Page 60 of Enemy of the Heart

His job with The Shadows is highly secretive, and we’ve had an unspoken rule for years not to interfere with each other’s work. I’m unsure how much longer I’ll grant him that courtesy, but I won’t burst the bubble we’re in just yet. I’d rather enjoy the blissful moment of being reunited. There have been countless occasions over the last five months where I thought I might never see him again.

Seeming to take me at my word, Mercer dips his chin. He’s going to need to trust me when I say Sean and Jace aren’t threats the same way I trust him. Still speaking Finnish, I finally ask, “How long are you planning to stay? Where are you going from here?”

Selfishly, I want him to tell me that he’ll come with me, that he’ll leave behind the danger, at least until he’s fully healed. I want to recover together and for him to get to know Sean. I want to be with my family. I just got him back; I can’t bear to be apart now.

He sighs with his attention fixed on the large, floor-to-ceiling windows opposite us. Outside, the snow is piling up as the sky continues to unburden itself. “Once the snow clears and the swelling in my eye goes down enough for me to peer through a rifle scope, I can get back to work.”

“I was thinking of going back to my place outside of Moscow in a few days,” I tell him. This was meant to be a safe stopover point, not to become home. Plus, that’s more ideal for trying to get Sean and Jace working with Viktor. “I want you to come with us.”

“I’ll—I’ll think about it, Lou.”

Leaning close, I brush a kiss over his cheek. “That’s all I ask.”

Getting to my feet, I tug on his hand. My coffee needs a refill. He follows me dutifully, a soft smile on his lips like he finds me amusing.

In the kitchen, we find Sean and Jace leaning against the counter. I’ve only taken three steps before Sean has filled a mug with fresh coffee for me. When I accept it, the warmth seeps through the porcelain.

“How do you take your coffee?”

Next to me, my brother hesitates for a second before dipping his chin. “Milk, please.”

Sean turns to fix the coffee, and I grin, nudging my brother with my elbow. We’re all going to be alright.

Warm light floods the basement when Sean flips the switch several hours later. Once he and Jace descend the stairs, I catch my brother’s arm and question in Finnish, “Are you sure working out is wise in your condition?”

He scoffs, and the derisive sound makes my lips twitch. “I don’t need ears for crunches.”

“Fingers either,” I quip. I hope he spends all his time on the computer that I gave him access to early this morning. I find that less concerning than potentially exacerbating his physical injuries. As though he can read my mind, he rolls his eyes and mutters, “I’m being friendly.”

The gym isn’t as extensive as the one I have at my other homes, but it has more than enough equipment to keep ourselves in shape.

Jace is already sitting on the edge of the bench, a pair of dumbbells between his spread feet. Sean is loading the bar on the squat rack with plates. Blessedly, Mercer sits on the floor in the corner, opening the laptop. Good.

Beneath the pull-up bar, I close my eyes and stretch out my muscles for a moment, feeling, sensing Sean approach. “I like it when you smile,” he whispers directly into my ear before disappearing. I hadn’t realized I was, but when my eyelashes part, the mirror confirms his statement.

It makes me happy to be with my family.

The three of us lose ourselves in our individual workouts over the next hour. I toss a bottle of water to Jace and Sean and dab off the sweat from my face with Sean’s abandoned shirt. I wish he’d stop wearing them altogether.

“So, I’ve been wondering, how does it work?” Jace asks, still catching his breath. “Being an assassin, I mean.”

I sit on the floor, my forearms resting on my bent knees. “You submit a job listing for me, and I’ll either accept or decline.”

Out of my periphery, I find my brother’s eyes on us. I’ve never discussed this with anyone other than Mercer.

“How do you decide whether or not you’ll accept it?” Sean questions before taking a long swig of his cold water.

I lift a shoulder. “Gut instinct; I always trust my intuition. Outside of logistical aspects, it’s what I base everything on. It’s never led me astray.”

“Do you charge a flat rate or what?”

I tsk, a sly smile dancing over my mouth. “Sean, baby, you like to ask invasive questions. I charge by the job. The price varies upon the circumstance, the target, and the level of risk. If I accept the job, I’ll determine how much it’ll cost, and a deposit of half is required before I complete it. When I’m done, I’ll submit a photo of the eliminated target as proof, and the remainder of the payment is wired into my account.”

“How much would you charge to take out Viktor?” I take a swig of my beer.

My face hardens to ancient stone. “I would not take that job.”

Mercer joins officially when he snorts and everyone’s eyes land on him. His face is impassive, but he knows better than anyone that I’d never take that job. Conall either. At least I think that’s what the snort was about…