Blood and Bone: (Royal Blood #6) (8 page)

F
olsom turning
up dead had thrown a dirty great big fucking spanner in the works.

He’d been right about a lot of things, the big kahuna being that Moltke had fingers in MI6’s pie. He knew Folsom was onto him, so he’d broken into his home and executed him. It brought back a lot of memories that I thought I was done with, but bad guys were forever shooting one another in the fucking head— like Sykes had murdered my family and how I put an end to him.

BAM.
Right between the eyes
.

Folsom being dead meant Moltke knew we were hunting him. Not just the whole fucking world but us specifically—X, Jackson, and me. He’d probably always suspected we would, but now he knew for sure, and that would make this much harder than it already had been. He knew our strengths and weaknesses from working at Section Seven. He knew what made us tick, and he’d use every last shred of intel against us.

The only ray of light was that Jackson’s family was safe. Their location hadn’t been compromised, and the agents assigned had been loyal to Folsom. They’d be well looked after until this was over, just like they’d been promised.

This whole thing seemed like a bridge too far…if you know what I mean. I had a bad feeling we were being set up, and this meet with Bateman was an elaborate ruse to flush us out like rats.

Staring at the rows of shipping containers through binoculars, I studied the ship docked closest to our position at the Tilbury wharf, the lights of Greater London stretching off into the distance across the River Thames. I’d counted as many as twenty vessels, from tankers to container ships to passenger liners. Chatter Jackson had picked up indicated Moltke and Bateman were to meet within the rows of containers being unloaded from the
Maersk Norwich
.

“This is bad news,” I said, my gaze raking over the stern of the ship. The huge black letters read
Maersk Norwich
.
That was the one.
“This has been too easy.”

“It’s a trap,” X declared. “Of course, it is.”

Dropping the binoculars into his hand, I asked, “Then why are we walking right into it?”

“It’s the only lead we have,” he replied. “We have no choice.”

I snorted.

“What we do have control over,” he continued, “is how we approach the problem. We know it’s a trap designed to eliminate us, so we have a chance to alter the outcome.”

“By leaving our eyes and ears at home?”

“Jackson cannot do anything more for us tonight,” he said. “Let him be with his family.”

“Do you think that Banshee woman will be here?”

“No,” X declared with absolute certainty. “I took her to be a smart woman.”

“So we’re dumb?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“We’re knowingly walking into a trap, so yes.”

“Tell it like it is, why don’t you.”

“You know me, Mercy.”

“Direct and to the point,” I replied, clamping my hand over his thigh. Staring through the windshield and across the wharf, I added, “Shall we get this stupidity over and done with?”

X nodded and slid from the car. Following suit, we made our way in silence toward the wharf.

Moving through the industrialized backstreets, we sidled up against the chain link fence that blocked off the edges of the holding yard, and forced our way through a break. For a yard meant to be secured for international goods waiting to be cleared by UK customs, security was pretty loose.

We slipped through the shadows like ghosts, weaving through the rows of shipping containers searching for the rendezvous point. The hum of cranes and machinery operating on docks further into the Port Authority echoed through the silence, each turn we took looking exactly like the one before.

I took point, making sure each leg of our advance was clear before moving. Relying on my training from both X and Section Seven, I guided us through the murky light to ground zero.

Movement ahead caused me to halt, and X pressed against my back. Holding up a hand to let him know we were close, I peered around the corner.

In the midst of the patchwork of shipping containers there was a clearing partially lit by the floodlights from the
Maersk Norwich
, which was looming above the scene like a silent giant.

Three men stood in its shadow and a fourth, who I made as Moltke, emerged to join them. Recognizing Bateman’s refined, smooth, all business exterior from the market in Berlin, I signaled the body count to X. Moltke was alone, and Bateman had brought two of his boyfriends.

All the players were in place.

