Weather the Storm (Security Specialists International #3) (31 page)

“—know we were near Washington, Pennsylvania on late Sunday afternoon and still are because the weather is lousy.” Vanko swore under his breath. “Shit. We’ll have to move, weather or no weather.”

“Yeah,” Tweeter replied, “some badasses might already be heading your way. Sorry I didn’t get this to you sooner—”

“Shut it, Tweeter,” Vanko growled. “You had a life-and-death situation. Can you get me a general idea of where the fucker was last?”

“With time I can locate the signal the asshole is using,” Tweeter said, “if he’s still online.”

“Try. Keep me posted. I need to get Elana out of here.” Good thing he’d be switching out vehicles.

“Will do,” Tweeter said. “We also just received an unconfirmed CIA HUMINT report that Crocker is now hooked up with a Joe Peters who’s Demidas’s man in S.A. I just sent you a CIA dossier on Peters and his known associates.”

“
Huyem yobanaya pizda
.” Vanko barely controlled the urge to stand and kick a hole in the wall. But he didn’t want to startle Elana awake. “The shadow world is a small damn backwater some days. What’s Ren’s take on our situation?”

“About what you said, but in English.” Tweeter snorted. “Keely made him put ten bucks in the f-word jar.”

Vanko had to smile at the image of the tiny woman dictating to her alpha-hubby. He turned grim again. “MacLean’s out of the picture, so Crocker found another way to make some money. Motherfucker.”

“DIA is now positive Crocker was the anonymous caller who outed MacLean on Homelands’s tip line.” Tweeter’s mouth twisted in a wry grin. “Ahh, the irony.”

Vanko shook his head. “Contact Elana’s uncles and tell them I’m heading south.” Demidas would have informed Crocker about Elana’s uncles. The merc could use the Chernovs to lead him to Elana. Chicago had become too dangerous for his woman.

“Probably a good idea with the weather. Where in the south?”

“We’ll head toward Atlanta. I’ll lease a plane out of one of the smaller suburban airports and then head west. I want to put as much ground between us and our pursuers as I can.”

“What about Elana’s health?” Tweeter asked, a crease between his brows. “All this travel can’t be good for her.”

“She’s strong, my Elana. But I still plan to take it in easy stages to Atlanta,” Vanko said.

“What else should I pass on to her uncles?” Tweeter didn’t look as if he wanted to tell the Russians anything.

“Tell them to watch their asses. Oh, and to feel free to take care of the fuckers coming after them. We’ll see them at Sanctuary.”

“Gotcha. Keep safe, buddy.” Tweeter signed off.

Vanko glanced at the door to the bedroom and wondered how he’d tell Elana the news. No matter how he put it, she wouldn’t like the fact he was taking her in the complete and opposite direction of her uncles.

But she had no choice.

Vanko turned his attention back to the television with a renewed interest in the weather, but now for the South. Good news, once he was south of the Smokey Mountains, the weather cleared up. Perfect flying weather.

*

“Elana. Wake up.”

The words whispered over her ear. A large warm body aligned along her back. At any other time she’d awaken kicking and screaming, but not this time. It was because the body cuddling her belonged to Vanko. His scent, his voice, even the touch of his body was ingrained into her very being. He was her protector, her lover…her love. If any other man touched her while she slept, all bets would be off. Which only proved, she wasn’t completely healed from her past, but that she had a new present, one which would lead to a better future.

She smiled and opened her eyes.

“There you are,” he whispered.

His beautiful eyes were fixed on her. He was troubled. She could read him so easily now. How the hell that had happened so quickly, she’d never know, but it had. “What’s wrong?” She touched his lips with a finger.

Vanko kissed her finger. She trembled. “Get up,
dushka
. We have to leave. It isn’t safe here any longer.”

“Okay.” She frowned, but didn’t question his decision. He’d proven so solicitous of her condition and wouldn’t move her if it weren’t necessary. She sat up with his help and noted only a minor pull on her wound. Their sexual activity hadn’t harmed her, or the drugs she’d taken with lunch were working overtime. Either way, she was able to move freely.

“No questions for me?” Vanko got off the bed and stood in front of her.

“No,” she stared into his eyes, “I love you. I trust you. You say we have to go—we go.”

