Grave Vengeance (9 page)

Before her head hit the pillow he began murmuring again, the words starting out soft but increasing in volume.

Scrambling back to his side of the room, she stroked his leg and he fell silent again. She repeated the cycle a couple more times, leaving his side only to return again when the nightmares crept back into his thoughts.

Crap.
Fatigue nagged at her tired muscles, but if she left Dmitri’s side his terrors would undoubtedly return. That left one viable solution. The only way they’d both get rest was if she held back the dreams that plagued him.

Careful not to disturb his sleep, she crawled onto the bed and slipped beneath the covers. She brushed her fingers against his arm, hoping the light contact would be enough to ground his mind in the present. Almost immediately, he rolled to his side. His muscled arm snaked around her waist and nestled her back against his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head, and a contented exhale ruffled her hair.

The scent of him, rich and masculine, filled her nostrils and gave her an unexpected sense of contentment. His warmth enveloped her, relaxed her body. Before she knew it, her own breathing slowed and her limbs grew impossibly heavy.

Dmitri mumbled something in his native tongue, but the words were too muddled for her to decipher. Still, the tone sounded soothing to her ears. As the fog of sleep blanketed her mind, she could have sworn he pressed a kiss against her hair.

 

Fuck. Not again.

When Dmitri woke up early the next morning, he was confronted with the sight of Gwen lying beside him and a painful case of morning wood.

He craned his neck to check her over and was relieved to find no visible wounds on her body. If nothing else, at least he wouldn’t have to deal with a second round of guilt.

The erection, however, was an entirely different matter. It had been way too long since he’d last gotten laid if the feel of her body affected him this strongly. Math failed to dull the ache this time around, so instead he thought about his wife’s betrayal.

Oh, yeah, that did the trick. He shuddered as the memories flooded his brain. To this day, he didn’t know the exact location of the complex that had served as his prison. Didn’t know how many people worked there, or under whose authority he’d been held. He only knew the questions. The torture. Being caged like an animal inside a room with bright lights and no windows for so long he lost track of the days.

If not for Gwen, he wouldn’t have been there in the first place.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. To be fair, Elena had played a much larger role in his capture. The Americans had been unaware of his identity until the day his wife turned traitor. He’d been nothing more than rumor and innuendo, a shadow his enemies both feared and reviled. That changed the day she contacted those enemies and offered him up in exchange for asylum.

And to think he’d been stupid enough to love her. Never again would he be so foolish.

He shook off the memories and glanced down at Gwen. In the early-morning light she looked soft and delicate. But he knew better. Beneath the beautiful exterior lurked the heart of a predator. In many ways, they were a lot alike. Same ruthless nature and love of country. Their relationship could have been so very different, had they not come from opposite sides of the Cold War.

“Gwen,” he said as he gave her shoulder a shake.

She mumbled in her sleep and snuggled against him, a ghost of a smile warming her mouth. Her fingers brushed the hairs on his chest, sparking a need so fierce it sent shock waves rippling through his body.

“Gwen, wake up.” He forced the words out more harshly this time, and when he gave her another shake, her eyes fluttered open.

“Huh?” For a few moments, she appeared groggy and disoriented. But as the sleep drifted from her eyes, she became aware of her surroundings, and her muscles jerked as if surprised.

“I assume I had another nightmare?” he asked when her gaze drifted up to his.

She nodded, held a hand over her mouth while she yawned. “It sounded like the same one you had before.”

Dmitri inwardly groaned. Showing weakness to an enemy invited disaster and railed against all of his training. But for the first time he wondered if Gwen was truly his enemy any longer. They both worked for Fate, and both hoped to earn their salvation. And while he wasn’t prepared to welcome her friendship, perhaps it was time to set aside their hostilities.

“How long was I held in the Pit?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Gwen shot him a wary look. “Are you sure you want to go down this road?”

“Yes.” In order to put the past behind him, he needed to know all of the details.

She rolled onto her back and rubbed her eyes. “Thirty-seven days. If it makes you feel better, you broke the record. No one else lasted that long without cracking.”

Part of him actually took pride in the knowledge. If not for his escape-turned-suicide mission, he would have lasted even longer. “My capture must have benefited your career greatly.”

