Stepping beneath the shower spray, I wash away Reid’s kisses and fingerprints, but I can’t wash away the promise I made to him. He doesn’t want another man touching me – and one man in particular. In truth, it wasn’t a difficult decision. Ilya is the vampire I shouldn’t invite into my room. I can’t find Blake if the man who ruined her drains my life source too. But what can I do? I need to come up with something.
As I stand in front of the window, towel-drying my hair, I spy Jason in the gardens. I feel guilty about lying to him about my migraine. I’d convinced him that the best way to help was to leave me in peace, and bless him, he had. He’dsent a couple of messages checking in, and he’d let me sleep in. And boy, did I need the extra time for recuperation.
I’m in the kitchen brewing coffee and ignoring the table where Reid and I feasted, when I get a message from Barrett. Everything comes back into sharp focus. He’s on his way and he’s bringing afriend. He doesn’t say who it is, but the fact he italicizes the word tells me all I need to know.
I race upstairs to grab my burner phone.
“Ilya’s on his way,” I blurt out as soon as the call connects.
“Shit,” Strider says. He heaves out a breath. “OK. Just stay calm.”
I pace my room. The first call I’d wanted to make was to Reid, but he’ll panic, and I need calm right now. I don’t have time to waste arguing about whether I should pack a bag and run. The time for debate is over.
This is happening, and Strider’s been with me from the very beginning. He doesn’t agree with every crazy idea I suggest, but at least he’s not trying to tempt me down a different path.
“I spent most of the night with Reid. Here,” I confess. “And I’m just a bit confused.”
“What the hell, Quinn?” There’s a pause. “So, am I allowed to call him yourboyfriendnow?”
“Don’t,” I warn because truthfully, I don’t know how to answer that.
“How can you take a risk like that?” Strider continues. “Do you think Ilya’s guards saw you with him? Is that why he’s paying you a visit?”
It’s not something I’d considered, but the question sends a jolt of fear down my spine. Could we have been seen?
“No, I don’t think so,” I reply. I bite down on my lowerlip. I can’t be certain. “Reid left in the early hours and messaged to say he’d got out without incident.”
“Leaving you to face the consequences,” Strider points out. “It was a dick move on his part.”
“No, it wasn’t. He wants to help. His brothers do too. Reid only showed up yesterday to convince me to leave with him.”
“And yet you’re still there.”
“Oh, you know me. Why get a rich, powerful, and fiercely protective man and his three brothers to do something when I can do it myself?”
“You’ve got it bad for him, haven’t you?”
“I’ve got it bad,” I agree. “But before you berate him further, you should know he’s convinced me not to lay a honey trap for Ilya.”
I listen to the rasp of Strider scratching his chin. He can lose days in front of his computer screens, and I wonder how long it’s been since he showered and shaved. “I might hate him just a teeny bit less for that,” he admits reluctantly. “So, how did he manage to convince you when I couldn’t?”
Picturing Reid between my legs as I rested back on the kitchen table, I purse my lips. “You’re better off not knowing. But it does leave me with the problem of finding another way to get information from Ilya.”
Strider blows out a sigh. “You know, if I had the answer to that one, I would have told you already,” he says. “All I know is any surveillance is going to be risky now. Ilya’s going to be on high alert after his men were attacked.” He chuckles. “I still can’t believe you shot one of them.”
I’d updated Strider as soon as I’d left Reid in the woods that night. I still can’t believe I did it either. “It’s what I’ve been training for,” I remind him, and myself as I check out my assassin’s frame in the full-length mirror.
My oversized hoodie and leggings scream comfort, and my hair is frizzy after leaving it to air dry. My face is makeup free, and my lips swollen from too much Reid. I don’t look like the adversary I need to be.
“Scared?” asks Strider.
“Shitless.”
“You can do this,” he says. “We just need to figure out what else someone like Ilya could need from you other than your body. See how today goes. You’re smart. You’ll think of something.”
“I will.” I take a step closer to the mirror. “But first impressions are what count. I’d better go.”
“Please be careful.”
