Vengeance (SSU Trilogy Book 1) Page 6

  Niko turned right up a narrow set of stairs. Two flights up and three doors down he stopped.

  Jenna followed him into the sitting room of a suite, warily stopping just inside the door. Instinct refused to let her move too far into the room, keeping her closest to the only avenue of escape.

  She glanced around the room and reeled back in shock, hand coming up to shield her vision. The overwhelmingly red décor hit her like a punch to the eye. Her artist’s sensibilities bled with horror.

  The couch had screaming red-and-orange striped upholstery. Straight ahead, red velvet drapes covered tall windows, matching the red in the flecked carpet. The only relief from the color theme were the cream walls.

  It was bordello meets tsarist throne room meets…Jenna shuddered, not wanting to go further. “Ugh. The decorator deserves to be shot.”

  The corner of Niko’s mouth quirked up. “Yeah, it’s a bit much. You’ll get used to it.”

  She shot him a look out of the corner of her eye. “Um. That’s not particularly reassuring.”

  “So.” Niko opened a door to the left of the windows. “I’ll clear my stuff out and you can have the bedroom.” He crossed over to the closet and yanked out a worn black duffel bag.

  “The SSU paid for a suite?” she asked.

  Niko shrugged and carried the bag into the sitting room. “Not exactly,” he muttered as he passed her, clearly embarrassed.

  She raised an eyebrow.

  “I…ah…thought…if something went wrong and I needed to keep you with me…that you’d…ah…feel more comfortable with your own room. No big deal,” he added in a rush.

  Oh. My. God. Niko was turning pink. How sweet. And he was totally right. Having her own space, particularly now when she could still smell her attacker on her clothes and body, was exactly what she needed.

  “Thank you,” she said thickly, forcing the words past the lump of emotion in her throat.

  Niko shrugged again as he moved back into the bedroom and turned on the lamp on the nightstand. The light threw his face into angular shadows that emphasized his slightly hawkish nose and the hollows underneath his cheekbones. With his worn jeans and scuffed leather jacket, Niko looked the part of an operator—all tough edges, with the confident grace of a hunting cat.

  She should have been feeling an increase in wariness, yet instead she felt protected. And touched by his embarrassment. She had the fleeting image of him slipping into the shadows, content to have his good deeds remain anonymous.

  “The sheets haven’t been changed since I got here, but it’s only been two days. I don’t have lice or any weird rashes, so you should be okay.” He scowled at the bed, as if it didn’t quite live up to his expectations. “You can sleep on top of the sheet if you want, only it gets a little chilly in here at night and you might want the extra warmth.”

  Still scowling, he pulled the covers down and fluffed the pillow.

  Growing up, Jenna’s mother used to turn down the bed for her and plump the pillows like that. To her horror, her bottom lip started to tremble.

  “Dammit, I upset you.” She heard the edge of male panic in his voice and almost smiled.

  “Listen, let me go downstairs. I’m sure I can find some fresh sheets.”

  Jenna shook her head. “No. I don’t mind sleeping on your sheets,” she said. “It’s just…” She shook her head and turned away, fighting back tears.

  Don’t fall apart in front of Niko, she told herself. You haven’t cried in nearly two years. Don’t you dare start now.

  A drop of water slid from her hair down her back and she shivered, both from cold and from remembering the feeling of suffocation when her attacker shoved her face into the basin full of water.

  Of course Niko noticed. He cursed in a language she didn’t recognize. “You’re wet and cold.” He brushed past her and headed for another door. “Here’s the bathroom. The towels are fresh. I’ll call down for more when I need to shower.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “We need to get you cleaned up.” His eyes slid impersonally over her, like a doctor checking out a patient. “Do you want help?”

  “No! I…” She shook her head vigorously, then winced as the motion started her wounds throbbing. No matter how safe she felt with Niko, she didn’t want any man’s hands on her, even to clean her cuts. It had been bad enough suffering the knowing gazes of the male policemen and the doctor. “Thanks, but I’ll manage okay on my own.”

