Prime Target (15 page)

I run my hands down her trembling back. “It’s okay, love. I’m still Roman. I’m still the man who adores you.”

“Everything makes so much sense now. The store, the grumpiness…the way you—”

“Not an act, darling. Sorry.”

She laughs. “Good, because I adore my starchy, stuffy bookseller. I adore him so much it hurts.”

Viktor returns, his face pinched as he takes us in. This is not what he was hoping for. Perhaps he wanted hysterics from her, so he could drug us once more, but instead, he got the brave woman in my arms. A woman trying to make sense of things, while believing the best about me.

“Hate to break things up, but I need the two of you to get dressed and come to the embassy. There’s some paperwork I need you to fill out, Ms. Andrews, and Mr. Smith needs to be debriefed.”

Everly exhales and then stands, keeping the blankets wrapped tightly about her. “Thank you so much, Mister…?”

“Jones,” Viktor supplies.

“Mr. Jones,” she says with a smile. “I appreciate all that you are doing to keep us safe.”

“Quite welcome, ma’am.”

I glare at him from behind her back, but the bastard has the gall to fucking wink at me.

“I’ll get dressed, and then we can leave,” Everly says before she dashes to the bathroom.

“Care to explain this?”

“You’ve been compromised. I’m here to help you get Everly out of the country. Safely.”

“Then why all the pretense?”

“I thought you cared for her. This is the only way,” he says softly. He knows me too well. The anger and tension building in my body dissipate.

My lips flatten, then I run a hand through my hair. “Let me talk with her first.”

Viktor nods. “Be quick. We don’t have much time.”

“I will find a way to repay you,” I vow.

My old mentor takes a step back. “I know you will.” Then he leaves the room.

I swing my legs over the mattress and stand up before pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweater. Joining her in the bathroom, I use the facilities and wash my hands.

Everly reaches up and musses my hair. “I can’t wait to see your shiny badge.”

“Don’t have one.”

“Okay, shiny ID card.”

I shake my head again and start to brush my teeth.

Her emerald eyes grow big. “Are you like
Mission Impossible
CIA? Like to the rest of the world, you don’t actually exist?”

An accurate description, except I’m on the wrong side of the law. I allow a ghost of a smile to cross my lips as I set down my toothbrush. “Something like that.”

“Good thing you don’t have to kill me,” she says cheerfully, and I almost choke as I rinse out my mouth.

“Why would I have to kill you?” Fuck me. I hate that she says this, thinks it’s a game.

She lowers her voice dramatically. “For knowing
too
much.” Apparently, my horror must show on my face, because she shakes her head and then says, “Haven’t you ever watched a spy movie?”

“No.”

“Do you want to see one?”

“Not particularly.”

She beams at me. “Gosh, Roman. You don’t know how happy you made me. I feel like…like everything’s back to normal. I’m the chipper one, and you’re the grumpy guy I like to tease.”

“Brilliant,” I mutter.

“Is that your real accent?”

“One of them,” I admit.

“It’s really hot,” she says as we head back to the bedroom. “But I haven’t heard the rest, so…”

The situation, her flirting…everything is laughable. I want to shout at her, to shake her, and insist she leave, that she run away, because I am
not
one of the good guys. And Viktor sure as hell isn’t one of the good guys either. We are death and destruction. We are vanity and greed, and we seek to conquer and take.

I lace her fingers with mine, before grabbing my coat. “Let’s get this over with.”

One of the men in black motions to us. “Follow me to the elevators.”

Leaving the others behind, we quickly do as he says and step inside. Viktor and Ben are waiting. Only Viktor’s face is pale and Ben’s doesn’t hold its normal humor.

Suddenly, it hits me. We won’t all make it out of here alive.

“Close your eyes,” I say softly, pulling my phone out of my pocket. I scroll through the menu and tap on the music app before gently slipping the attached ear buds inside her ears. “Listen to this. “Symphony Number Four” is one of my favorites.”

“Do you need to talk without me listening?” she asks, and I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

So precious to me. So utterly irresistible that I couldn’t stay away. I
should
have stayed away. I should have packed up and left the minute after she placed her first order for romance novels.

“Yes,” I say roughly.