My gaze returned to our ultimate target, and I sized him up. Moltke’s stature had always been intimidating. Even if I hadn’t known about his past, the power and unpredictability he carried around in his psyche still radiated off him with the force of a thousand million suns. Now that we’d learned about his wife Vesper’s disappearance, it had just multiplied a trillion times.

Knowing what X had gone through to find me after I’d been taken by Royal Blood and given to The Watchman, I didn’t doubt Moltke’s wrath one bit. What I didn’t understand was the part where he thought blowing up Section Seven was a good idea. There was no proof Vesper was dead. She’d disappeared, so there was every possibility she was still out there.

Was this about her? Or was it something else entirely? I had no idea anymore.

X laid his hand on my shoulder, motioning for me to hold position and wait for the exchange to happen. Nodding, I settled next to him, my gun at the ready in case things went south before schedule.

Moltke glanced at the assembled men, his assessment of their strength unknown, then zeroed in on Bateman. “Is the chemical secure?”

“It’s safe,” he replied. “But what I want to know is if our other arrangement has been fruitful.”

Moltke smiled and smoothed down his suit jacket. “You vouched for Gruber,” he said, pulling out a gun from underneath his jacket. “He turned out to be rather stupid, yes?”

Bateman eyed the weapon, his eyes widening slightly. “But—”

“But what?” Moltke spat, clicking off the safety. He still didn’t raise the gun, letting it dangle at his side.

Bateman didn’t reply, choosing silence over negotiating his way out of a very deep hole.

Moltke snorted and shook his head. Before anyone could blink, he raised the gun and fired.

Bateman stumbled, his arm dampening with blood, and he slapped a hand over the wound. His goons all cocked their weapons, pointing them at Moltke, who just stared impassively.

“
You shot me!
” Bateman exclaimed.

“You disappointed me,” Moltke said in return. “Next time, failure will result in death. Are we clear?”

“
You came to me,
” Bateman snarled. “You do not get to order me around like I’m your lap dog.”

Moltke laughed, casting his gaze around the clearing between shipping containers.
This whole fucking thing was a show for our benefit.
Moltke was showing us and everyone who was present how big and fearless his balls were. He was a crazy son of a bitch, single minded in his quest for…whatever it was he bloody wanted.

“I own you, Bateman,” he declared. “Disappoint me again and I’ll make your death spectacular…
and painful
. Secure the Veltium-34, and find me a new chemist and bomb maker. My schedule remains the same.”

So we hadn’t stopped his plan at all. Gruber melting himself had only caused a hiccup in the grand scheme.

Running the odds through my mind, I decided we needed to end this as soon as possible. My line of sight was clear on Moltke, and with X covering my back, he could take Bateman and his heavies with three shots. X was a brilliant marksman. He could do it. This nightmare could end right here, right now.

“I’ve got a clear shot,” I whispered to X.

“Uh, no you don’t,” X said, and I turned, my gaze finding the gun pointed at his head. His eyes narrowed slightly, and I knew he’d make short work of the ugly dude who was currently smirking in triumph, poised beside him with a handgun loaded and ready to splatter his brains everywhere. I was sure it was about to be a short-lived victory.

X glanced at the man, and I ducked as his hand shot up. His palm slammed into the barrel of the gun, forcing it up and away from his head. A boom split the air as it went off, a bullet ricocheting off the container and flying off into the dark sky.
So much for the stealthy approach
.

As X put the guy flat on his back and gave him a bullet for his efforts, I leaned around the corner to see the group of men splintering and drawing weapons. Moltke had a smirk on his stupid face that said he’d been waiting for this moment all night. Bateman had legged it, his men melting into the darkness after his cowardly ass.

“He’s alone,” I said to X. “I’ve got a sh—”

X grabbed my arm. “No, we wait. Circle around and—”

“I can do this,” I snapped. I shook him off, raised my gun, and stepped around the container.

“
Don’t!
” X yelled after me. “
It’s a trap!
”

I wasn’t listening. I could see Moltke fleeing ahead of my position, and I sprinted after him, my gun drawn and ready to shoot the fucker the moment I got a clear shot.

