Stefan looked around the room. The space was feline cream, serene and calm, with splashes of silken color that would always be Judith, that bright well of deep joy and compassion. She might try to feed the passion of her anger and need for revenge, but her true nature would always rise to the surface, her empathy for others always there, forcing her to see their side. The artist in her ran too deep.
With a sigh, he pulled on his clothes and weapons. He was a little late meeting his brother, and it was becoming difficult to deceive Judith. He didn't like it at all. If they were going to be together, and he wasn't going to have it any other way, then there had to be honesty between them. His first reaction was always her protection and the less she knew about Petr Ivanov the better. And the less Ivanov knew about her, the better. But damn it all--he reached down and brushed back her hair--leaving her out of what he was doing felt wrong.
Resolutely he turned and left, careful to set the alarm before jogging down the road to meet Lev. His brother waited for him beside a small Jeep. He flashed a quick grin and slid behind the wheel, waiting for Stefan to jog around to the passenger's side.
"You look like hell, brother," Lev greeted.
"I feel like I'm lying to her," Stefan admitted.
Lev had driven down the road, but he slammed on the brakes, giving Stefan a disgusted look. "Are you telling me you're lying to her about what you're doing?"
"I don't tell her anything. She's asleep."
"What are going to say if she wakes up?"
"She won't wake up. I made certain of that."
"You rotten bastard. Get the hell out of my car. You drug her? You drug Judith?"
"I already feel like a bastard," Stefan admitted. "Don't fuckin' lecture me." He dragged both hands through his hair. "You think I like doing it? I don't know what else to do. I've never been in a relationship with a woman. What do you tell your wife?"
"I tell her the truth. Everything. I told her we were hunting Ivanov and we'd kill him if we found the bastard, that there would be no other choice. If he gets to her or one of her sisters, they're dead. Rikki's autistic, she isn't stupid. She understands a life or death matter. And damn you, Stefan, so would Judith. What the hell point is there in being with someone if you don't trust them with the truth?"
Stefan considered hitting his brother for voicing what he'd been thinking. "I don't know, Lev. Judith is big on Jonas Harrington. She thinks the man can solve anything."
Lev shook his head. "That's not it and you know it. You think it was easy for me to let Rikki see what I am? You're holding that back, afraid she won't accept you if she really sees you. Telling someone about our work and asking them to live with it when we're hunting are two different things. You're afraid, Stefan."
"Maybe."
"There is no maybe. Man up. You can't be with her if she doesn't accept you, and you're not even giving her the chance."
"And if she doesn't? What then, Lev? And don't tell me you could walk away from your Rikki, because if you could, you don't feel for her like I do for Judith."
"Rikki grounds me. She's the center of my world. No, there'd be no walking away from her, but we talk things out. If you're going to do this with Judith, you have to trust her with who you really are." Lev glanced at him. "I think you already know that."
"I'll think about it." The idea of Judith rejecting him was impossible to think about. He'd been tortured, shot, knifed and faced threats to his life every day. Nothing he'd ever done scared him as much as just the thought that Judith would look at him with loathing.
Lev took the road leading into Sea Haven along the ocean, a roundabout way in, that allowed them to park out a distance from one of the small places Stefan had rented as a bolt hole. He needed to check his computer and didn't want anyone tracing it back to Judith's farm. He'd pick up his hunting supplies, a field kit and glasses.
As they approached the backstreets, Stefan put his hand on his brother's arm. "He's here. Close by. I can feel him."
Lev didn't argue with him. He pulled his baseball cap a little lower. He wore a beard and dressed as a local might, much more casual, his shirt open, his jeans faded and worn. "He won't recognize me."
"Don't count on it. Never underestimate Ivanov," Stefan said grimly.
"I'm not associated with this vehicle at all. I've completely remodeled it, and added a few additions in a barn on the farm. Rikki and I avoid towns as a rule. We do shop in Inez's store, but we use her truck. Most of the people here in town will swear they've known Levi Hammond for years."
