The Assassin's Prayer (16 page)

“I
thought you were going to take all night,” she teased. “A blind man could have
done it faster.”

Kain
gave her a look, which, of course, she couldn’t see.

The
next few minutes were spent in silence as Larissa worked, her movements deft and
sure, belying her blindness. She squeezed together the edges of the wound and
began sewing it shut. Kain felt the prick of the needle sliding in and out of
his skin but barely registered it as pain. His was a life of violence; he had
been cut by more knives and grazed by more bullets than he cared to remember,
so a needle’s prick was nothing.

Larissa
leaned over to bite off the excess thread. In that instant, Kain felt something
pass between them, an invisible but undeniable shift in the air. As Larissa’s
teeth bit through the thread, her lips grazed his skin and Kain felt her
hesitate, lingering for just a moment longer than was necessary. His pulse
quickened and heat rushed through his veins. He fought for control, but it was
as if the reins of his emotions had been ripped from his grasp. Desire rose up
and battered down his resistance, urging him to surrender to the recklessness
of the moment.

Larissa’s
hands came up slowly and touched his face in a soft, ghost-like caress. Her
eyes, though unfocused, were stunningly bright in the soft glow of the gas
lamp, sparkling gems that seemed to peer right into his heart. Kain felt
breathless. But he still tried once again to resist. He reached up and took
hold of her wrists. “Larissa, I—”

“Shhhhhhh.”
She hushed him, gently brushing away his hands. “I want to see you.”

He
knew what she meant, what she wanted. Her touch was now her eyes, the only
“sight” she had left in the aftermath of Macklin’s bullet all those years ago.
He let his hands fall to his side.

As
she leaned in close, Kain could hear the pounding rhythm of her heart. As she
gently explored his face, reacquainting herself with the curve of his cheek,
the angle of his jaw, the harsh bristle of his facial stubble, Kain tried to
convince himself that he was still in control, that her touch did nothing for
him, but he was just lying to himself. He could hear the desire in her ragged
breath and knowing how much she wanted him only made Kain want her that much
more.

But
it was more than just simple sexual desire; it was a yearning for a respite
from the violence that haunted him relentlessly. For just a few moments,
however fleeting, he didn’t want to think about Karen or Silas or Macklin or
any of his other demons. Tonight he just wanted to touch and be touched, to
hold and be held. Tonight he didn’t want to be alone. Tonight he and Larissa were
just two desperate souls with no one else to turn to but each other.

He
stood up and pulled her close. Memories of their days together came rushing
back and he remembered how good she had felt against him, how soft and warm and
yielding her body had been, just like now. Her hands roamed, exploring his
corded muscles, his powerful frame. Her touch made Kain ache with something he
had not felt in a long time. Need and desire converged and slammed through him
like a bullet, shattering the last vestiges of his hesitation.

His
hands slid beneath her shirt and he relished the silky feel of her skin. Her
sigh of pleasure became a breathless moan when his hands rose to her breasts. Her
arms slid around his neck, fingers running through his hair as he caressed her.
“Oh, God…”

Kain
felt the passion rise swift and hot and sear away his demons, sloughing them
from his soul like an ugly, unwanted skin. Tomorrow they might all come
slinking back to sink their venomous fangs in once again, but for now their
stranglehold on his heart was broken. He picked Larissa up in his arms, carried
her into the bedroom, and laid her down on the bunk.

He
undressed her in the dark, the shadows pooling in the secrets of her body, and
touched her with fingers and lips. He breathed in the scent of her skin and
felt intoxicated and powerless by the spell weaving through his veins.

He
shed his clothes and joined her on the bed. She murmured softly as he lowered
his body onto hers. Naked flesh slid together with the satiny friction of skin
on skin. Larissa drew his face down to hers, her lips every bit as soft and
sweet as Kain remembered. Her legs rose around him and he melted into her, lost
in the moment. Her fingers raked at his back, clutching him tighter as he moved
deep within her silken heat. He felt the warm, supple crush of her breasts
against his chest as her mouth flowered open beneath his, their tongues
writhing together in hot, sensual abandon.

