Page 7 of From Russia With Blood

“Name please?” When she doesn’t answer, I nudge her, reminding her that there are other people with her, and she can’t just take her time.

“Katrina Sheffield,” she mumbles, handing her the boarding pass.

“Ahh, yes! We’ve been expecting you.”

Her friend bounces on her feet, frenetic energy coming off of her in waves. A feeling of dread curls in my gut, but I can’t place where it’s coming from. Sliding my hand under my jacket, I reach for the handle of my gun, needing that reassurance but coming up empty. If this were a proper mission, I’d have come in here guns blazing. As it is, I need to stay under the radar as much as possible.

I don’t need even a whiff of a scandal getting back to my superior. If they found out I was here without permission and lied about it, I could kiss my badge goodbye. As much as I want Luka dead, I still want to go back to work when I’m done. Cursing in my brain, I take a step back from the delightful minx. I shouldn’t have let myself get carried away with this woman. I can’t afford another mishap like last time.

Mission first. Always. I’ll still give her what’s coming to her, but I can’t let it go past that. Closing my eyes, Gloria’s face fills my mind. She always had a quick smile, a ready joke. Her eyes were always dancing with some mirth that only she carried. One mistake. One fucking mistake.

“You’ve been selected to have your room upgraded! You are now in 2D on the Coral Deck.”

Her room is now several decks above mine, almost at the top of the ship, while I’m stuck in the bowels. That catches my attention. Do cruise ships usually do that? That churn is back as she continues gushing over Katrina. I don’t know what it is about this situation, but the hairs on the back of my neck go up. But I can’t say anything. What would I say? What wouldn’t come off as a petulant boy upset that I’m on a government salary and can’t get a fancier room?

“Wait. We can’t afford that.” Katrina backs into me, her hand seeking out my thigh, as if she knows I’m somehow a safe haven for her. She must feel it too, then. “We’ll keep our old rooms. Thanks.”

Her friend whirls around, eyes dancing in the waning light. “We don’t have to pay. They’ve been upgraded for free! That’s the best part.”

“I don’t kno-.”

“Come on, Katrina. For once in your life, stop thinking and just do.”

My fingers itch to grab Katrina’s arm, to keep her safe by my side, but I resist, forcing myself to remain a statue. It’s a cruise ship. Only one thing on this boat is dangerous, and she’ll never have to face off with him.

“Fine. No charge?”

“No, ma’am. None at all.”

She turns and glances back up at me, unease flitting through her gaze. “Will you still walk me to my room?”

I’m about to answer when the lady checking us in interrupts. “Sorry, Miss. He’s on a completely different deck than you. It wouldn’t be practical. Besides, you’ll have more than enough time to see each other after orientation. These gentlemen here will show you to your rooms and take your luggage. Enjoy your trip!”

Katrina’s eyes mist for such a brief moment that I’m sure I only imagined it. Funny how in the face of uncertainty, she goes from hating my guts for manhandling her to craving me by her side. Shaking my head, I nudge her forward. I still have so much to get done before orientation, and any delay will make things harder in the long run.

With one more glance back, she disappears into the ship. I watch her until she’s out of sight before handing the lady my pass. She gives it a glance before waving me on board. Thankfully, I’d been to my room earlier with the security chief, so the trek isn’t as bad this time.

I’m just grateful he bought my story about being deep undercover and didn’t question me too much. Still, every hour I don’t get that dreaded phone call is an hour I can breathe easier. If he’d outed me to my higher-ups, I would have known it by now.

Even as I make my way into the bowels of the ship, I keep turning my head, hoping to get another glimpse of Katrina. She seemed so lost, so scared. Shaking my head, I turn myself back to the mission. I’m not here to play. Though I’ll have to mingle with the submissives a little bit, that’s not my purpose for being here.

Stepping through my door, I lock it behind, grab my gun from my bag, and inspect it, making sure it’s fully loaded. Luka Morozov may have escaped me once, but if he’s truly on this ship, he won’t be getting away again. A loud knock at the door startles me from checking my various weapons, and irritation at being caught so off-guard thrums through my body. Hugging the Glock to my chest, I inch my way over to the door, ears pricked for who might be outside.

I look through the peephole, pausing for a few moments as I see the security chief outside. This can’t be good. Why would he be back so soon? I check my phone again, just in case I missed something, but no. If I’ve been found out, they’ll most likely be kicking me off the ship then.

If that’s the least that happens, no harm, no foul. At least I would have tried. Putting my gun back into the holster, I gather my credentials just in case he has another question. I’m barely back to the door when he knocks again.

Throwing it open, I motion for him to come inside, but he remains outside the door, lips pulled down into a frown. Here it comes. I brace for the worst, determined to leave with dignity if needed. “We’ve got to put you in a different room.”

Alarm bells go off in my head. Why would I have to be moved? It’s weird enough that the girls got an upgrade, but since this room is being paid for by me and not the agency, there’s no reason the room would be changed or upgraded. Perhaps whatever good fortune the girls had rubbed off onto me?

“I’m fine right here. Everything’s already set up.” His eyes take on a pained look as they dart up and down the hallway.

“Yes, but you see, I put you in the wrong room. I misread the manifesto. This room is reserved for a very special guest.” He lowers his voice and motions me forward. “As an agent, I’m sure I can count on your discretion?”

Curiosity piqued, I let my imagination run wild for a brief moment. It shouldn’t surprise me if someone famous was on board. How often do secretive, kinky cruises happen? “I’m sure everything was planned in advance for my arrival. I don’t think I feel comfortable with being moved so soon before disembarking.”

“I apologize, sir; you’ll have to take that up with your superiors. I’m just the messenger. I can only speak for myself. And nothing’s amiss; this is just a matter of misreading the manifesto.” Nodding, he steps in to take one of my unpacked bags, but I stop him. No one touches my gear but me. Slinging my bag back over my shoulder, I gather up the remaining items and exit the room.