In His Shadow (Tangled Ivy Book 1) (30 page)

“Please? I’ll fall asleep if I don’t walk off some of this rich food,” I said. “Plus, I want to see the lights.”

Devon gave in and I clung to his arm, his hand covering mine as we walked. There was a huge Christmas tree in sight and I marveled at the elegant buildings stretched above us with their balconies etched in snow. I sighed, utterly happy and content.

“Have you enjoyed today?” Devon asked.

I looked up at him and smiled. “You have to ask?” I teased.

His smile was soft. “I know you like the clothes, that goes without saying. I was wondering, and hoping, actually, that you . . . enjoyed the company as well.”

Devon’s British circumspection made my heart ache. I stopped walking, pulling him to a halt, too.

“I don’t care about the clothes,” I said. Devon raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I do, but they don’t matter. Not really. I’m just happy to be with you. Please don’t doubt that.”

Devon’s face was serious now. “In spite of what I’ve brought down on you? The pain you’ve had to endure because of me?”

“You’re worth it,” I said with a shrug.

Devon studied me, his gaze intent, and I didn’t look away. After a moment, he leaned down, his lips brushing against mine with the tenderness of an angel’s wing.

And I couldn’t have dreamt of a more perfect moment, place, or person as the lights of Paris twinkled in the night and Devon’s arms wrapped around my waist to pull me closer.

Cheerful bright light streamed through the window when I woke on Christmas Eve morning. I stretched my arms over my head, then pulled the sheet up to cover me from where it had fallen to my waist.

“And here I was enjoying the view.”

I turned to see Devon sitting by the window, reading the paper and drinking a cup of tea. He’d put on a robe, but I was still naked.

“Good morning,” I said with a smile. “What time is it?”

“Late,” he said, putting down the paper. “You’ve been lying about all morning, you lazy wench.” Getting up, he sat beside me on the bed, tugging the sheet down to bare my breasts.

“It’s your fault,” I said. “You kept me up too late.”

He was kissing my breasts now, his hands curved around my ribs. “Are you saying you didn’t enjoy the entertainment?”

I buried my fingers in his hair, the slow rasp of his tongue against my nipple making me sigh in pleasure. “Are you talking about the opera or afterwards?” We’d made love twice last night, once when we’d returned to the hotel and Devon had peeled the princess dress from me, and again in the wee hours of the morning when I’d woken on the brink of an orgasm to find his head between my legs.

“Both.”

“You have to ask?”

He laughed deep in his throat before moving from my breasts to my mouth. I quickly turned away. “Not until I brush my teeth,” I insisted.

“As if I care,” he said, but acquiesced, kissing the tender skin underneath my jaw instead.

I giggled and pushed him away, escaping from the bed and his clutches. Naked, I walked to the bathroom, glancing over my shoulder to see his eyes devouring me.

When I emerged from the shower, I was toweling my hair dry, but stopped short at what lay sitting out. Devon had unpacked, and the leather journal I’d stolen sat on the antique coffee table in the sitting room; the pendant Galler had given me was lying on top of it. It was the first time I’d seen him with both items since the day I’d given him the journal.

“Did you find someone to translate the coded pages?” I asked.

Devon glanced up from the newspaper he was reading. “I did.”

“What did they say?”

He hesitated, then said, “It’s the instructions for formulating the vaccine.”

My heart stuttered. “Why did you bring it here if you’re not on the case anymore?” I asked him, striving for nonchalance. I took a croissant and café au lait from the tray that room service had delivered. The croissant was pristine on a beautiful china plate that was so delicate it was slightly translucent.

Devon took another drink of his coffee, surveying me across the top of the cup. “I have to dead drop it,” he explained. “They’ll need it.”

“They?”

“The people I work for,” he said.

“The Shadow?” I asked around a bite of croissant, recalling what Heinrich had said.

Devon was suddenly right next to me, his hand closing none-too-gently on my arm. I let out a squeak of surprise.

“Don’t ever say those words,” he hissed.

My eyes were wide at the urgency in his voice, and if that hadn’t convinced me, the deadly earnestness of his expression would have.

“If they find out you know that name, they’ll kill you,” he continued.

I swallowed the lump of croissant, the flaky pastry now tasting like dust in my mouth. I couldn’t think what to say, so I just nodded. Devon gazed intently in my eyes, as though ascertaining that I understood the seriousness of what he’d said. At last, he gave a curt nod and let me go.

“I’m going to shower,” he said easily, as though nothing had just happened. “Then we’ll see what shops are open in Paris on Christmas Eve. I don’t think we bought you nearly enough shoes yesterday to go with all those clothes.”

I managed a weak smile and hugged him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “That sounds wonderful,” I said. “But kiss me first.”

Devon gave me a chaste kiss on the lips, but I pressed against him, curving my hand around the back of his neck and holding him close when he would have pulled away. I traced the curve of his lower lip with my tongue until he took the hint and gave me a real kiss that I felt all the way to my toes. I memorized the taste and texture of him, the feel of his body, the scent of his skin faintly tinged with his cologne. Finally, we parted.