Weaving through the maze of shipping containers, I stumbled back as a bullet clipped the steel beside my head. Holding position behind the cover of the container, I waited until the ricochet had subsided before leaning around and firing. Sparks littered the place Moltke had just occupied as my own bullet grazed his shadow, and I leapt into action.

Following him, I ran, my boots thudding against the asphalt as my breath whooshed raggedly through my parted lips.
I’d get him, and X would see.

I rounded the next corner, the massive container ship coming into view. Before I could go another step, Moltke’s forearm slammed into my face, and my head snapped backward, sending me flat on my ass. Pain splintered through my body as I collided with the asphalt, stars exploding in my vision as my head cracked against the hard surface.

Staring up into the darkness, I made out the shape of a dark blue shipping container dangling right over me. Glancing to the side, I realized it was being held aloft by a ship-to-shore crane…the metal secured to the machine by a giant magnet. It was meant to be offloaded from the ship that was currently in dock, but I knew what was going to happen long before my brain caught up. The same brain inside my stupid head that needed to tell my unresponsive limbs to move.

The container began to fall, and I lay there, frozen to the spot.

Move, Mercy! MOVE!

Three seconds and I’d be splattered underneath thirty tons of packed shipping container, but I could do nothing but watch my miserable life flash before my eyes.

Hands grasped my shoulders, pulling me backward, and suddenly, my body began to respond. Pushing with my feet, I propelled myself faster along the asphalt until—
BOOM!

Air and sound rushed past me as the container collided with the earth, and I fell, covering my ears.

“
Mercy!
”

Hands pulled at my wrists as a bulky body appeared over me. Blinking up into the darkness, I knew it was X. He was the only crazy fucker out there who’d risk himself like that to save me. I’d been so fucking stupid. I’d been lured into a trap I knew was waiting and disregarded all the warning signs.

Pride. That’s what it’d been about.
I was just as capable as X, wasn’t I?
Not if I was that fucking stupid.

“
The fuck
…” X cursed, pulling me to my knees.

“Go,” I said, waving him off. “We’ve still got a chance.”

“They’ve gone,” he replied shortly. “This place is a fucking maze. Moltke could be anywhere.”

I began to shake as I realized how close I’d come to a gruesome death, and a cold sweat prickled over my skin. Vomit rose in the back of my throat, and I swallowed hard, trying to keep myself from popping all over X’s boots.

“Mercy,” he murmured. “Just let it out.”

“
No
,” I hissed, shoving him away. “We can’t give up.”

I moved off, reaching for my gun…but it wasn’t there. Glancing at the container, I knew it’d been flattened, and that’s when it happened. Bending over at the waist, I threw up, emptying the entire contents of my stomach all over the London Port Authority shipping yard.

X’s hand pressed against my back, rubbing circles, and I almost hated his gentle touch. I didn’t want him to be fucking tender. Where was the wrath of his disapproval? Where was the assassin who had tried to kill me all that time ago? Where was the monster who would’ve been enraged by my stupidity?

“We need to leave,” he said, pulling me upright.

Shoving him off, I stalked off into the darkness, more angry with myself than him. I’d fucked everything up.

Yeah, we needed to leave.

T
he entire meet
had been a show put on for our benefit.

We were meant to take the bait and open fire.

We were meant to die at the wharf
.

There was no way of knowing that there was any Veltium-34 in play or that Moltke’s timetable had shifted. There were more smoke and mirrors at every turn than any mission I’d ever run. I was being pushed to my limits, physically and mentally, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like losing, and I especially didn’t like Mercy being in the line of fire.

She was my everything. Without her, my soul would die.

There was one advantage to our mission. Moltke would believe Mercy had been crushed underneath that shipping container…if I let him. It could be an advantage or a blessing. She had the potential to be safe from whatever end game he was working toward. She could outlive all of us if this went badly, and that was a good thing.