  He nodded, eyes full of understanding. “Okay. While you shower, I’ll find you some sweats to change into. Yell or thump on the door if you start feeling woozy. Then you can lie down while I get your things from Tonelli.”

  She nodded and headed into the bathroom. Once the door was closed and the lock engaged, she felt a slight lowering of her shoulders. Then the trembling started.

  Knowing she was heading into more than just routine adrenaline letdown, and too exhausted to fight it, she quickly turned on the hot water in the bathtub, stripped out of her clothes, and submerged herself before her legs gave way.

  Then, for the first time in two years, she fell completely apart.

  Chapter 5

  Monday, Night

  Moscow, Russia

  Four hours later, Jenna stuffed her trembling hands into the pockets of her baggy pants. She hesitated at the base of the path to the bar, eyeing the door like it was the gateway to hell.

  When Niko had led her out of the restroom, her only thought had been to get back to the hotel and into a steaming bath. She’d never wanted to see this place again.

  She’d soaked for an hour, tears coursing down her face and sobs wracking her body. When she’d finally calmed down, she’d taken a shower and scrubbed her skin until it was tender. But it felt like her attacker was still with her, a phantom whose fingers continued to crawl across her skin.

  Not only that, her mind was now stuck in a loop—bouncing back and forth between this afternoon’s near-rape and the rape two years ago. Watching her mother being raped. Hearing Isabel’s screams and Kai’s laughter.

  Her breathing started to come in shallow pants and she dug her fingernails into her palms, trying to stave off the impending panic attack.

  No. She wouldn’t remember. She had to stay strong. She closed her eyes, forcing the memories away. Searching for her place of calm, where nothing could hurt her and emotion was forbidden.

  Her breathing evened out and she relaxed her fingers.

  Someone bumped into her shoulder and her eyes flew open, stomach clenching as she braced for an attack.

  But it was just a young couple heading to the bar. They shot her annoyed glances as they passed and spoke harshly to her in Russian.

  Jenna followed them, her heart rate increasing with each step, until she thought the speed of it must be visible even through her layers of clothes. So much for fighting off panic.

  Relax.You’re dressed as a boy. No one will recognize you. No one’s going to hit on you. Lock the fear away. Besides, tonight she had her weapons on her body, not in her purse. A knife was strapped to her ankle and a pistol rested in a custom-made holster under her left arm. Mark had raised an elegantly manicured eyebrow when she’d presented him with her weapons for clearance through customs, but she had to give him credit, after she’d pointed out that she might need to save his life if something went wrong he’d given in without protest.

  Her tongue touched the cyanide cap on her back tooth. And if necessary, she had a way out no one knew about.

  Still, even though she was armed, her stomach threatened to throw up the soup Niko had coaxed her to eat for dinner. Maybe she should just go back to the hotel.

  No.

  Kai could not be allowed to go unpunished, no matter what it cost her.

  Determination and anger propelled her up to the door just as a large group was ushered through. A different doorman was on duty this evening, yet Jenna knew her eyes were unique enough to be remembered. So she tugged her newsboy’s hat lower, ignoring the pain as it scraped ag
ainst the swollen cuts on her forehead from where she’d hit the faucet. Slouching in her worn army jacket, she hoped the doorman would only see a punk boy, if he noticed her at all.

  She skirted around the laughing, jostling people and made it inside without challenge.

  It was much more crowded tonight. She couldn’t even see the wooden bar through the throng. She worked her way around the edges until she spotted an empty two-person table in the corner. Sitting away from the main flow of traffic, the table was protected from attack by walls on two sides, and provided a view of all the entrances. She dodged her way through the crowd, but no one else seemed intent on claiming the table. When she sat down, she realized why. Thanks to a broken leg, the table listed at a dangerously steep angle. So what. She wasn’t here to eat, and she could easily hold her drink in her hand.