“Yeah, right.” Her laughter sounded harsh and bitter. “Williams took the credit. To the brass, I was just the bimbo who drugged your wine.”

What? That didn’t make sense. “But you were present for most of my interrogations.”

Gwen made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “Williams allowed me to attend because he needed a translator, and there wasn’t anybody else on-site fluent in Russian. Believe me, it wasn’t a mark of distinction.”

Her answer surprised him. All this time, he’d assumed he was just another notch in her quest for power. If not for advancement of her own ambitions, why did she sit through so many sessions?

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked.

“Enjoy what, watching you get tortured?” She glared at him as if he were crazy.

“You never looked away.”

“It was my job.”

Judging by the way she refused to meet his gaze, he could tell she wasn’t telling him the whole truth. He remembered the way she’d acted. No matter what happened, her face had remained blank, like a good soldier doing her duty. At the time, he’d thought she was just playing a role, but now he wasn’t convinced. “You said Williams allowed it. That implies you could have left.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So why didn’t you?”

Her eyes tightened. “Because I wanted to be there when you broke.”

“Afraid he would take all the credit again?”

“I didn’t want that kind of credit,” she snapped.

“Why not?”

“Because . . .” Her voice trailed off as she twisted her head toward the bathroom door. “Never mind.”

Gently, he skimmed a hand along the side of her face and turned her head back toward him. “Why not?”

“It’s not important.”

“It is to me.”

When she tried to get up, he pushed her back against the mattress. A burst of anger flashed over her, and for a second he thought she might strike him. Or at least, she might try. For the answer, he was willing to take the chance.

His voice dropped low, like a horse trainer gentling a skittish filly. Interrogation had never been his strongest suit, but he was willing to bet soft techniques would work better with her than coercion. “Answer the question, Gwenya. Why didn’t you want the credit for extracting information from me? The things I knew would have made your career.”

Time lingered as she peered up at him, her expression purposefully blank. On the outside, she appeared cool and aloof, but the pulse beat wildly at her throat. And for some strange reason that defied all logic, he felt the urge to press his lips against it.

Her throat bobbed when she swallowed. “Because it was wrong, what he did to you. Williams knew it, but he just didn’t give a damn. All he ever cared about was finding your breaking point.”

“Then why didn’t you stop him?” He leaned closer, and her breath tickled the hairs on his chest.

“Like I could.” Frustration threaded her voice. “It was 1962, Dmitri. Do you honestly think a woman had that kind of pull?”

“If you’d put your mind to it, yes.”

She rolled her eyes. “You put way too much faith in my abilities.”

“And you put way too little faith in them.” He propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at her. “If you’d been in charge, what would you have done differently?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me.” When he inhaled her scent, his blood began to simmer. “How would you have made me talk,
zaika
?”

Her lips pursed. “I really hate that name.”

“I know. That’s why I keep using it. Now answer the question before I use it again.”

His fingers traced a line up the length of her arm, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. She shivered as she licked her lips, and every muscle in his body tightened. The punch of attraction took him by surprise—hard, and fast, and completely unwanted. It felt so wrong on so many levels, but at the moment he just didn’t care. Desire sparked in his blood; his mind clouded with the need to lean a little bit closer, to see if her lips tasted as good as they looked....

“I would have used Elena,” Gwen blurted out, and the words were like ice water over his libido. Eyes wide, she rubbed her arms with her hands. “She’d said she was willing to talk to you, but Williams refused to allow it.”

“What a pity,” Dmitri said, his tone tightly clipped. With considerable effort, he kept his hands from balling into fists. “I would have relished the opportunity to strangle the life from her body.”

Gwen’s jaw dropped open. “But she loved you. She wanted a future for you both, here in the States.”

The very idea flooded him with bitterness. “Yeah, right. If she loved me that much, she would have talked to me before committing treason.”

“She was scared. She—she had her reasons.”

“Like what?”

Gwen shook her head, her lips pressed so tightly together they turned white. “I can’t. She swore me to secrecy.”

“She’s probably dead by now.”

“Then her secret died along with her.”

