answering spark in my belly. And then he clamps down on it, whatever he’s feeling. A shutter falls over his eyes and his features freeze but not before I see his throat move as he swallows.
"Well?" I turn to Mikhail. "Are you going to tell me why I was called?"
It’s Jai who answers. "You’re coming to Bombay with me to help out with the refugee situation." He says with little preamble.
"What the fuck is he talking about?" I ask, and the look on Mikhail’s face says it all.
I swear inwardly and feeling my knees weaken, grip the chair tighter. A feeling of the inevitable closes in on me. I close my eyes, trying to shut out the room and his face. The face I’d wanted to see again but not like this. Not. Like. This.
A touch on my shoulder and I know it’s Mikhail.
I shake his hand off in anger, step away so I’m halfway between the two men and bite out, "So this is why you agreed to my joining your team. So you could barter me with them."
Mikhail's jaw hardens, but doesn’t disagree with me. And I know he’s thought about this that I’ve hit upon the truth without realizing it. And that I’ve lost someone I was just beginning to trust.
In that moment I hate Jai and wish he’d never turned up like this.
No, that’s not true. A part of you is secretly pleased he’s here, that he’s finding a way to get you back.
Before I can decide what to think, Jai cuts in with, "He doesn’t have a choice. And neither do you."
His voice is authoritative enough to make me want to stamp my foot and say a flat "no" and damn the consequences.
He’s moved closer. Close enough for his words to shiver over my skin. Close enough to make that shimmering attraction between us hard to ignore.
And that makes me mad.
Crazy mad.
"How dare you!" I turn on him, meeting his gaze.
When his amber eyes blaze back, I don’t blink. Don’t show how much it’s affecting me to see him again.
I want to lean into the space between us and fling myself at him.
Raising my hand I slap him instead but he doesn’t flinch. He’s not even surprised.
He goes on as if I’m not standing there, so furious that I can barely breathe.
"It’s not personal," he says. "You have to understand this is larger than you and me, it’s about our future, about all our futures," Jai replies, his voice calm.
He’s trying to be soothing and that pisses me off even more.
"It’s not enough that you turned your back on me once, now you want to turn my life upside down, again?" I hiss.
Before Jai can reply Mikhail says, "He’s right, Ariana, only you can do this for us."
Not able to believe my ears, I turn on him. "Surely you don’t believe him too?"
Mikhail goes on, a frown marring his forehead. In his eyes I read confusion. But if this is the one chance to find a more permanent solution for the refugees, a home away from home for our people, he’ll take it. I know that.
"You are the only one who knows both sides," Mikhail pleads. "You’ve lived in the East and the West. You are the bridge, Ariana. Someone our people will trust. Enough to move when Bombay 2 is complete." His voice is coaxing. But, a thread of steel running through his words implies otherwise.
"Bombay 2 will be ready soon enough within weeks of our reaching the city. We can’t delay the move either, for the shifters have grown more menacing over the last few years." Jai’s voice is stripped of all emotion.
He steps back and it’s as if all the heat is sucked back with him. He’s wrapped that essence of him back inside so tight, that I can’t feel him anymore. Cold. He feels cold.
Seemingly unaware of my thoughts, he continues, "We have managed to negotiate a temporary truce with the shifters. Giving us just enough time to move the refugees to a safer place. Right now, they are too vulnerable in the Jungle.
"Bombay 2 is a self-contained satellite town, where we can guard the refugees better."
"A prison," I say, the words coming out sharp, bitter.
"A secure space," he insists, "while we figure out how to rehouse them within the city."
"You expect me to believe that you are finally finding homes for those you’ve turned away all these years."
The way you turned me away.
This time he winces as if he’s heard my unspoken words. "Believe what you want," he says, voice flat.
"We need you, Ariana," says Mikhail, a thread of desperation creeping into his voice. But I don’t want to hear it. Don’t want to weaken in the face of his appeal.
What about me? What I need?
"No, you don’t," I insist. "Get someone else. Get Aki, the refugee leader to do this. He’s senior, has more experience at this. They trust him."
"No," Jai insists, forcing me to once more turn my attention to him. "It needs to be someone trusted by both the refugees and…by the council."
And that brings me up short. I snort in disbelief. "Why would your Council trust me?"
"Because I trust you."
And that effectively shuts me up. It’s the last thing I’d expected him to say.
Jai’s become good at negotiating. At not playing fair.
I’d been hoping to provoke some kind of response from him. Anger? Hurt. But not this.
Trust.
He’s turned the tables on me. Flung that into my face. Making it impossible for me to refuse. Not that there was an option in the first place.
And this time when I look him in the eyes I flinch. The amber flares are gone. Replaced by ebony-colored flints which give no hint of the poet he once was. His face carved in stone. And I know he’s stepped into the persona of the soldier he was meant to always be. One who’s used to overcoming all those who stand in his way.
I miss him all over again.
"Fuck you, Jai," I say, my voice harsh.
Turning, I walk past Mikhail, blanking him, ignoring the hurt look that flashes across his face. I know he doesn’t have a choice. Hell, I might even do the same in his pla
ce, but even that thought doesn’t make it better.
All I know is I’m being pulled back into Vishal’s clutches, back into that nightmare I’d hoped I’d left behind. The one that’s going to turn my life upside down, and there’s nothing I can about it. Not if I want to ensure my sister’s safety.
28
I look up from the deck of the ship where I’ve spent most of the day, half-bent over the side, being sick. Two sea trips down and it still takes me more than forty-eight hours to find my sea legs.
It’s going to take another twenty days to reach Bombay. Just the thought of it makes me feel faint again. Then the deck rolls and I grab my stomach as a wave of sickness washing over me.
Sinking down, I rest my head against the side. Closing my eyes, I wish I were dead already.
I sense rather than see him sink down next to me.
"Don’t come too close," I groan through half-dry lips. "I stink."
"Here," he brings a straw to my lips and I take a few sips of the water, sighing when it drips down my parched throat.
‘This doesn’t mean I forgive you," I half-snarl.
He sighs. "I had no choice but to agree to you coming, Aria. You know that. If I had any other way…" His voice fades and for a few seconds we just sit there. "You know how much a space like Bombay 2 will mean for our people. And they need rare earth metals, which only I can access for them. Don’t you see? I. Didn’t. Have a choice," he bites out, tension radiating off him.
I know he’s doing what it takes to ensure the future of our people.
The sea breeze blows over us, fanning my flushed cheeks. I still don’t open my eyes.
"And it’s why I am here. With you," he says.
"Yeah, you couldn’t trust me to be with him," I say, trying to sound bitter, but already the anger is sliding out of me. Leaving me frustrated.
The truth is I’m glad Mikhail came along, for it means I don’t have to be alone. With Jai.
Because I know how Mikhail feels about me.
And a part of me is using Mikhail to make Jai jealous.
Even as this realization sinks in, Mikhail says, "He wouldn’t have accepted anyone else in your place. And I wasn’t going to let you go alone."
Taken (Many Lives Book 2) Page 12
