Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2) (36 page)

I was shaking with rage. “How dare you?” I spat at him. “I’m not enough for you. You end us. Then you show up here, months later, because you
forgot
something?”

Devon raised a hand to his jaw, rubbing it slightly.

“I was referring to you,” he said. “I came for you. I was . . . quite wrong.”

“About what?” I was afraid to hope. He’d disappointed me before.

“About whether or not I want to live without you.”

My eyes filled and he blurred in my vision. “What changed your mind?” I asked.

“A particularly lethal knife fight. And as it happens, your face was the one that came to mind. The one I wanted to see one more time. Nothing quite puts things in proper perspective than a brush with death.”

“But you said you’ve nearly died lots of times,” I said. “What made this time any different?”

“You made this time different.” Devon took my face in his hands.
“I love you, my sweet Ivy. And I’ll do whatever I need to do in order to keep you in my life.”

“Is this real?” I whispered.

“It’s very, very real.”

It felt almost like slow motion when he kissed me; the contours of his lips and the touch of his skin against mine felt like coming home.

“I can smell his cologne on you,” Devon murmured, his lips moving against mine.

I pulled back slightly. “What?”

“Tonight. The date with the FBI agent. I was watching. I thought I was going to have to kill the bastard if he managed to get an invitation inside for a nightcap.”

“Scott is a good friend of mine,” I said. “He’s . . . helped me.”

“I’ll bet he has.”

I could hear the resentful anger in Devon’s voice and it made me step back, out of his embrace.

“I don’t know, Devon,” I said. “How do I know you won’t change your mind again? You were so sure before, and now you’ve done a one-eighty. What else has changed? Is it safe now?”

“It will be,” he said. “I’m putting plans in motion now so we’ll not be watching our backs for the rest of our lives.”

“What about the rest?” I asked, still worried. I was afraid. It couldn’t be as easy as he was making it sound.

“Trust me,” he said. “You were right. I’ve given enough, especially to Vega.”

It wasn’t just the words, but the way he said them—as though Vega was no longer held in his highest esteem—that convinced me.

“Okay,” I said, finally allowing myself to believe. Maybe a happily-ever-after was in the cards for us after all. “Okay, so what’s next?”

“I can’t stay, darling,” he said. “I have to leave, right away, but I’ll be back. I’ll be back and we’ll go away together. A new start on a new life. Together.”

He kissed me again, before I could respond, overwhelming me in every way. The heat of his mouth, the firm hold he had on either side of my head, his body hard against mine.

I was breathless when he finally let me go.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night,” he whispered. “Wait up for me.”

And then he was gone. I was left staring at the door, wondering if I’d just imagined all that. Had Devon really come back, told me he loved me, and that he wanted to be with me?

It was amazing. Unbelievable.

Joy spread through me like warm rays of sunshine. I wanted to dance around the apartment, but instead I headed to my bedroom to pack.

I wished Devon could have stayed, but I wasn’t about to begrudge him needing to leave tonight. I wanted so badly to call someone and share my happiness, but I knew none of my friends would be glad of Devon’s reappearance in my life.

Especially Scott.

I felt a twinge of guilt at that, but what was I to do?

Sleep was difficult, and I found myself awakening again in the middle of the night, my mind spinning.

What would happen when Devon came back? He’d said we’d be leaving. Where would we go? What would we do? What kind of job would he get if he quit working for the Shadow?

These questions and dozens more ran through my head until finally, I got up and went to the kitchen for something to drink. Maybe a glass of wine would help me sleep.

I was reaching for the cupboard when I heard something strange.

I paused, frowning as I listened. I heard it again. The rustle of cloth and the slight tread of a shoe against the hardwood floor in the hallway.

Someone was in the apartment.

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

I
moved silently, reaching for the butcher block on the counter and sliding a knife from one of the slots. If I could make it to the door, I could get out and run for help.

Fear was a sharp tang in my mouth and adrenaline poured ice in my veins. I didn’t move for a moment, listening. The darkness intensified my other senses, but I heard nothing further.

Sliding along the edge of the counter, I crept toward the hallway. If whoever had broken in had already passed the kitchen entrance, I’d be behind them and could scurry down the hall and out the door.

I stood with my back to the wall, breathing as quietly as I could and listening. My pulse was thundering in my ears as I took a deep breath, readying myself. Deciding it was now or never, I stepped into the hallway . . . and right into the path of the intruder.

“Hello, Ivy. Miss me?”

I stared in stunned horror at Clive.

“No,” I said, shaking my head in denial. “No, no. That’s impossible. You’re dead.”

“I’m afraid I’m very much alive,” he said, taking a step toward me. I took a jerky step back. “No thanks to you and Devon, of course. Lucky for me, Kansas farmers are so helpful to an injured hunter. It’s taken me weeks to recuperate, but I’m ever so glad I didn’t kill you before, because I need you now.”

Confusion warred with panic. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course you don’t,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter. You’re coming with me.”

“The hell I am,” I snapped, tightening my grip on the knife in my hand. I lunged, my only advantage that of surprise.

But he was fast, faster than I’d thought he’d be. I sliced him across the chest, but not deep enough to do damage. Then he had my wrist and twisted it in such a way that I had no choice but to release the knife with a pained cry.