Stubborn woman. He should have expected as much. “Then we have nothing further to discuss.” He rolled out of bed and grabbed his bag. Without so much as a backward glance, he stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

F
resh from the shower, Dmitri was tucking his shirt into his jeans when he heard a loud rumble outside.

He crossed the room and pulled back the curtain in time to see a large black pickup with dual wheels on the rear axle stop in front of their building. A heavy steel bumper protected the grill, making it look like something out of a Mad Max movie. After backing into the space beside Dmitri’s Challenger, the truck’s engine cut off and Adam Javorski stepped out of the cab, bleary-eyed, unshaven, and looking thoroughly put out. With a yawn, he dragged a hand through his close-cropped, dark brown hair. He hooked his sunglasses to the collar of his T-shirt as he strode toward the building.

“About time you got here,” Dmitri said when he opened the door. “Did you bring my bag?”

“It’s in the storage box.” With a scowl, Adam brushed past Dmitri and stepped inside the room. Even though he’d been a reaper for a little more than two years, Adam was one of the most reliable members of Dmitri’s unit. Regardless of the situation, he kept his shit together and always got the job done. It almost made up for the attitude. “You mind telling me why I had to drop everything and drive nonstop to Bum Fuck, Virginia—”

The words died on his lips when he caught sight of Gwen, barefoot, hair tousled, and still wearing the short shorts and clingy tank top she’d slept in.

“Hi, you must be Adam.” She rose from sitting at the foot of the bed and walked toward him with her arm outstretched. “I’m Gwen.”

Adam accepted the hand she offered, a lazy grin splitting his face. “Pleased to meet you. If I’d known the boss had company, I would have stopped to pick up breakfast.”

“Oh, Christ,” Dmitri grumbled. “You’re here to do a job, not fraternize.”

“Don’t mind him,” Gwen said. “He’s cranky in the morning.”

“He’s cranky all the time.”

“I am
not
cranky.”

Adam snorted. “Dude, cranky is your middle name.”

“Actually,” Gwen said, “his middle name is Alexandrovich.”

Dmitri’s face flushed with heat.

“Really? Is that true?” Adam’s head whipped in Gwen’s direction. “How do you know that?”

She flashed him a toothy smile. “I know lots of things.”

Now Adam appeared outright intrigued. “What else do you know about Mr. Cranky?”

“Nothing important,” Dmitri ground out, his patience fraying.

“If she knows your middle name,
Dmitri Alexandrovich
, she damn well knows something important.” His gaze flicked back to Gwen. “Come on, just a little something I can share with the group back home. He never tells us anything personal. I’ve got cash.”

“You’ll be missing teeth if you keep it up,” Dmitri growled.

Adam opened his mouth as if to speak but closed it without saying anything.

“Thank you.” Dmitri bit the words out.

“Can you at least explain why I’m here?”

Gladly, so long as it changed the subject. “I need you to take my car back to Orlando. There’s a reaper in the trunk by the name of Tommy Cooper. He’s dangerous, so make sure he remains tied and gagged at all times. Tag Martin or Ruby if you need help. Keep him on ice at my place until I call. If you don’t hear from me in three days’ time, call David and tell him what happened. He’ll know what to do.”

He hated the idea of anyone else driving his car, but the truck bed didn’t have any kind of cover and couldn’t be used to transport Cooper. As long as the kid didn’t get pulled over for the broken taillight or for speeding, he’d make it back to Florida in the car without incident.

A shadow fell over Adam’s face. He was a damn good reaper, but the former cop in him disliked committing felonies in the name of his new calling. “And why am I doing all this?”

“Long story.”

Adam turned to Gwen.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” she said. “Samuel wants this kept quiet. The less you know, the more soundly you’ll sleep.”

“Great.” Adam jammed his hands in his pockets. “Is there gas in the car?”

“Full tank.” He’d topped it off the night before.

“Well, at least there’s that. Do I get breakfast before I leave? I’m starving.”

Dmitri said, “No,” at the same time Gwen said, “Sure.”

“Oh come on,” she said to Dmitri. “The poor guy just drove twelve hours straight. He needs to eat before he gets back on the road.”