Glancing at Mercy out the corner of my eye, I wondered if I could convince her to let me go this one alone, but even as I thought it, I knew she would never allow me out of her sight. I began to dwell on ways to combat that when I pulled the car into a dark, nondescript alley.

The safe house was quiet when we returned.

Instead of staying with Jackson and his family, Mercy and I had opted for a different location. It was in order to keep them safe and out of harms way, but it was also for a little privacy considering the kind of relationship we had. Our
noisy
relationship.

The only other person who knew where we were holed up was Jackson, and he was due to meet us here in the morning.

Mercy was quiet. She’d acted irrationally at the wharf and had almost paid dearly for it. I knew she was holding in her rage, and the pressure was currently building. She’d blow sooner or later.

Closing the door behind us, I watched her as she stalked through the darkness into the bedroom. Following, I shucked off my jacket and placed it on the dresser just inside the room, laying my gun on top of it. She let her coat drop to the floor in a messy heap, her boots following suit.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she hissed, glaring at me.

“You can blame yourself all you like, but it will not achieve anything,” I murmured.

“Why are you so fucking calm?” she exclaimed. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”

I narrowed my eyes and stepped closer. “Oh, I’m angry, Mercy. You don’t want to know how much.”

Her jaw tightened, and she stood before me, her gaze drilling into mine. “Don’t push me, X.”

She was fighting me, rebelling when we needed to have a strong front to overcome Moltke. She was trying to punish herself…but all I saw was an advantage I could gain over her. I should have talked her down from her self-destructive path, brought her back through the darkness like she’d done for me so many times, but all I saw was a weakness I could manipulate for my own end.

And that was what I acted upon.

Stepping forward, my hand shot up and fisted into the hair at the nape of her neck, and I forced her mouth against mine. She fought, twisting her face away, but her body told another story. Her hands grasped the waistband of my jeans, and she thrust her breasts against my chest as I ran the tip of my tongue along the scar marring her cheek.

“
Mercy
,” I whispered against her skin.

She froze, her stubbornness driving her to struggle against the love she felt, so I began to move my body, pressing my hardening cock against her stomach.

“
X
.” Her eyes closed as her lips parted, releasing my name as a strangled sigh.

“You want my wrath?” I asked. “Do you remember the first time I fucked you? Hmm?”

She began to tremble, her head nodding up and down.

“Over Weiss’s desk,” I murmured. “Hard. Unforgiving.
Brutal
.”

There had been no love involved in our fucking for a long time. Nothing but two bodies joining in pleasure and pain. A monster and his apprentice…but when had the apprentice become the master?

With a snarl, I pulled her top over her head and tore at the clasp of her bra, ridding her of the material that separated my cock from her body. Mercy was dazed, her eyes flying open as I pulled my T-shirt off. Then I forced her jeans and underwear off, mine following suit until we were both naked, my cock hard and primed to fuck.

She moved to take me in her hands, but I wasn’t going to give her an ounce of control. Spinning her around, I bent her over the edge of the bed and brought my palm down on her bare ass. The slap echoed sharply through the apartment, and she cried out, jerking against me. All it did was force her to rub my hard cock in just the right place, and I moaned loudly as pleasure seared through my body.

It had been so long since we’d fucked so violently, so long since I’d taken her with the need to calm my raging mind that I’d forgotten how consuming it could be.

Sliding my cock just inside her opening, I held, then drew back out. Repeating the process as she moaned in complaint, I spread her ass checks wide, palming her flesh as I teased. When she least expected it, I thrust hard, sliding my cock into her wetness.

Mercy clawed at the sheets, her knees buckling. Grasping her hips, I forced her back onto her feet and held her against me, feeling her body pulse around my erection. Why the fuck did the pleasure the monster brought to the surface have to feel so goddamned good? Truth and love should consume just as much as the pain death, and violence inflicted… The assassin called to me to finish the job, and I pulled my cock back and thrust, pounding into her again and again, allowing the beast to drive my actions.