“Look at you, drawing blood,” Clive bit out.

“Anna would have fought you, too,” I retorted. At the mention of his dead wife, Clive flinched. “She would have hated what you’ve become, what you’re doing to me.”

His hesitation gave me another instant and I brought my knee up hard, getting him right in the crotch.

Clive let go of me instantly as he dropped to the floor. His body blocked the hallway. I wasted no time scrambling over him. The door was open and it loomed like a beacon for me.

I’d made it two steps when Clive grabbed my ankle and gave it a vicious yank. I fell hard and kicked backward, trying to get away. I made contact with something, because I heard a crunch and a grunt, but he wouldn’t let me go. He was pulling me backward, climbing on top of me as I clawed at the carpet, desperate to get away.

Opening my mouth, I drew in a ragged breath and let loose a scream. Surely someone would hear and call the police. I prayed Beau would come out of his door the way he had so many times before. But his door remained firmly closed.

“Fucking bitch,” I heard Clive mutter. I heard something clatter to the floor, then felt a sharp prick in the back of my neck.

Bright lights. That was the first thing I saw when I woke.

I stared at the ceiling, slowly blinking. The thought that being knocked unconscious and waking in an unfamiliar location was becoming a commonplace event in my life flitted briefly through my mind.

Fluorescent lights, the kind you find in a hospital, adorned the ceiling of flat, white tiles. A persistent, steady beeping sound was emanating from something close to me.

Turning my head was more painful than it should have been, and I winced, but I saw what was making the noise. A heart monitor and blood pressure cuff were attached to my left arm.

I tried lifting my arm and realized I was strapped down. My breath caught and I turned to my right, only to see that arm was likewise restrained. In trying to move my legs, I found my ankles held immobile, too.

I was able to lift my head and look around, hoping I was in a hospital. Maybe someone had heard me scream and come to help. Maybe they’d chased Clive off.

But I wasn’t in a hospital. And I wasn’t alone.

A man in scrubs and a white lab coat stood in the corner, his back to me, messing with something on the counter.

“Hey,” I called to him. “Hey, where am I?”

He glanced back at me, but didn’t answer. After a moment, he went back to what he was doing.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” I tried again. “Where am I?”

The man walked toward me and I thought for a moment he was going to release me, then I saw the needle and vials in his hands.

“Who are you? What are you doing?” I asked, panic edging into my voice as he swabbed my right arm and I smelled the sharp, antiseptic odor of alcohol.

Again, there was no answer. He tied a rubber tourniquet around my arm and readied the needle.

“Stop! Let me go!” I cried, struggling to get loose. Alarm and panic flooded me as he continued to ignore me.

“Will you be still?”

The stern voice made me whip my head around and my stomach sank when I saw who’d entered the room.

Vega.

Fear morphed into fury. “I should have known,” I said, struggling to stay calm. Nothing would be achieved by me losing my cool. Right now, I had to focus on trying to get out of this, preferably alive.

A pinch in my arm made me twist again to see the man was drawing blood from my vein, filling one of the vials he held.

“Your obsession with me is reaching the level of paranoia,” I said to Vega. “My blood? Really? You could have just asked.”

“And deprive Clive of his opportunity at redemption?” she asked. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

“
You
sent him after me?” I asked, confused now. “He tried to kill Devon.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “I’m not very pleased with him for that. Devon is far more useful to me than is Clive, which is too bad. He used to be one of my best agents. Then he met that woman, and it spelled the end of him and his usefulness.”

“You mean Anna,” I said.

Vega shrugged, glancing at the vials the man was filling, one after the other. “Was that her name?” she mused.

I studied her. “You know it was her name. You know Clive fell in love with her.”

“A stipulation of all my agents is the lack of familial ties,” Vega said. “Did you know that? Clive was the only child of a single father who was killed in a car wreck when he was ten. No siblings. No extended family.”

“No one to compete with his loyalty to you when you swooped in to rescue him,” I guessed.

A smile played about her thin lips and her gaze returned to mine. “You’re an astute woman, Ivy. Ties of loyalty and brotherhood link men in the armed forces. A soldier will put his life on the line for the soldier at his side. But in my business, agents are solitary. Loyalty to queen and country is ephemeral and mercurial, subject to change. But loyalty to a person—especially one to whom they feel indebted—that is concrete and not easily dissuaded.”

“You’ve brainwashed them,” I said.

“I saved them,” she retorted. “I gave them a purpose and a focus for their lives.”

The man interrupted our conversation by removing the needle from my arm and undoing the restraint. Reaching over me, he removed the monitor and restraint on my left arm, too. I rubbed my wrists where the bands had left marks against my skin as he removed the ankle bands, too.

“Why the blood?” I asked, sitting up on the gurney. I was glad that the restraints were gone, but it also made me uneasy. Was Vega just going to let me go?

“When agents cease being useful,” Vega said, ignoring my question, “they must be eliminated. Clive was no longer useful—indeed he’d become a dangerous nuisance, targeting another agent as he did, and involving civilians.”

“So you’re the one who put the hit out on Clive?” I asked, incredulous. “You’d murder the man you said you ‘saved’?”

“You say
murder
, I say
terminate his employment
.”