With a smile, her eyes flutter shut. Such trust she has in me. “Roman?” she asks as I turn up the music. The music swells to a crescendo. I pull her to me, wrapping one arm around her waist and dipping my head to kiss her one last time while keeping my sight on the men in the elevator with us.

My cousin. My mentor. Which one is my enemy?

With my free hand, I reach for my Glock and train it on the back of Viktor’s head, then Ben’s. My heart slams against my chest, but my aim is steady.

Everly begins to shake, her fingers curling into the fabric of my suit jacket, as if she knows what’s about to happen.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” my cousin says, turning to face me, his gun out.

Despite everything, my heart sinks at his betrayal. He is the threat, not Viktor. I should have known, but my cousin… I don’t want to kill him in order for Everly to live. I practically helped raise him. “I would do anything for her.”

His knowing gaze turns to Everly, then back to me, his eyes blinking rapidly in Morse code. Nearly letting out a sigh of relief, I inch to the left before shoving Everly behind me. This is going to hurt like a motherfucker.

“Weakness is unbecoming of an assassin,” he says right before he shoots.

Everly

A
loud bang
goes off and I jump at the sound. Suddenly, Roman falls to one side, taking me with him. We hit the floor with a thud.

I barely register the elevator stopping as I yank out the earbuds.

“Roman?” He’s still. Too still.

I push at him. “Roman?” Panic wells up, threatening to drown me.

He doesn’t answer me. He doesn’t move.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.

I scream his name, beating at his shoulders, but he doesn’t move an inch. He doesn’t respond at all.

Terrified and confused, I start shouting for his partner. “Mr. Jones! Help us.” A dam bursts inside of me and suddenly, I’m sobbing so hard that my chest feels like it’s breaking apart. “Roman, wake up…
Please.
Mr. Jones, help us.”
Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead.

The heavy weight of Roman’s body is lifted off me and I blink up at two men, my tears making my vision wavy. I only recognize one of them—Mr. Jones. His dark eyes are sympathetic.

“I’m sorry you had to be a part of this, but Roman was a double agent. He’s also known as Nikolai Romanov. We suspect Nikolai is his real name and Roman Smith is an alias.”

I feel faint.
Let’s play a game. I’m a Russian assassin. Call me Nikolai.

Mr. Jones grabs me before I fall to the floor. “We have reason to believe Nikolai was going to kill you once his mission was over.”

“Why? Why me? I know nothing…
nothing
at all.” My gaze slices back to Roman. There’s a gun in his hand, lending credence to Mr. Jones’s statements.

“What do I do? I don’t know what to do.” I’m rambling now. I’m losing it altogether.

Mr. Jones rubs my back. “Come with me to the embassy. We’ll get you sorted.”

I nod, shaky and nauseous. For some reason, I try to turn, to get one last glimpse of Roman, but Mr. Jones shakes his head. “It’s best not to look back. My men will dispose of the body.”

“He’s really dead?”

“One shot to the head.”

“And he was really a double agent?”

A grim look covers the agent’s face. “The very worst. He’s killed and tortured so many, including women. They were his specialty.”

I wrench away from him, stumbling out into the hallway, and then puke in a potted plant. Tears stream down my face. I can’t comprehend what’s happening. I don’t know who’s telling the truth, not really.

The only thing I’m sure of is…

The Roman I know and love is dead.

Roman

I
wake up
with a start, my body moving as if still in motion. My vision is blurry as my arms shoot out, searching…protecting.

Everly.
I have to protect her. I have to—

A sharp pain comes crashing down on top of my head. It feels as though someone has taken an ax to it.

“Motherfu—” I bite back the curse and wince, gripping my temple and hoping the pressure from my fingers will alleviate some of the pain.

Strong hands grip my shoulders and force me back down. “Settle down. You’re no good to anyone right now, cuz.”

With a harsh breath, I force my body to relax and focus on the man leaning over me.

Black hair, pale blue eyes, and a smirk I want to punch greet me. Ben’s father, a man long dead, was the youngest of Dmitri Romanov’s sons. I remember when he first came to live with Grandfather. Ben had only been five and followed me around like a puppy. An annoying, nosy puppy who copied everything I did.

