“Father … I cannot lie to you. I did not expect her to come here; I know very little about her. She did not come with Viktor. I am sure she knows nothing of us.”
“But you knew she was my granddaughter. You knew she was the last of the Aleksandrovs.”
“While I have no proof that she is of our line, I suspected that.”
“You have no proof? One look at her face will tell you so!”
“She is an Out-Worlder, Father. She will not understand. Her presence here puts us in danger.”
“You will not harm her, Roman. You will not disappoint me again.” Lev’s voice was cold and forbidding.
He had crossed the line.
“No, Father.”
“Leave me now.”
Thus dismissed, Roman hurried from the study and rushed along the corridors to his private suite.
Stegnora was there, waiting for him.
As he came into the room, she rose, took two steps toward him, then stopped herself. They had been together for nearly thirty years, and she still moved instinctively to touch him whenever he entered the room. This time, however, despite her hesitation, Roman needed her.
When he started toward her, she dropped her self-control and wrapped her arms around him. Aside from being beautiful, and the one woman to whom Roman always returned, Nora was a brilliant engineer. She was his partner; his support; his world.
“What is it?” she asked. Her eyes carried worry for him, and for them.
“Marina. She is here.”
“Marina? Here? George and Bran … but I thought—”
Roman pulled away. “They are not with her. She is with a man, an agent of sorts — perhaps the CIA, perhaps the FBI, perhaps her lover. I will find out.” He stalked across the room, feeling Nora’s concerned gaze upon him; but she would not move to touch him again until he signaled he wanted her. She had learned that too.
Roman passed a hand over his scalp, back over the base of his skull, and massaged the back of his neck. The tension there had tightened across his shoulders, pulling them taut and leaving a pounding between his scapulas. “They found us somehow, and now everything is in jeopardy. I expect Varden back any day, any moment now. As soon as he returns, make sure I speak to him. We’re going to have to move more quickly — shift the Phase Two date to Friday.”
“Three days from now?” Nora caught herself as Roman turned to look at her. He watched her face as she calculated silently, waiting for her confirmation.
He didn’t care if it was possible; she’d find a way to do it. He could always count on her not wanting to disappoint him.
“But we’ll need to — Roman, the explosives aren’t completely ready. We only have two of them. And the detonators—”
“You’ll have to get them done, Nora. We have to. This is our time; our chance. I know you can manage it. You’ve never failed me before.” He moved across the room and took her hand to draw her to her feet. Pulling her close, he rested his cheek on the top of her head and inhaled her scent. Comfort, steadiness, sexuality ….all rolled into one piece.
One thing he was sure of, would always be sure of, was Nora. She loved him.
Roman shoved her toward the table and she fell forward onto its smooth glass with a loud slap of her hands. Bent at the waist, she steadied herself with her palms on the surface, elbows bent at her hips, feet flat on the floor as he came up behind her and shoved himself inside.
A sigh of relief escaped them both; a groan of contentment that dissolved into pants and gasps and the slap of flesh against flesh.
Roman allowed her to finish before he did, but just barely. He was not in an overly generous mood. A squeak of pain told him the edge of the table had cut into her thighs, but that was but a vague recognition in the midst of his mindlessness. He slumped over her from behind, covering her, trapping her, breathing heavily, and feeling as though he’d emptied himself of more than just his seed.
Nora would take whatever he gave her and make it work.
That was what she did.
Gabe swam to consciousness.
He didn’t want to; but a gush of cold liquid and a brilliant white light forced him into reality. It took him longer than it should have to remember where he was and what had happened.
Where was Marina?
He didn’t waste energy completing the thought; he had to focus on his environment.
A tall, bald man stood in front of him; the one who’d interrupted their interaction with the old man. There was no one else in the room; but the man didn’t appear to be concerned about facing Gabe on his own. They were about the same height; but Gabe, younger, he guessed vaguely, by at least two decades, had more bulk than the other.
Still, the added strength wouldn’t help him, as his wrists and ankles had been immobilized.
The man looked familiar.
“So glad you have awakened,” he said to him, forcing Gabe to sit up on the long, flat surface he’d been sprawled upon. “I am Roman. I’ll be your … host.”
“Why am I restrained?”
“A better question is … why are you here? How did you get here and who sent you?”
Gabe knew that his current discomfort was just beginning. He willed himself to calm, to grow cold ….to turn off his neurons and go blank and numb.
“Ah. I see that you understand me.” Roman smiled and he looked, for a moment, rather handsome, benign. Almost kind.
Then the pain struck, suddenly, from nowhere. Gabe snatched in his breath and closed his eyes against the lightning pain. It shot down his left arm, culminating somehow in the curl of his palm.
It stopped.
“Perhaps if I am a bit more persuasive you’ll be more forthcoming.”
Not bloody likely.
“Where am I?” Gabe forced his mouth to move and the words to come out clearly and smoothly.
The man moved, and the pain zinged suddenly — this time from beneath his left ear. Roman moved back and watched as Gabe pulled in a deep breath of relief. “Who sent you?”
“No one.” He drew in a wavering gulp of air, dragged it in and felt the oxygen flow through him. Soothing. He relaxed his fingers from where they dug into his palms. “We found a cave and walked in. There was a vehicle. We got in and came here.”
That was the truth, for the most part; but Gabe wasn’t confident Roman would buy it.
Indeed, when he pressed his handsome face near his, Gabe felt the disdain emanating from him like a palpable wave. “Why did she bring you?”
Unexpected and absurd. Gabe jerked, and then spasmed again, harder, as the pain shocked him at the base of his neck. He couldn’t suppress a cry of pain, but stifled it as quickly as he could find the ability to take a breath.
Focus. Focus.
The room swam before him and still the pain beaded through him in little shockwaves.
“Accident.” Gabe heard a voice groan, pitifully. It was his own.
The pain stopped. “We’ll see if that’s true. The rest of your tale leaves much to be desired.”
Gasping for air, reeling it in, he blinked rapidly as a drip of perspiration trickled onto his eyelid. “What do you want.” He couldn’t make it a question; it was all he could do to get the words out; to make his mouth and tongue move.
Good God.
What would they do to Marina? She was a civilian. She wasn’t prepared for anything like this.
Focus. Draw in a breath. Let it out. Draw it in. Let it out.
“I want ….” Roman stood upright, suddenly, away from Gabe. Something long, thin, and silver flashed in his hand. “I want revenge. I want … to be heard. I want … to be accepted.” An odd, quicksilver grin slashed across his angular face. “Very simple. Not so much to ask.”