“So trusting. I’m humbled.” Vanko leaned over and cupped her chin with gentle fingers.

He was always so gentle and treated her as if she’d break. Later, once they were in his home and she was healed, she’d let him know she wasn’t all that fragile and wanted a taste of his wilder side. She had a sneaking suspicion she’d love him untamed.

“A kiss for the road.” Vanko brushed his lips over hers, gently nibbling them until she let him in and then he claimed her mouth thoroughly.

Her heart sped up, and she wanted more. She held onto his shoulders and pulled him closer. She tangled her tongue with his, tasting his coffee and something spicy that was uniquely Vanko. His low groan had her pussy moistening. He ended the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. She was happy to note she wasn’t the only one breathing hard.

“Hold our place for later. We must leave.” He swept a hand over her hair and cupped her head at the nape. “Get dressed as warmly as possible. It’s very cold and snowy. I’ll load the car with our things, pull it up to the side door, and then come in and carry you out.”

“I can walk,” she protested.

Vanko touched the tip of her nose with a finger. “You have no snow boots. I’ll carry you.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot.” She scrunched her nose. “Are we driving all the way to Chicago today? Maybe I can still pick up some boots before we leave the area.” She stood and was happy to find the rest, good food, and stress-relieving sex had made her feel one hundred percent better than the day before.

“Change of plans.” Vanko began to pack what few items of clothing they had into the extra duffle he’d bought at the Gap Outlet. “We were spotted at the clothing store. Crocker and his mercs could be headed our way.” At her gasp, he paused in his packing to look at her. “Crocker is now working for Demidas. Also, they know your uncles were heading for Chicago. So, we’re heading south, to Atlanta, where I can rent a small jet to take us west.”

“My uncles? Are they in danger?” Elana stopped dressing, the fear freezing her movements.

Vanko came to her and pulled her to him. He stroked her back. “They will be fine. They’ve been warned. Tweeter will tell them to meet us in Idaho.”

She leaned back within the circle of his arms and scanned his face. After several seconds, she said, “You think this is our best course of action?” When he nodded, she returned the nod and added, “Fine.”

Vanko muttered, “thank you, God,” and buried his face against her neck as his arms pulled her even closer into his body.

“Vanko?” She rubbed his back. “What’s—”

He lifted his head; his eyes seemed to glow from within. “You really do trust me to care for you and yours.”

“By
yours
, you mean my uncles?”

“Yes.”

“Vanko…
masik…
if my uncles needed you, I know you’d go to Chicago, but only after making sure I was safe. Which is what they would also want. So, yes, I trust you with all that I am and with my family…and any family we make together.”

“Is it any wonder why I love you?” Vanko brushed a kiss over her lips, but it was his gentle fondling of her ass that had her sighing into his mouth. “Finish dressing,
zaychik moy.
I’ll come back for you once the car is warmed up. Don’t let anyone in while I’m gone, yes?”

“I won’t let anyone in.” She rubbed her thumb over his bottom lip. “I promise.”

Vanko kissed her thumb and then released her. He went back to his packing. When he finally headed out with the two duffles and the medical kit, he paused at the doorway. His gaze was full of approval and love as he looked her up and down. “Remember what I said?”

Elana put her hands on her hips and frowned. “It was only a minute or so ago. Of course I remember.”

He must’ve liked her attitude because he laughed. “You aren’t afraid of me at all.”

“Nope. You might be all alpha-male dominant, but inside you are a gooey marshmallow where I’m concerned.”

Vanko looked to the ceiling. “God, she has me figured out. I am in so much trouble.”

Elana laughed. Her man had a nice sense of humor. It would be fun sharing love and laughter with this man. For the first time in a long time, the weight of her past had lifted from her soul. She loved and was loved, and the future was a bright, shiny horizon beckoning her.

“Be back soon,
lyubimaya
. Drink the juice I set out for you and take the meds. I want to stay ahead of the pain and your cold symptoms. We’ll have a long drive ahead of us. I’d like to make Atlanta today if we can.”

“I’ll be fine,
sladkie
. Hurry back.”

He nodded and left the room. The door clicked solidly shut.