Dmitri glared at Adam. Adam grinned right back at him. “Fine,” Dmitri grumbled. “I’ll buy you something to eat.”

“Buford too. It’s way past his feeding time.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“You brought the mutt?”

“What was I supposed to do with him? Ruby was working a job last night, and no one else was willing to dog-sit.”

Shit. That meant the fleabag would be shedding and drooling all over his upholstery. “Fine, the dog can eat too.”

“Sweet!” Adam opened the door and whistled, and the enormous pit bull mix leaped through the open passenger side window of the truck. The dog christened the bushes before barreling into the room, where he made a beeline for Gwen.

She yelped when the sack of fur and fleas shoved his nose in her crotch. Dmitri smiled. Served her right for agreeing to feed Adam and the mutt.

“Nice dog,” she said as she pushed Buford’s big square head away. Undeterred, the dog made a second attempt, but she blocked him with her knee. “Why don’t I take a quick shower while you two catch up?” She grabbed her duffel bag, retreated into the bathroom, and closed the door behind her.

“She’s hot,” Adam said after the shower cut on. His gaze roamed about the room before settling on the rumpled bed. “Sorry to interrupt your fun.”

Dmitri stiffened. “We’re working a job together. Nothing more.”

“You’re sharing a room, and you never thought about tapping that? Not even once?” Adam laughed as he leaned down to give Buford a pat. The dog rubbed his head against Adam’s jeans, leaving a trail of slobber behind. “Either you’re lying through your fucking teeth, or you’ve officially lost your mind.”

“Think what you want. Our relationship is . . . complicated. And strictly professional.”

“Definitely out of your mind.” Adam shook his head in obvious disbelief.

Dmitri flexed his hands and counted to ten. He wasn’t in the mood to put up with this shit, not from his subordinate and especially not this early in the morning. “Drop it.”

“Fine, fine. Have it your way.” Adam rolled his eyes as he dug his keys from his pocket and tossed them to Dmitri. “Why don’t you get us some breakfast, and then we’ll talk about whatever the hell you want, okay?”

 

Five minutes later, Gwen shut off the water in the shower. Quickly, she toweled her body dry, slipped on jeans and a forest green T-shirt, and stepped out of the bathroom.

Dmitri wasn’t anywhere in sight. Adam was sitting on the floor in front of the television, speed-flipping channels with the remote. He had the long, lean build of a guy who either ran or played a lot of basketball. His hair and lashes were as dark as his eyes and framed a boyishly handsome face. The dog lay stretched out by his side, a puddle of drool soaking the carpet.

“The big guy’s out getting breakfast,” Adam said, his focus never leaving the television. “He should be back in a few.”

“Sounds good.” She brushed her hair, brushed her teeth, and then sat on the edge of the bed to put on her socks and shoes.

It was a relief to have a few more minutes to collect her thoughts before Dmitri returned. Talking about what happened at the Pit was hard enough under normal circumstances. But to talk about it in bed? With him lying beside her? Surreal.

Even more unnerving was the look on his face, the heat in his eyes, and the deep, husky resonance in his voice. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear he’d been thinking about kissing her. But what freaked her out the most was that a part of her wished he had.

She’d lied to him about her reasons for attending the interrogations. The first time she watched Williams work Dmitri over, she’d nearly gotten physically ill. To this day, she couldn’t fathom how one human being could inflict such torment on another. She’d talked to Williams about the level of brutality, but the bastard just laughed at her and called her naïve. And since Williams played poker with General Richter every Friday, she knew it was pointless to complain. So instead she did the only thing within her power; she paid penance by bearing witness to his suffering.

“So how long have you two known each other?” Adam asked, breaking her train of thought.

Gwen hesitated, not sure how much she should tell him. “We’ve known each other for a while, but it’s been a long time since we last worked together.”

“How long is a while?”

“A little over fifty years.”

Adam’s eyes popped wide. “No shit?”

“No shit.”

He let out a low whistle. “Were you two ever an item?”

The very idea made her pulse jump. “You haven’t been a reaper for very long, have you?”

“Two years, one month, and fourteen days. Why, does it show?”

She nodded. “Dmitri and I are about as far from an item as two people can possibly get.”

