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“Sorry I had a freak-out, guys.” Nothing like being the nut case of the group.
“That’s okay, baby girl. I do it like clockwork about every Saturday right after breakfast burritos.”
Only Rage looks me in the eye and when he does I can tell he’s not joking.
“To us freaks.” I raise my half-filled glass. He walks over refills mine and then raises his. “Never raise a half-filled glass. Bad luck.”
“Gotcha.” We clink glasses and toss our drinks back. “I’ve never had a vodka breakfast.”
“Glad to be your first, sweet thing.” He winks at me and I hear a growl come from behind me. Obviously, Ares has one ear on our conversation and the other on his. He’s speaking in low Russian and I get the sense it’s a tense conversion. Then again Ares always sounds like he’s either pissed, aroused or doesn’t care. Or at least in my experience.
He hangs up and taps the phone on the table. “Send the jet to collect Ghost.”
“Ghost?”
Shivering silver lands on me. “A distant cousin. Good with guns. I haven’t seen him in years, but he’s agreed to patch in.” His focus moves to Rage who is sitting beside me. There’s a silent conversation happening between them but deciphering it would take hours I don’t have.
I pull up the dialogue boxes with trembling fingers. Warm hands settle over mine. I understand how this will help save my sister, but it’s not fast enough. Ares isn’t fast enough. I can’t blame him either. He has to watch out for more than just one person. Everyone here depends on him. The crew. And he’s right about the other women being at risk if he moves prematurely on the brothers.
Ares’ fingers tip my chin toward him.
“You are protected here. No one and nothing will hurt you as long as you are here. Do you understand me?” There’s a warning edge to his tone. Now that I have full control over all my senses, old habits want to kick back on. Trust issues sit at the top of my must-work-on list. Knee jerk reactions are a bitch like that.
I stomp on my fear. This is Ares’ life, day in and day out. One he thrives in but my foundation of petty crimes means nothing when compared to his.
“I do this and I’m painting a bullseye on my ass.”
My fingers fly over the keyboard as I solidify my own plan to save my sister. And myself.
Sixteen
Nova
Idon’t know when my luck is going to run out, but it hasn’t yet. I send up a hallelujah and a few praise baby Jesuses as I sneak across the gravel parking space outside Ares’ compound. Gravel crunches underfoot but there’s no one around to hear me cross the large expanse. The gate is too far down the drive for anyone to see either.
It took me all of fifteen minutes to pull up a backdoor to the Volkovs’ bank accounts and drain them dry. I didn’t ask where the funds were being sent and Ares didn’t offer. The less I know the better. It’s bad enough I am the one behind the keyboard.
Ares requested I print out every transaction they’d had over the last two months. Forty pages worth of data. There went another fifteen precious minutes I feared might have cost me. I can only imagine the wealth of information those sheets possess but he was only interested in one name.
Antonov.
I didn’t imagine the stone-cold killer in him rising to the surface. All the quiescent power he reigned in until then released in suffocating waves. I had to get out or risk being drawn into his orbit of destruction.
His focus isnoton helping my sister. Mine is.
The second I hit enter on erasing the Volkovs’ money, Ares moved into action. He called a meeting with Rage asking everyone to leave. That was my cue while Dragon was occupied. I didn’t need to hear all the plans to know my sister is not their main focus. There will be collateral damage when they strike out against the Volkovs. Polaris will not be among those who pay for their sins.
Antsy, my fingers slip off the handle and I try again. This time I manage to open the back door of Dragon’s van and slip inside just as he leaves the side kitchen entrance. I shove down panic at the idea of being in the back of a panel van again and focus on the end results. I latch the doors and tuck myself into a ball behind the driver’s seat. The motor rumbles and thirty minutes later we’re stopping outside a place with guards. I can hear them shouting for the gates to be opened.
Metal grinds against metal telling me we’ve been granted access. Alarm bells go off inside my head but I ignore them. Dragon says something and then we are through. Dogs bark and I hear Dragon peel off in a rush of Russian to the guard.
He guns the motor and speeds up a long driveway. He shoves the van into park and the second the door slams behind him, I’m easing from the back. I spot a ball cap stuffed in the back of the driver’s seat. I grab it and tuck my blonde hair under the dark blue material. Sunlight on my hair is like a freaking spotlight shining in the middle of a room. Not a good mix for clandestine operations.
I don’t know if it is dumb luck or the Universe having my back, but I make my way to a side entrance undetected. It’s a place locked down as tight as a prison. Iron bars cover all the windows and there are enough guards with leashed dogs walking the grounds it would be hard to stay unnoticed for long.
I try the handle and when it turns, I slip inside.
I wait for my eyes to adjust. Standing here makes me utterly vulnerable, but I’m so blind someone could be standing in front of me right now and I can’t see them.