The Jeep had no doors, but it had plenty of power and the ability to go through the forest where there was no road. Stefan kept his hands inside, close to his weapons, where he could use them fast. "Take a left up here. There's a small house. Use the alley. You can go right into the garage."
"He's got to be holed up near here," Lev said. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's next door to this place. Good escape routes from either direction and the rooftops are close enough to use. You've got the sea to cover noise, and no children that I can tell in any of the houses."
"These small houses are old. Mostly seniors who've lived here forever and mind their own business. They're friendly enough, but they don't pry."
Lev pulled up to the garage, Stefan was out and opened the door fast, allowing Lev inside. There was a vehicle already parked inside, a fast Audi, compact, and built for hugging the curves.
"I see you're prepared," Lev observed.
"Is there any other way to live?" Stefan asked. He checked the door. "Stay back just in case Ivanov's been here. I don't think so, and nothing appears to have been tampered with, but I'd rather you stay out here while I take a look around."
"You don't need to protect me, Stefan."
Stefan shot his younger brother his shut-up-and-back-off look. Lev shrugged and stepped behind the Jeep while Stefan went into the house. Every sense on high alert, Stefan moved through the small house. Only seven hundred square feet, it wasn't difficult to check every room for signs Ivanov had found his bolt hole. He examined the windows and even the kitchen sink and small refrigerator before he waved Lev inside.
"I put the weapons behind the wall by the bed over there. Get what we need and I'll check my laptop. When I'm working under deep cover I only check a couple of times a week, but I'm expecting the news that La Roux's been taken by our agents."
He powered up his laptop and waited a few heartbeats before typing in his code. At once a single message came across the screen:
Entire team killed. La Roux escaped us. Recover microchip and terminate immediately.
Stefan sat very still, staring at the screen. Sorbacov had sent a team to break La Roux out of prison and yet the criminal had somehow gotten the drop on them? Sorbacov was going to have to provide more information, especially with Ivanov lurking around. The entire thing stank. He wished he hadn't found Lev.
He sent his demand, insisting on a full explanation.
La Roux agitated and anxious to break out several days ago. His men were waiting and they massacred our agents. La Roux in the wind. Find him. Get the microchip and terminate.
Several days ago. What had changed? La Roux had seemed ambivalent about trying to escape. He had his organization running strong, a cushy sentence that would be over with good behavior in two more years. He was hooked up with corrupt guards. Stefan could understand why the man might hesitate. He'd been interested when he looked at the photographs of Judith, but if nothing else, La Roux had patience. He seemed willing to wait.
"Something changed," Stefan murmured aloud. He turned the screen to show his brother.
Lev whistled. "You believe it?"
"Yes. More than anything, Sorbacov wants that microchip. There's too much damning evidence on it. He'll come at the two of us later, but I don't think he'll be able to pull his dog off. Ivanov is locked on us and I wounded him. That'll hurt his pride. He won't acknowledge any of Sorbacov's transmissions and he'll keep coming at us."
"You know him wel
l."
"I learned a lot about him when we were in training together. I let him think he was better than I was. I've never had a big ego, so for a while he didn't catch on. Whatever it took to get the job done was all that mattered to me. Sliding from one skin to another was easy enough, but through the years, I couldn't stay under the radar. Ivanov noticed when I kept defeating the enemy. He's going to keep coming."
Lev rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You two have a run-in before this?"
Stefan shrugged. What could he say? Everyone had run-ins with Petr Ivanov growing up. Ivanov had held him underwater, thinking he would kill him that way. As a teen, he'd been sick and sadistic, torturing animals and graduating to his classmates. He would often loop a rope around a sleeping child and drag him or her to the window, throwing them out, and watching them dance on the end of the rope. Most of the time, other children overpowered Ivanov and rescued the victim, but sometimes, they didn't get the child up in time.
