Page 47 of Enemy of the Heart

“Yes, the safe house is just west of the city.”

“How’d you pick this place?” Jace asks from the back seat.

“It’s the perfect location to hunker down. It’s in the woods with enough proximity to neighbors, which makes it a lot less suspicious. It’s also near Saratov, so getting supplies wouldn’t be an issue. It’s only six hours from the Kazakhstan border and close to the Volga River, so numerous escape options are at my fingertips.”

“Is this your only safe house?” Sean wonders aloud.

“In Russia? Yes. Although, I have a home in Rostov Veliky, about three hours outside of Moscow.”

“Exactly how many houses do you have, Lou?” Jace cuts in, and it’s a legitimate question.

“Five.”

I glance between the rear-view mirror and my left, finding identical expressions on the two men: jaws unhinged, hanging open wide enough to catch flies, their eyes bugging out of their heads.

“Your faces tell me you both forgot I had heaps of money.”

“Where are they?” Sean inquires, glancing out the window to take in the scenic farmland.

“Two in Russia, one in Joensuu, Finland, my flat in Boston, and a holiday home overlooking the Bay of Kotor in Montenegro.”

“Now that’s a real vacation, Lou.” Jace sticks his head over the center console with an award-winning smile splitting his face in half. “We’re definitely going there when this is over.”

As quickly as his excitement appears, a crestfallen expression shadows it as though he’s just been nailed with a harpoon.

“Chin up, Honey Eyes,” I state brightly. “Simply because Sean Diggory and Jace Marshall can’t leave Russia doesn’t mean your alter-egos can’t. I’ll get you both sorted with new passports. Viktor and Conall smuggle illegal things every day. With their help and minor adjustments to our appearances here or there, we can go anywhere we want. Hope is not lost.”

“What about you?”

“I already have fake documents.” With my connections, it wouldn’t be as hard as they think to travel out of the country, especially once some time has passed. They underestimate the blind eye immigration agents will pay you if they’ve been slipped enough money.

The song switches to Paleface Swiss’s “My Blood On Your Hands” as I exit the highway and turn onto a smaller, less trafficked road lined with trees that are heavy with snowfall. Their breakdowns are the best.

“How can you listen to this after…”

“After you blasted it almost all day, every day for months, preventing me from getting my beauty sleep and thinking straight?” I finish for Sean, shooting him a playful grin. “Easy. Something loved is not easily ruined.”

“I didn’t know you actually liked metal music. I thought you were fucking with us.”

That’s a fair assessment, considering how much I enjoyed toying with them. “I love it. I think it’s in my blood, though.”

“What do you mean?”

The sunlight plays hide-and-seek with the trees as I slow the car. “There are more heavy metal fans in Finland than in any other country. Do you actually listen to what you played at Ex-I, or was that just a fun torture tool for you to use?”

Joy crosses Sean’s gorgeous face. “I like it. The heavier the riff, the better.”

I beam back at him before refocusing my attention on the curving road. I’m dying to drag him to a show so I can discover just what kind of a fan he is. I bet he’s the type to stand there looking bored to tears with his arms crossed over his chest, but is secretly having the time of his bloody life. Personally, I’m the sort to thrust my hands toward the sky, my hair whipping about my face as I bang my head to the beat and belt out every word with an ear-to-ear grin.

“I prefer rock. Thanks so much for asking.”

I giggle at Jace’s obvious sarcasm.

We wind through the scenery for a few kilometers before I turn into the gravel drive that’s nearly invisible if not for the gate. I hop out of the car and enter the code on the lock.

I haven’t been here in over a year, so I can imagine the dusty mess that’s awaiting us. At least it’ll be a safe place for us to rest and develop a plan.

When I make it back to the car, Sean’s moved to the driver’s seat. When I’m in the passenger seat, the wheels begin to crunch over the fresh snow that has piled up. Part of me wonders if we’ll even make it to the house. By some miracle, we do, and about a minute later, we round the final bend.