Mercy began to come, tightening around me, her ass thrusting against my body, and still I fucked her. When I erupted, everything ceased to be, and nothing mattered but the seed I was spilling into her body.

Sliding into her once more, I held, my head falling back as a wild moan burst from between my lips.

Consuming. Obliterating.
Extraordinary
… The lure of the monster within called to me stronger than ever, the taste of blood it had awakened raging through my veins. I wanted her again.

Flipping Mercy over, I pulled her onto my cock once more, her essence devouring mine.

“
X!
” she cried, bucking against my body and driving me deeper still. “I… I…
Oh fuck!
”

Leaning over her, I covered her breasts with my palms and began kneading her sensitive flesh, circling my hips. Rubbing her clit sent her body into overdrive, and she shivered violently, doing whatever it took to force me to thrust into her.

I was close to blowing again, and every part of me wanted to draw this out and have her begging, but the mission was hanging over my head, ticking down to a catastrophic disaster. If I survived, I’d lock her up and fuck her senseless for an entire month. I’d take her in every way I could fathom, deriving pleasure we hadn’t yet experienced with one another.

My control slipped, and I fucked her hard once more, our skin joining in wet slaps that did nothing but drive me further into the abyss. I couldn’t hold onto my orgasm, and the moment she came, I did too, filling her again and again with everything I had left until I could bare it no more.

Letting my cock slip from her slick opening, I fell onto the bed beside her, spent of energy but coherent enough to understand that I had to complete what I’d begun, or Mercy would suffer the consequences. Her chest heaved against mine as we lay together, and it was bittersweet in the afterglow of the best fucking sex of our lives.

“X,” she said between breaths. “X…”

“Shh…” I murmured, not wanting her to break the spell.

Reaching into the bedside dresser, I pulled out the nylon rope I’d found in the kitchen earlier. Why I decided to put it here was beyond me, but I supposed old habits died hard. Here was where it’d be of most use.

Mercy arched her back as I pressed my weight into her once more, and I lifted her arms above her head. Caressing her wrists with my thumb, I kissed her softly, my tongue tasting the tang of salt on her skin. She trusted me completely, everything we’d been through up until this point only serving to meld us into one. She had no reason to doubt me. No reason to believe I was about to betray that hard-won trust.

Slipping the rope around her wrists, I sat up, straddling her as I tied her tightly to the bedhead. I moved quickly, and when she realized what I was doing, it was already too late to wriggle her way out of her predicament. Sliding off her as her eyes snapped open, I grabbed her ankles. She kicked, but my grasp was far too strong for her exhausted limbs to fight.

The scene was far too familiar than was comfortable. I’d tied her up like this once before…back when I was going insane. Back when I was meant to kill her for Sykes.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, tugging against the rope as I secured her feet to the end of the bed.

She knew.
She knew
.

She thrashed against the restraints, her eyes full of rage as I straddled her one last time.

“
X!
” she shrieked. “You can’t do this to me. You ca—”

Her cries were cut off as I shoved a gag into her mouth and tied what was left of my T-shirt around her pretty face.

“I’m sorry, Mercy,” I said, climbing off her. “You more than anyone understand why I’m doing this.”

She yelled as I gathered my clothes, but her words were swallowed by the material wadded up in her mouth. She thrashed and screamed and drove the ropes to burn her skin as I dressed, but I didn’t acknowledge her once.

Turning, I closed the door behind me, knowing either she’d free herself or Jackson would find her in the morning. By then, it would be too late to follow me.

We should have never joined Section Seven or MI6. We should have disappeared and lived out our lives in peace. This was a mission Mercy didn’t need to be involved in—that much was clear from the way she’d rushed into things at the wharf.

I was saving her from Moltke and herself. She’d see it eventually, but by then, I would’ve already ended him.

I was doing us all a favor by bringing a swift end to an ongoing problem.

Xavier Blood, the Royal Blood assassin, was back.

And I hoped it was for the last time.