"Time and again the instructors had warned Sorbacov about him, but Sorbacov cultivated him, giving him freer and freer rein until one of the instructors who had angered Ivanov turned up dead, cut into small pieces and arranged in a hallway, sightless eyes staring in horror at the children as they came out of the dormitories for classes. After that, Sorbacov kept Ivanov away from the rest of us as much as possible. He wasn't in the dorms, but we all knew he had his own quarters and ate better meals. The thing none of them understood was, while he led the good life, protected by Sorbacov, we were still fighting for our lives. We were honed into fighting machines and he grew soft. No less mean, he's sick enough to need to kill, but he doesn't have the endurance and the sheer will to survive like the rest of us do."
Lev sketched a question mark in Stefan's mind.
"When he's hurt, he runs. I would have kept going unless the bastard knocked me out. He might have been able to kill me when I was on the ground, but he couldn't take the pain. He's soft, Lev, and he won't kill unless it's a sure thing."
"So basically, he's a perverted sadist bent on killing us."
Stefan nodded. "But he's not gone rogue. He may be ignoring Sorbacov now, but make no mistake, Sorbacov ordered him here in the first place. If he managed to kill us, he'd go home with some tale of how he didn't get the new orders and Sorbacov would swallow it because he'd have no choice. He's got a monster on a leash, but he doesn't want that monster to turn on him."
"You have to tell Judith."
Stefan pushed down the illogical fear swamping him. "Keeping her alive is more important. I think La Roux took the escape offered him, suspicious the offer could be a trap and got word through one of his guards to his own men. They killed our agents and La Roux most likely came here. He had to have seen that picture of Judith with me that Mike Shariton took of us together at the door of the gallery. That's what prompted him to agree to get out of prison. He's no one's fool, La Roux."
Lev pressed his lips together as if to keep from saying anything more and followed Stefan out into the night. They separated the moment they were on the street, each taking an opposite side. Stefan took the sidewalk closest to the ocean. It had the least cover, a short fence and wild plants shooting up all over the bluff, but not high enough at the fence line to provide any shadows to disappear into. He didn't try, but sauntered along as though out for a late night walk.
It makes better sense for me to be over there. He wouldn't recognize me.
Stefan scowled, but didn't bother with an answer. He'd come to Sea Haven to warn and protect his younger brother from an assassin. Nothing had changed his intentions, not even meeting Judith. It was bad enough that Lev insisted on coming along, but he wasn't going to allow him to take the dangerous position.
The wind had risen, slapping at the sea, pushing the waves into higher and higher crests so that they broke in towering peaks over the rocks and sprayed white foam high into the air. The sea was an angry power, showing no mercy to anything in its way, dark and turbulent. He felt the power, inhaled it and drew it deep into his lungs. Waves of energy rode on the power of the wind and sea. Violent energy. He had no doubt Ivanov was up to something sadistic--and he was close.
He's here--close, Lev. He's hurting something or someone. Stefan tried to narrow the direction down. Stay in the shadows. Don't come near me.
Whatever Ivanov was doing had to be close, the energy was too strong. He took a chance and crossed the street, angling ahead of his brother. The moment he neared a cross street, he felt pain, suffering, intense fear. The victim was still alive, but he could feel lifeblood ebbing away. He turned down that street and broke into a run. He was a big man and running lightly down an uneven street, expecting a bullet any moment wasn't the smartest thing, but if there was a chance to prevent an innocent dying, he had to take it.
The scent of blood was strong, but with the wind coming in off the sea and shifting continually, he had to guess at a direction. A dog began to bark one street up so he continued running up the road, hoping he was choosing the correct direction.
One street over, parallel with the one he was on, the lid of a garbage can crashed to the ground. Immediately, Lev broke out of the shrubbery and headed in that direction just as the dog abruptly quit barking.
Warning radar went off, screaming at Stefan, tension coiling in his gut. He didn't like that his brother was out of his sight and possibly rushing toward a sadist. He slowed with the thought of turning back when the scent of blood hit him again. The dog had ceased barking, but he'd marked the general area and rounded the corner and skidded to a halt. The house was dark, but the dog lay just inside the fence, his belly cut open.
