Page 14 of Enemy of the Heart

When I step back into the kitchen, Desmond has already set several wine glasses on the kitchen island, and I wink at the quiet twin. Today, he’s my favorite.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

I glance up to find Viktor’s attention flicking between me and the expensive bottle of dry red wine as I decant it. “Why wouldn’t it?”

“You look…dehydrated.”

I hold up my broken middle finger. “If the torture didn’t kill me, Isä, a bottle of wine won’t be my demise.”

He narrows his crystal-blue eyes. “I’m not your father.”

“Torture?” Declan pipes in. “I feel like we’re missing something. And if it has anything to do with why you look like shite, I’m betting it’s juicy.”

Too impatient to allow the wine to breathe the way it should, I pour a small glass. “Oh, there’s a story, but I’m only telling it once, so we should wait until Sasha gets here.”

With a Túath glass in hand, Conall swirls his Irish whiskey and changes the subject. “I assume you’re going to be looking for a safe place to stay for the next few days.”

As Viktor and Conall hammer out the details, I lift the glass to my lips. I close my eyes and moan audibly as the decadent flavors of plum, blackcurrant, and tobacco dance on my tongue. Vittu, that’s incredible.

When my eyelids part, five sets of eyes are pinned on me.

“Good wine,” I admit with a shrug. There was a moment on the floor of my dank cell when I feared I may never indulge in my excellent drink of choice again.

Before anyone can comment further, I ask Viktor and Conall, “Do either of you have any jobs for me?”

“Aye,” Con confirms. “I contacted kuoleman jumalatar, but there was no response.”

“I’ve been…occupied. Is the mark in the city now?” I rarely take jobs with a twenty-four-hour turnaround, let alone something shorter than that. They’re too dangerous and unpredictable. However, I need to get my hands bloody. It’s the only thing that will keep me sane and level-headed until I can get back to Sean.

I may as well collect some money while I do so. You can’t have too much of that.

Con dips his chin. “Lenny Johnson.”

As much as I hate to admit it, I think I need some sleep before I start sending souls to the underworld for Tuoni and his wife Tuonetar to contend with.

I can’t afford to be sloppy now.

When the door creaks open, I step inside and am hit with stale, musty air, but I’m home. I couldn’t deny that it was safer to stay at Con’s place, but I wasn’t going to attempt to sleep without my fucking pillow. It’s late, but I’ve already gone too many nights without it. Plus, I could really use some clothes that fit.

Thank fuck, I bought this flat outright a couple of years ago; otherwise, there’d be no chance of gathering my belongings.

“So, this is where you live,” Conall states, scanning my lavish living space. He insisted on coming with me when Viktor said he was going to the private airport to meet Sasha and inspect the arms he brought.

“You’re a bloody genius,” I reply caustically, then yawn. I hardly slept last night…or the night before that. I stared at the ceiling of Conall’s guest room with my attention split between the two men most important to me. I couldn’t stop my mind from conjuring up images of what Sean might be going through or where my brother might be. Maybe I should’ve had more wine.

Yesterday, Viktor threw a fit about me leaving before I saw a doctor. Ridiculous, really. Especially since I didn’t let the attractive doctor on Conall’s payroll do much other than apply a few butterfly bandages and give me some antibiotics—which I’ve actually been taking. I even let her draw blood to check my white blood cell count to ensure I didn’t have gangrene or internal bleeding. As it turns out, my body really is the little engine that bloody could. No gangrene for me.

“Give me a break.” He smirks. “You’ve never let any of us see your place before.”

I shrug. “I like my privacy.”

Although I’m not sure I’ll be able to come back here again. The thought has me rubbing Sean’s dog tags that rest between my breasts. I’d abandon everything for him.

He shuts the door behind him after I picked the lock since the Feds have the keys to my flat. I’m grateful they didn’t use them. “Is that why you didn’t tell any of us that you loved the guy you’re waging a war to rescue?”

Swinging my head in his direction, I find him absently flipping through a large coffee-table book about medieval castles. I was only a glass and three sips of wine deep when everyone pressed me for the story. Viktor will have to hit the highlights with Sasha later.

I narrow my eyes, but he’s not paying any attention to me and charges on, despite my silence. “I wouldn’t so much as sit in traffic for any of the women in my phone, let alone go to war for one.”