After dressing, Elana walked to the kitchen area and swallowed the meds Vanko had left on the counter and drank the small bottle of orange juice. She packed up the food from the refrigerator and counter and put it into one of the market’s plastic bags. Anything perishable would stay cold enough in the back of the vehicle.

When she heard the snick of the door lock, she froze.

That was fast. Too fast.

Vanko had only been gone a few minutes. Something primitive in her urged her to find a weapon. She slipped a steak knife from the kitchen drawer into the inside zipper pocket of her new winter jacket and then took another one and clutched it in her fist. She hunched down and hid behind the bar-height counter.

The door opened. No sound came from whoever entered. Vanko would’ve called out.

Every hair on her body seemed to stand on end. The atmosphere in the room grew colder, felt more ominous. She flashed back to the night in the library—had it only been two and a half days ago?—when she’d hidden under a table and overheard Crocker and MacLean. The difference this time—she had a weapon.

Then fear unlike any she’d ever felt struck her. How had the person in the room gotten past Vanko? Whoever entered had used a key card. She stopped breathing.

No! Vanko’s not dead. He can’t be.

The sound of fabric swishing pulled her out of her fear-laden head. Vanko would want her to stay alive and get away. Whoever was in the room had moved away from her into the bedroom.

If Vanko could be here, he would. So, since he wasn’t, she needed to get out and find him. He could be injured; she refused to entertain anything worse.

Then fortifying rage swept through her.
How dare they harm the only man who had ever made her feel safe and alive!

Elana placed her left hand on the countertop—the knife in her right hand—and used the leverage to stand. She spotted the back of a large black man dressed in winter-weight camouflage clothing similar to what she’d seen hunters wear on the reality shows on cable. Her anger cooled into steely determination. She looked toward the hotel room door which was blocked open by the safety latch. The man expected others, so she had to move fast. Whoever had come for them, they hadn’t expected her to be dangerous. Normally, they’d have been correct, but they’d done something to her man. Not acceptable.

She moved out from behind the counter as quietly as possible and tiptoed after the man. The black man was armed; she’d seen his gun. She needed that gun. She’d figure out how to use it between the room and the parking lot.

Switching the knife from her right hand to her stronger left, she slipped up behind the intruder. With all the fury within her, she jabbed him in the back on his gun hand side and pulled out the knife, readying to attack again. The man turned, still holding the gun. She danced out of his way and using her strong dancer’s legs, she kicked his gun out of his hand. The weapon flew across the room.

She moved in, fueled by adrenaline and anger, she slashed at the man, cutting his arm. The man never made a sound and that scared her more than anything.

She moved away. She kept her knife in front of her. All the lessons her uncles had taught her went through her mind. Could she thrust the knife in between his ribs and into his heart before he succeeded in taking her out?

Damn right she could.

Surprising the man, she moved forward. Striking out, she hit his arm again as he defended his torso and just avoided being snagged by his hand.

“Goddamit, bitch.” His words were spoken in a low growl. “Stop messing with me. We ain’t here to hurt you.”

Elana steeled her nerves and swallowed her nausea. “I don’t believe you.” Never taking her eyes off the man, she moved toward the fallen gun.

The intruder sat on the end of the bed and glared at her. He kept an angry eye on her as he applied pressure to his arm wounds. “A little help here.”

She shot him an incredulous glance. “You have to be kidding me?”

Elana had a clear escape route out the bedroom door. And the man seemed more concerned in using the bed spread to stop his bleeding. She needed to get to Vanko. His life could depend on her.

Her heart pounded like a heavy metal drummer and her soul died with each second Vanko didn’t appear. She picked up the gun and began to edge her way out of the room. Her goal was to reach the front desk so she could call the police. Then to find Vanko.

Her exit now was blocked by two men. The identical looks of shock on their faces would’ve been funny if she weren’t so angry. She growled and pointed the gun at them. “What have you done to Vanko?”

“We haven’t hurt Petriv.” The tall man with shaggy blond hair replied. It was Crocker’s voice. She remembered the rumbling, raspy tone from his meeting with MacLean. The other guy was average height, average weight…average everything. If it had just been him, she would have rushed the door. Crocker’s presence persuaded her to stay where she was.