His dark brows wrinkled. “How so?”

She considered skirting the issue, but what was the point? Their history wasn’t exactly a secret among their kind, and if he asked around, someone would eventually fill in the blanks. “I’ll tell you, but only if you promise not to say anything to Dmitri about it until this job is over and I’m long gone. Deal?”

“I promise. Scout’s honor.”

“Were you ever a scout?”

“No, but I used to be a cop.” He grinned. “Close enough?”

She couldn’t help but smile. The kid’s carefree attitude was infectious. “Yeah, that’ll work.” Finished with her shoes, she bent down to pet Buford, and the dog’s stubby tail wriggled with delight. “How much do you know about Dmitri’s mortal life?”

“Not much. My mentor said he played James Bond for the Soviets.”

“Your mentor was right. And I played Bond for the Americans.”

Adam shot her a skeptical look. “Now you’re just screwing with me.”

She got that reaction a lot, probably because she wasn’t tall, or glamorous, or built like a Bond girl. But being a good agent meant more than just looks, and her ability to blend had been an integral part of what made her successful.

Gwen drew an
X
over her chest with her finger. “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m telling you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

The oath seemed to convince him, because now he looked a little impressed. “So the two of you were enemies?”

“We were, are, and probably will be until the day we’ve redeemed our souls.” That never used to bother her before, but now it tugged at something deep inside.

Adam twisted his torso toward her and propped one arm against the edge of the bed. With his free hand, he scratched Buford’s belly, and the dog’s hind leg thumped against the carpet. “Don’t you think it’s time to bury the hatchet? The Cold War ended a long time ago. Besides, you’re working on the same team now.”

“True, but some wounds are too deep to heal.”
And some sins are too heinous to be forgiven.

“Like what?”

Gwen shook her head as she pushed back against the flood of memories. “Sorry, not going there.” Stomach rumbling, she walked to the window, pulled back the curtain, and peered out at the lot. Still no sign of Dmitri. What was taking him so long? She’d burned a lot of calories recovering from last night’s gunshot wound, leaving her absolutely famished. If he didn’t come back soon, she’d hit the vending machine down the hall. “Ask him if you really want to know, but not while I’m around.”

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“Wanna bet?” She folded her arms across her chest and met his curious gaze. “Tell me, do you enjoy sharing the details of your own death?”

He didn’t answer, but his expression sobered.

“I didn’t think so. Same goes here.”

The heavy rumble of a truck’s engine cut short their conversation. Gwen opened the door and watched Dmitri steer the big black pickup into a parking spot in front of their room. The engine shut off, and he got out of the cab carrying two large plastic bags and a tray filled with coffee cups.

Her stomach fluttered, and she told herself it was because she was famished. Turning back to Adam, she gave him her best don’t-mess-with-me look. “Remember what I told you. Not a word until this is all over.”

 

Adam drove away in the Challenger a little after nine, leaving Gwen and Dmitri free to plan their next move.

“Think he’ll be okay with Cooper?” Gwen asked as she climbed into the passenger side of the pickup. The outside of the truck was filthy with road grime, and the inside wasn’t much better. Dog drool covered the passenger side window, while the seats were coated in hair. Shifting in her seat, she fastened her seat belt and pulled down the visor to block the glare of the morning sun.

“He’s a professional,” Dmitri snarled. “He’ll do what needs to be done.” With a turn of the key, the truck roared to life, and he peeled out onto the main road.

He’d been surly all morning, more so than usual. Part of it was because it damn near killed him to switch vehicles with Adam. But she suspected it also had something to do with their earlier discussion. In all honesty, it had left her edgy as well. She hated talking about her own death, especially with the man who’d caused it.

The difference was that she’d never blamed him. How could she? He’d been trained to kill and was one of the most lethal KGB agents of his time. His actions were merely an extension of his nature. It would be like holding a grudge against a lion for killing a zebra.

Besides, her own actions had been within her nature as well. Coughing up blood, she’d crawled across the tiles until she reached Jimmy Hanson’s dead body. With the last of her strength she’d picked up his revolver, aimed, and fired at Dmitri. Triumph had filled her when the bullet hit its target, and she watched him fall to the floor.