“You shot me in the head.”

He rolls his eyes. “I barely grazed you.”

I grunt.

“You look like shite, by the way,” he says, his smirk turning into a grin, complete with dimples. So innocent he looks. “Then again, an old man like you…your reflexes
have
to be slowing.”

Brat.

Although I’m still suspicious of him, it is a comfort to find his face above me.

I hold out my hand. “Help up an old man,” I order.

He takes it and pulls until I can sit on my own. My stomach roils in the opposite direction of the spinning room. Darkness threatens to overtake me, but I refuse to go down again. Instead, I picture Everly. Her face, her sweet smile…the trust that had shone in her eyes.

I have to find her. “Where is she?”

“With Viktor.”

Terror for her turns my veins to ice, nearly paralyzing in its intensity.

“He won’t kill her because he believes you dead and therefore unable to kill Sebastian or Vladimir,” Ben says pleasantly, sitting across from me. He pulls a knife and an apple out of his pocket, rubs the fruit on his trousers, and then begins to carve.

My vision sharpens on his knife. Despite his playful cockiness, my cousin the computer nerd is just as much of a killer as I am. He was raised in a killer’s household, and while Grandfather might be grooming him for other things, every Romanov knows how to take a life.

“Why did you let him have her?” I swallow, not in fear, but because my mouth is dry. How long have I been out?

My cousin gives me a look, then pops a slice of apple into his mouth, taking his time as he chews and swallows. “I had no choice. I couldn’t take you and her at the same time. He would have become suspicious.”

“Viktor assured
me
that the financier planned to kill Everly should I not perform the task at hand,” I say through clenched teeth. “How did you get me out of there? I can’t imagine Viktor not confirming my death.”

“He thinks I’m on his side and trusted me to dispose of your body.”

“His side for what?”

“Viktor’s working with someone who promises him that he will be his second in power. Rather crafty, if you ask me. No one goes after the bloke who’s second in command. Apple?” He holds out a slice to me, knife in his grip. I could take it from him in an instant and slice his throat. He knows this. He knows many things, some of which I do not, including the full story of how he was able to bring me here.

“No.” I look around the room. It’s old, but not in disrepair. There are dozens of computer screens displaying codes or live camera shots hanging above a large table covered in keyboards and empty bottles of water. A large black chair is in the middle of it all. Command central, I suppose. “Where are we?”

“Berlin. One of my safe houses. It’s been forty-eight hours since you were shot.”

Panic flows like ice through my veins. My hands fist. “And Everly?”

“Also in Berlin.”

“At least there is that.” My jaw works.

“She’s unharmed, Nikolai. The last time I checked on her, she was still under the assumption Viktor and his team were the good guys.”

The last time he checked…
Jesus
. “He will get nothing from her. Nothing. She knows less than nothing—only what I’ve told her.”

Ben’s eyes are knowing as they rake over me. “You really do care about her, don’t you?”

“I care about her safety. I’m the reason she’s in this mess in the first place.” I swing my legs off the bed, smoothing down my shirt and frowning at the drops of blood. Tentatively, I touch my head as I stand. Dizziness has me swaying, and my hands grasping at thin air.

“Head wounds are a son of a bitch, yeah?” Ben jumps to his feet, steadying me.

I grab Ben, twisting his shirt with my fist and putting my face millimeters from his. “Do. Not. Play. Games. With. Me.”

My cousin’s eyes widen fractionally, but I know it’s not because he’s afraid of me. No, it’s because I’m not composed.

But I’m past giving a damn.

“I’m on your side, Roman. Always have been, always will be.”

“
Blyad
,” I mutter. Letting go of the material, I shove him away and stumble to the bed.

“If you recall, I was the one who helped you recover the last time you were shot.”

I sit down, exhaling against the sudden pounding in my head. “You were ordered to.”

“Was I?” He goes back to his apple, slicing and eating it as if he hasn’t a care in the world. “In any case, Everly thinks you are—
were
—a double agent gone bad. He also told her that she was to be your next victim, once you were done with her.”

Is he serious? I could never be done with Everly, but I did have another rather large problem—bad reputation notwithstanding. “To her, I’m dead.”