Stefan swore under his breath, took a careful look around and slipped over the fence to kneel beside the dog. It was still alive, the eyes looking at him as if he could somehow save the day. "Fucking psycho," Stefan whispered. He put his hand gently on the dog's head. "I'm sorry, boy." There was nothing to be done for the animal, Ivanov had seen to that, ensuring that even if the owners found him immediately, he was too damaged for a veterinarian to save.
Stefan took the time to stroke the animal's head one last time and then quickly and mercifully broke the dog's neck. He slipped back over the fence and headed for the street Lev had turned down. Ivanov was out tonight and he was doing damage. Stefan had always known, from the time they were boys, that Petr Ivanov couldn't go very long without making a kill. Animal, man, woman or child, it didn't matter. Watching others suffer and die gave him a rush of godlike power.
Lev, be careful. He's killed a dog.
He killed more than a dog. I found a pool of blood in a backyard here. He's been busy. I followed a blood trail but it disappeared abruptly.
Get out of there now. I mean it Lev, he's too close and we've got to pull back and reassess. You're walking into a hornet's nest.
Stefan's heart accelerated when Lev didn't answer him. Swearing in Russian, he raced down the street, deliberately making noise, hoping to draw Ivanov's fire.
17
LEV! Damn it, answer me.
Stefan was experiencing waves of fear, but they were feminine in origin, not masculine, which meant his brother was connected to his wife and she knew her husband was injured. Before he could caution Lev to break the connection, something slammed into his arm hard enough to spin him around. Almost simultaneously, a sound like a firecracker reverberated down the street. He dropped to the asphalt and rolled toward the nearest yard and cover.
Fucking bastard, Lev snapped. You hit?
Stefan made it to the overgrown shrubs and belly-crawled forward. A spray of bullets cut through the leaves all around him. He found a depression in the ground and rolled into it, making himself as small as possible. Up and down the streets, dogs began to bark.
A nick. You? Blood dripped steadily down his arm and his shoulder felt like it had been hit with a two-by-four, but he could still use his arm, and that was what counted.
Could use a little help. I ran into a trap and can't move.
Lev p
ictured a steel trap, chained to a thick tree, modified with serrated teeth and a punishing hydraulic system. Stefan had seen those traps before. Every movement would send the teeth sawing deeper into Lev's ankle.
I tried shoving my knife down into it to get myself loose, but there's no way that's going to work. The damn thing almost took my leg off.
Stefan swore between his clenched teeth. I'm working my way around toward you. Don't shoot me. And don't move. The more you move, the worse it will get.
I've got that part, Lev said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Several porch lights went on along the street. Stefan needed to keep Ivanov focused on him and away from his brother and any innocents. It didn't help that any minute some civilian would unknowingly enter into the killer's path. He counted to three, pushed himself up and sprinted for the count of fifteen and dropped, rolled and scooted forward on his belly, using elbows and toes to propel his body behind a screen of rocks and fern.
Bullets spat dirt into his face and ricocheted off the rocks closest to him. He was grateful Ivanov had always been a close range killer and rarely used a gun for the actual kill. He preferred blades, in close, where he could see his victim suffer. That said, an automatic machine gun definitely was up to the job if Stefan allowed himself to grow careless.
What the hell are you doing, Stefan?
Keeping him away from you. What the hell do you think I'm doing? Stefan snapped.
He was running out of garden cover on his side of the street. Few cars were parked and his only choices were to go up, onto the rooftops, or risk crossing the street. Neither was a great idea, but he had to keep Ivanov focused on him. Reluctantly he pulled his gun from the harness, the butt familiar in his palm. He didn't want to risk stray bullets going into a house, but damn it all, he had to get the upper hand here soon with Ivanov.
I don't hear return fire, Lev said.
I don't fire unless I can hit what I'm aiming at and I don't have the bastard in my sights. I'll get him, Stefan said, pouring confidence into his voice. Right now, I want to work into a position where he'll keep his focus on me, and yet not have a clear shot while I get that trap off your ankle.