  The waitress sauntered up, gave Jenna a quick once-over, and lost her friendly attitude. She barked something in Russian. Jenna pulled some money out of her pocket and set it on the table. Then, mentally crossing her fingers, she gave the hand gesture she’d seen the old men at the bar use when they signaled the bartender for vodka.

  The waitress shrugged, grabbed the money, and walked away.

  Jenna let out her breath and felt some of her tension ease. Two hurdles down. First, even though she didn’t understand the Russian alphabet or street layout, she’d managed to find the bar again. All she’d had to do was hand the taxi driver the matchbook she’d tucked into her purse before the attack. He’d nodded in acknowledgement and she hadn’t needed to speak a word.

  Second, she hadn’t been recognized.

  Through a break in the crowd she saw that this afternoon’s bartender was still on duty. She wished she could question him further about Kai, but not only would her voice give her away as female, if she spoke English she’d give away the fact she wasn’t one of the locals. She’d only drummed up the courage to come to the bar alone by convincing herself no one would notice her. So she’d have to be content with watching the entrances to see if her brother showed up.

  She scanned the people milling around. No one looked her way and a little more tension left her body. She scooted back into her chair, slumped her shoulders, and prepared to wait.

  She wondered if she’d make it back to the room before Niko returned. He’d left again shortly after bringing her the soup, saying something about meeting with a local contact. She’d tucked a note into the picture frame by the door where he’d be sure to see it, explaining where she’d gone, and why.

  A woman at a nearby table screamed with laughter.

  Jenna stifled the urge to cover her ears with her hands until the shrill laughter faded. Instead, she carefully scanned the patrons. She hoped Kai showed up soon. She…

  Uh-oh.

  Mark Tonelli pushed his way through the people near the door. He glanced at the crowded bar, then sat down at a table that had just freed up near Jenna.

  Damn it, what was he doing here?

  She waited until his head was turned away from her, then pulled her cap down lower on her head. A few scoots shifted her chair until she could watch Mark without being obvious.

  After about fifteen minutes, the bartender left his post. Mark got up and followed him into the back.

  No fair. She wanted to hear what the bartender had to say, but even if she managed to get close enough to eavesdrop, she didn’t understand Russian.

  Cursing her ignorance, Jenna twirled her glass around on the table until a bit of vodka splashed out. She was mopping up the spill when Mark returned. The bartender must have said something encouraging, because Mark sat back down at his table, a smugly satisfied look on his face.

  Full of cautious optimism, Jenna settled in to wait.

  #

  By one o’clock in the morning, Jenna was about ready to give up. The cigarette smoke made her head ache. Fighting to stay alert had her nerves stretched taut as a bowstring. Every time someone passed her table, she flinched.

  Many of the patrons had moved on. With the thinned-out crowd, she was more conspicuous. Mark had been sending her increasingly suspicious glances for the past half an hour, but to her relief, he hadn’t confronted her. Although how he’d recognize her, she had no idea. Her coat collar was turned up so that between it and the bottom of her cap appeared maybe an inch of skin. Maybe he just thought she looked suspicious in a general way.

  He shot her another glance as he settled back at his table after visiting the men’s room. Jenna shivered. She’d barely sipped her drink tonight, terrified of having to use the bathroom. Just thinking about walking down that corridor again made her throat close up and her stomach cramp.

  Coward. What if Kai shows up in that hallway? Will you be too afraid to go after him?

  She shoved the table away and surged to her feet.

  How could she call herself an operator if she couldn’t face her demons? How was she supposed to survive long enough to get her revenge if she fell apart the first time she ran into trouble?

  To hell with being afraid. She strode toward the restroom. Of their own accord, her feet slowed as she reached the hallway. Walking the last few feet felt like pushing through molasses.

  She reached the place where she’d been pinned to the wall and her stomach lurched.

  Remember, you fought him off. You escaped. Focus on the positive.