Their
surrender was total and complete and without reservation. Larissa gasped as
Kain began to lose control, his body moving with hers in urgent rhythms, mutual
ecstasy burning them both to the breaking point. In the seconds before she was
rocked by release, Larissa whisper-screamed, “Oh God, I love you.”

Even
lost in the smoldering throes of passion, her gasping declaration ripped at
something in Kain. But then it succumbed to the all-consuming rush of his own
release.

After,
they lay curled together in a tangle of limbs. Kain looked at her and saw sweat
on her face. No, wait, not sweat—tears. “Hey,” he said, surprised by just how
much emotion thickened his voice. “What’s wrong?”

She
brushed away the tears. “Nothing.”

“Tell
me.”

She
took his hand, their fingers interlaced. She was quiet for a long time before
she spoke. “I love you, Travis. More than you can ever know.”

He
squeezed her hand, but said nothing.

Fresh
tears glistened in her unseeing eyes. “You can’t say it, can you.” It wasn’t a
question.

Kain
opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. He could not say what she wanted
to hear and anything else would be woefully inadequate.

“I
don’t understand.” Her voice was a whisper in the dark. “After all these years,
what are the odds I would be in the apartment right next door to a bunch of
mercenaries you were hunting? Have you even thought about what that means?”

“It
was just a coincidence.” Rain began to patter on the roof. Droplets streamed
down the window, reminding Kain of the tears on Larissa’s face.

“You
can call it coincidence if that makes it easier for you to deny your feelings,”
she said. “But you and I both know that it was something more. Call it fate,
call it God, call it destiny, but we were meant to find each other again.”

She
clutched at him with something akin to desperation. He pulled her close and
kissed her long and deep, then stared into her blinded eyes. “You might be
right,” he said softly. “But right now this is all I can give you.”

She
smiled up at him through her tears and said, “If all we have is tonight, then I
want to make it a night I’ll never forget.”

They
made love again, the fierceness of the first time now replaced by something
more gentle and tender. As he gave himself to her, Kain felt their hearts
connecting and didn’t try to stop it, knowing it was what she needed. Hell,
maybe he needed it too.

Shadows
writhed on the walls and rain danced on the roof as they lost themselves in
each other. Kain could feel his demons knocking on the door of his soul, but he
refused to grant them entry. Not tonight. Tonight was for peace, however brief.
Tonight he was just a man like any other lying in bed with a woman. Tonight he
was not an assassin, a cold-blooded killer for hire; no, tonight he was normal
and as he made love to Larissa, he could not deny that he longed for the
normalcy to last more than just one night. He craved a life free of bullets and
void of blood.

She’s
offered it to you,
an inner voice
said.
Why don’t you take it?

I
can’t.

Can’t
… or won’t?

He
didn’t know the answer to that.

Would
there ever come a time when his hands did something other than kill? Would his
finger ever feel anything other than the cold curve of a trigger? Would he even
know how to live that kind of life? Probably not, if he was being honest with
himself. Live by the gun, die by the gun. That was his existence. Anything else
seemed incomprehensible.

And
then he stopped thinking about anything other than being with Larissa. As they
surrendered to each other again and again through the long, sweet hours of the
night, he did his best to ignore the feeling that the stitches in his heart had
begun to unravel.

CHAPTER 15

After
leaving Kain and Larissa at the cabin, it only took Cobb about thirty minutes
to drive to Joe’s Motel, but by the time he got there his bladder was begging
for relief. It was that damned road. All that bumping and bouncing played havoc
with a man’s innards. He should have just pulled over and watered the weeds,
but the thought of exiting the truck’s toasty warmth for the cold of the night
had convinced him he could hold it until he got to Joe’s.

There
was nobody behind the counter, so Cobb banged on a rusty silver bell for
service. He had to bang it over and over again until Joe appeared, taking so
long that Cobb was tempted to piss right there on the frigging floor. But despite
hurling a litany of curses, the motel owner gave him a room free of charge when
he found out Cobb had returned his precious Dodge Ram, which Joe wasn’t even
yet aware had been stolen. “Just remember,” Joe said, “no orgies in the room.”