“Any more of that and your shoes will be delayed,” he gently teased me, rubbing his nose alongside mine.

“Sorry,” I apologized. “Save it for later, right?”

“We’ll make it the quickest shoe shopping in Paris history.”

I forced a laugh at his joke, then watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, my smile fading once he closed the door.

Now I had to betray the man I loved.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

I
dressed in record time, throwing on skinny jeans, a long black sweater, and my black boots. I grabbed my purse, slipping the journal and pendant inside as I heard the shower start from behind the bathroom’s closed door. Shrugging on my coat, I cast one last eye toward the bathroom, wishing desperately that things could be different. But wishing was for children, and I’d stopped being a child a long time ago.

While I walked down the hallway, I dialed the number I’d memorized. When it was picked up, I said, “I have it.” The voice on the other end gave me instructions and I ended the call. A moment later, I was riding down the elevator.

Flipping to the back of the journal, I didn’t hesitate before tearing out all the pages Devon had said were written in code. I had to do what I had to do, but I wasn’t about to be responsible for helping unleash an incurable virus on an unsuspecting populace.

Going to the front desk, I took out the card Agent Lane had given me, handing it and the pages to the man behind the marble counter.

“I need these papers to get to this man, just as soon as possible. Can you do that for me?”

“
Oui, mademoiselle
,” the man said, taking the papers. “I will see that it is done.”

I thanked him, then hurried outside. The air was crisp and cold, everything covered in a carpet of white from snow that had fallen overnight. I took a long look around, taking everything in while I waited at the curb a short way from the hotel.

It didn’t take long, perhaps two minutes, before a shiny black sedan pulled up. The back door opened, but no one emerged. The car was for me.

Taking a deep breath, I headed for the car. I’d put one foot inside when I heard a commotion and turned back.

It was Devon. He’d emerged from the hotel and was frantically glancing left, then right. He spotted me, and the look on his face made fear spike hard in my veins. Pure rage shone from his eyes, his lips twisted in a growl. I froze in terror. Then the moment was over and he was running flat out toward me.

I dived inside the car and pulled the door shut behind me as the driver stepped on the gas. Devon made a grab for the handle, missing by inches. I twisted in the seat to stare out the rear window where he stood, watching the car drive away.

“Cutting it a bit close, aren’t you, my dear?”

I turned to the man sitting beside me in the backseat.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Heinrich just smiled. “Let’s have it then,” he ordered.

I swallowed and dug in my purse, unearthing the journal and the pendant. “Are you going to keep your side of the deal?” I asked, handing the items to him.

He didn’t even glance at me, his fingers thumbing through the journal, pausing in several spots to study it. “You’d be unwise to question me,” he said mildly.

“I did what you said,” I reminded him, something close to panic rising to engulf the regret that threatened to drown me. “Despite the fact that you nearly killed me with the virus.”

“Yes, you’ve been very useful,” Heinrich said, closing the journal and fixing me with a calculated look. “Infecting you was an experiment. And since you’re still alive, that means it worked.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “We made a deal. You let him live, I deliver the journal and pendant.”

“And that’s been done,” he said with a smile that sent a chill through me. “But you’re living proof that Devon has the vaccine.”

My face paled. I remembered the man who’d given me an injection and taken my blood when I’d been so sick. Was Heinrich right? At the time, Devon had said I hadn’t died because I wasn’t exposed long enough, but had that been a lie? Had Devon cured me, then lied to me about it?

I opened my mouth to ask more questions, but the driver interrupted.

“Sir, we’re being followed.”

Both Heinrich and I turned to look out the back window and my heart leapt to my throat.

Devon was chasing us on a motorcycle.

“Oh my God . . .” I breathed.

Heinrich laughed. “Mr. Clay is rather determined. Lose him.”

The car put on a burst of speed, pushing me back against the seat. We weaved through traffic, breaking, I was sure, at least a hundred traffic laws. I held my breath, certain at any moment we were going to wreck.

I craned my neck to look for Devon, who was managing to keep up with us. I was terrified he was going to crash. He didn’t even have a helmet on.

The car fishtailed around a corner, throwing me against the door, then we were going down into a tunnel and I lost sight of Devon. We emerged going so fast that the car hit the top of the ramp and was briefly airborne. My teeth clacked hard together as I was tossed around again in the backseat.

“He’s still behind us, sir,” the driver said.

“I’ll take care of this.” Heinrich reached inside his jacket and pulled out a handgun. He rolled down the window on his side and leaned out.

I watched in horror as he took aim at Devon, now only three or four car lengths behind us, who showed no sign that he saw the impending threat. Or if he did, he was too angry to care. Instead, his speed increased.