  Inhale. Exhale. Push forward.

  Now she faced the door. The corridor was deserted. She took a deep breath. Reached a shaking hand forward…

  You can do this.

  And opened the door.

  The bathroom was empty, but her mind populated it with her attacker. Remembered the chill of the water and the suffocating feeling as her air ran out.

  Silver spots danced before her eyes and she threw a hand out, bracing herself against the edge of the door.

  She didn’t want to go inside. Thought she might fall completely apart if she had to.

  But how could she respect herself if she didn’t?

  Just two steps. That’s enough to prove you can do it.

  And she did it. Slid first her left, then her right foot into the room. She was sweating by the time she was done, but she stood fully inside, with the door closed.

  Her eyes darted from the sink, to the floor, and back.

  Tamp down the fear. The shame. The fury. Lock all emotions away. You survived. That’s what you do. You’re a survivor.

  Think strong.

  She forced herself to stay in the room for two minutes. To think about what had happened. To acknowledge and then accept that she’d gone over the line in the way she’d hurt her attacker.

  She’d be stronger next time.

  Then she allowed herself to leave.

  When she stepped out into the hallway, a figure to her left near the back entrance caught her eye.

  Jenna turned her head for a better view. And froze. A man with a stocking cap pulled low on his forehead walked almost timidly down the hallway toward her. His eyes were focused on the floor, denying her a chance to see his eyes, but her whole body stilled nonetheless. There was something familiar about the shape of the man’s head. Something familiar about the angle of his jaw and the way he held his body.

  Kai? Adrenaline poured into her system. Colors became brighter. The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke became tangier.

  What she could see of the man’s face was thin almost to the point of gaunt. And he didn’t have Kai’s confident walk.

  But still, instinct had her stepping forward.

  The man sensed her presence and looked up.

  And Jenna found herself staring into a familiar pair of golden eyes.

  Kai!

  The scene canted to the left, as if she was on the pitching deck of a ship. When her equilibrium returned, the man—no, Kai!— had already spun around.

  He bolted back down the hallway and out an unpainted metal door.

  Jenna charged after him, then stopped just before setting foot into the alley behind th
e bar. She swiveled her head, searching for danger, searching for Kai.

  No one. Dammit, where was he?

  There! To her left, walking swiftly away.

  Jenna’s throat worked as she struggled to call out.

  She didn’t even manage a croak.

  Tears of frustration blurred her vision and she swiped them away. The psychologists said guilt stopped her from being able to use her voice in traumatic situations, but this wasn’t traumatic. It was triumphant. She’d found Kai. Why couldn’t she use her voice now?

  She started to follow Kai, but he abruptly changed direction and headed back toward her, chased by shouts echoing from the end of the alley. Jenna reached out her hand as Kai dashed past, but he didn’t even look her way.

  She ran after him. No way was he getting away from her.

  He threw a quick glance over his shoulder as he ran.

  That’s right. I’m coming after you, you bastard! You’re going to pay for what you did.

  But his focus was on something behind her. Jenna peeked back. Four bulky men wearing black jeans and windbreakers were chasing them.

  No. Chasing Kai. She was just in the way.

  Well, tough. Kai was hers.

  Jenna put on a burst of speed and almost managed to grab Kai’s jacket just as he reached the end of the alley. At the last second, Kai skirted to the left and her hand met only air.

  No!

  Her eyes were on Kai so she didn’t see the broken wooden crate until her feet had already collided with it. The impact pitched her forward.

  As she fell, she tucked and rolled, landing on her back in the middle of a garbage-strewn puddle.

  She immediately jumped up.

  A fist collided with the side of her head, knocking off her hat and sending her back to the ground. She swept out her feet, knocking her attacker down. As he fell, she grabbed a broken board from the shattered crate and slammed it into his head.

  She rolled and once again pushed to her feet. And barely dodged the charge of another man. She stepped quickly to the side and grabbed his arm.