“Yeah,
yeah, I know,” Cobb said. “Unless you’re invited.”

“You
betcha.”

Even
though his bladder was threatening to go ballistic on him, Cobb took a moment
to look at the bullet-riddled Jeep out back. He whistled to himself when he saw
the damage wrought by the chopper’s .50 caliber machinegun. Kain and Larissa
were lucky to be alive. Well, if you could call two people who were being
hunted by a Company kill-squad and a ruthless crime family “lucky.”

The
call of nature finally consumed his curiosity. He quickly found his room and
hurried into the bathroom. It wasn’t much bigger than a broom closet and the
light flickered with a sputtering noise, but Cobb didn’t care. All that
mattered right now was the toilet in front of him. Because happiness is an
empty bladder.

Cobb
flushed, washed his hands, and went back out into his hotel room. Not much to
look at, but it was clean. He wondered how things were going back at his cabin.
It was pretty obvious that Larissa’s old feelings for Kain had arisen once
again. Or, more likely, had never left in the first place.

Pressing
on the bed to test the springs, Cobb snorted to himself. Poor Lissy, always falling
in love with assassins. Cobb fervently hoped Kain wouldn’t break her heart all
over again, because it was a broken heart that had put those scars on her
wrists and Cobb never wanted to go through those dark days again.

Cobb
considered turning on the TV, but decided it was late and he needed to get some
sleep. Not that he was tired. The unusual circumstances and strange
surroundings served to suck the slumber right out of him as if he had mainlined
No-Doz. Still, he had to try or he would be a zombie in the morning.

He
crawled into bed and laid there wide awake for what seemed like forever but in
actuality was only about three minutes. He didn’t regret giving up his cabin to
Kain and Larissa, but right now he craved the warm familiarity of his own bunk.

He
stared up at the ceiling and reflected on the story Kain had relayed to him. Sounded
like he was eyeball-deep in shit and the only way out was to suck it up. This
Macklin hombre seemed like a particularly nasty demon and Cobb knew all too
well that some demons took a lot of killing before they went down for good. And
if Kain’s old pal Silas was still breathing, that meant Kain was walking around
with two bulls-eyes painted on his back. Cobb knew better than to underestimate
the treachery of a friend and there was a lot of hate lurking between Kain and
Silas, a hate only complicated by the fact that, assuming he was alive, Kain
had punched a sliver through Silas’ eye. You didn’t lose an eye and not want
some serious payback. Cobb hoped for Kain’s sake—not to mention Larissa’s—that
Silas was dead and sucking on the devil’s knob right about now. If not, things
could end very badly.

Cobb
felt the darkness of depressing thoughts weighing down on him. He was hardly a
prayer warrior, but he fired one off anyway. Never hurt to hedge your bets.

Praying
made him think about God, which in turn made him grab his mortality by the
scruff of the neck and stare it in the face. He was an old man, no denying
that, and the grave lurked just around the corner. But the thought of dying
didn’t really bother him, even though he wasn’t really sure what waited on the
other side. Heaven? Hell? Disneyland? He had known plenty of people with plenty
of faith, but when it came right down to the nitty-gritty, nobody could know
for sure until their time came.

No,
it wasn’t dying itself that scared him, but dying
shamefully.
As cliché
as it was, he wanted to die like a man. He wanted to spit in the Reaper’s eye
and tell him to shove that sickle or scythe or whatever he carried right up his
bony backside.

When
it was Kain’s turn to die, he would die well, of that Cobb had no doubt. And
his turn might very well come while protecting Larissa. Cobb chuckled, struck
by the irony. In order to protect his beloved granddaughter from killers, he
had entrusted her into the hands of a killer. Talk about fighting fire with
fire.