I threw myself at Heinrich just as he pulled the trigger. The shot ricocheted off a nearby car, making the vehicle swerve into the path of his motorcycle. Devon jerked the bike to the side and I saw him go flying, then we were out of sight.

“You stupid bitch,” Heinrich seethed at me. “I nearly had him. Don’t interfere again.”

He drew back his arm, then slammed the butt of the gun against the side of my head. A searing pain went through me, then everything went black.

“Please, I’ll do whatever you want,” I begged. “Please.” But I had no idea what they wanted from me. They hadn’t asked me a single question. All they wanted from me was my pain.

“Enough, gentlemen,” a new voice said.

I heard another yell from Devon and it made me want to die. He was being hurt, I’m sure worse than me, tortured just steps away. And I could do nothing. My very presence had put him in this situation. It was a very real possibility that neither of us would survive the night.

The hand holding me up disappeared and I folded limply to the floor. Staring up, I saw a man I hadn’t seen before. He was dressed expensively and was smoking a cigarette.

“Please,” I managed to croak. “Please don’t hurt him anymore.” Just talking made pain ricochet through me and I swallowed on a dry throat.

“Devon Clay, you mean,” he replied before taking a long drag.

I gave a fractional nod and forced my lips to move again. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just please, don’t kill him.”

Another muffled yell from across the hall that I felt down to my bones.

“Will you?” the man asked, eyeing me. “Will you really?”

I tried to take a deep breath, but it sent a stabbing pain through my chest. “Anything.”

The man sat down, casually crossing one knee over the other. He took another drag on his cigarette, then stubbed it out on the arm of the leather sofa.

“Mr. Clay has something I want,” he said. “It seems we’re getting nowhere in our efforts to . . . persuade him to give it to me. I imagine he won’t walk away from tonight unscathed, if he walks away at all.”

I made a noise of distress at this, the pain at the thought of Devon dying more acute than any of the physical trauma I’d suffered.

He fixed me with a calculating look. “However, I will agree to let both of you go, if you bring me what I want.”

My heart leapt even as a sense of dread formed like a rock in my stomach. “What do you want?”

“Mr. Galler had a journal he kept that was his father’s. I’ve seen it. There’s an insignia on the front that matches a pendant he carried. Do you know either of these items?”

“He gave me the pendant,” I rasped.

The man smiled. “Excellent. The pendant is key to unlocking part of a code in that journal. Do you have the journal?”

“No.”

“Know where he kept it?”

“No.”

He made a sympathetic noise. “That’s too bad.” Looking up at one of the men in the room, he said, “Tell them to break both his legs.”

“No!” I yelled, trying to scramble off the floor despite my injuries. The guy nearest me shoved me back down with one booted foot, then stood on my arm to hold me in place. I grimaced at the pain, turning to the man who was obviously in charge. “I’ll get it,” I managed to gasp. “I’ll get it and you can have them both. Just please, let him go.”

He held up a hand, halting the guy who was leaving to do his bidding. I let out a breath in relief.

“You swear to me?” he asked.

“I swear. I’ll get it.”

Bracing his elbows on his knees, the man leaned down toward me.

“If you don’t,” he said, “I won’t just kill him. I’ll make him suffer an agonizing death. And you will watch him die. Have I made myself clear?”

I nodded. My arm was numb now, but I’d disassociated myself from the pain, as I’d done so many times before. It was like it was happening to someone else, as though I were a bystander.

The man studied me intently, as though ascertaining for himself that I understood he meant what he said, then he smiled. “Memorize this,” he said, then recited a telephone number. I had to say it several times before he was satisfied. “When you have the items, call that number.”

He got to his feet, adjusting his suit jacket and buttoning it. “Keep in mind,” he said. “We’ll be watching. Any hint that you’ve told Clay about this conversation or are attempting to double-cross me, and I’ll know.” He headed for the door.

“Wait,” I said, and he stopped to glance back at me. “Who are you?”

“You may call me Heinrich,” he said, then turned to the men still in the room. “Make it look good, gentlemen, but no permanent damage.” The door closed behind him.

The men were good at their job and I barely remembered the hits I’d taken after that until I’d lost consciousness. But the number . . . the number I didn’t forget.

Pain. That was my first thought when consciousness came. My head was killing me.

I groaned and sat up, my hand going to my head, coming away sticky with blood that matted my hair and had dried on my cheek.

Looking around, I saw I was in a small room lying on a cot. An opaque window was on one wall, whereas the other walls were all solid with no decoration of any sort. There was no way for me to tell what hour of the day it was or how much time had passed.

I already knew before I checked the door that it would be locked, but I tried anyway before returning to sit on the cot. Even the short walk to the door had made me light-headed.

I had no idea what I was supposed to do now or what was going to happen to me.

I thought about the deal I’d made with Heinrich. At the time, I’d have done anything to save Devon’s life, not realizing until later that doing so would mean betraying him in the end. But he was alive, and that fact alone kept the regret at bay. If I was faced with the choice again, I’d do the same thing.