Cobb
had no delusions about what Kain was, the cold-blooded ruthlessness, the blood
that stained his hands and the sins that stained his soul. But there was nobody
Cobb would rather have as Larissa’s guardian in these circumstances. Kain would
die to defend her, would give his life for hers if necessary. As far as Cobb
was concerned, that made up for a lot of shortcomings.

He
hastily fired off another prayer. He didn’t know if it got any further than the
ceiling, but it made him feel better, and maybe that was the point.
Please,
God, don’t let him die. You already took Todd away from Larissa; don’t take
Kain too. Besides, I’m sure You know that this Colonel Macklin fella needs to
die, so why don’t You do us all a big favor and let Kain cram a .45 down the cocksucker’s
throat and make him eat a bullet.

Not
a pretty prayer, but Cobb figured God got the point.

******

When
Cobb awoke a few hours later, he instantly felt that something was wrong. He
had slept badly, tossing and turning on the unfamiliar bed. The sheets were
tangled in sweaty knots around his legs and feet, which felt hot and clammy.
But the sensation he felt was not one of discomfort, but one of menace. Everything
was too quiet, too hushed, as if the world had just shut up. It was an
unnatural silence and Cobb didn’t like it, not one bit. His skin crawled.

He
turned his head toward the window. Thin gray light seeped through a gap in the
blinds, letting him know dawn had arrived. But that uneasy feeling continued to
churn his guts. He listened for a sound, any sound, in the semi-darkness of the
room. But all he heard was his breath rattling in his throat and the too-fast
beat of his old ticker. Panic hit him for a moment—maybe he was having a heart
attack. No, wait, that couldn’t be it; he didn’t feel any pain in his chest.

He
took several long, deep breaths, forcing his heart to slow down. It finally
did, but the feeling of unease still clung to him like a second skin. He had to
get back to Larissa and Kain right now. Something was wrong. He could feel it.

He
hurried into the bathroom, splashed some water on his face, dried with a towel,
got dressed, and opened the door.

He
never heard the shot that took him just above his belt buckle. Just felt the
blow of the bullet blasting through him, the burning pain of things inside him
being torn apart. He was flung backward as if struck by the hand of God and
landed in a sitting position against the side of the bed. When he clasped his
hands over his belly, something that reminded him of hot maple syrup spilled
over his fingers, which suddenly began to shake.

Oh
God, I’ve been shot!

He
suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to stand up, but when he tried to, agony forced
him back down with a strangled cry. Whatever he faced next, he would have to
face on his knees. The knowledge was a bitter taste in his mouth, worse even
than the pain that now gnawed on every nerve.

He
looked at the open door, a rectangle of gray light. For just a second he could
see a military-style Hummer parked outside, then a hulking figure filled the
doorway, blocking out the light. The man was nothing but a silhouette; Cobb
couldn’t make out his features, but he could certainly make out the pistol in
the man’s hand. Cobb knew enough about guns to recognize a Glock when he saw
one. This one sported a suppressor, which explained why he hadn’t heard the
shot that drilled him. The scumbag was probably using subsonic ammo too. Not a
lot of noise.

The
silhouetted man didn’t speak. Just stood there, exuding menace. Finally, he
reached for the light switch and in the sudden illumination, Cobb saw the
horrible scar stretched across his throat like a shiny grin. “Macklin…” Cobb
said through pain-clenched teeth. “You bastard.”

Macklin
stepped into the room and closed the door. To Cobb, it sounded like a coffin
lid clicking shut. He knew he didn’t have a holy chance in hell of leaving this
squalid little room alive.
Larissa,
he thought.
I’m never going to
see her again.
Tears burned his eyes but he refused to let them fall. Macklin
would take pleasure in them and Cobb would be damned if he’d give the sick
psychopath anything to smile about. Instead, he tried to steel himself for what
would come next.

Macklin
holstered the Glock and crouched down in front of him. His frigid gaze
scrutinized Cobb like a viper sizing up its next victim. “Looks like you were
in the wrong place at the wrong time, Mr. Cobb.” Macklin’s voice was a barely
intelligible rasp.

Cobb
started to reply, but got interrupted by a coughing fit that left his lips
spackled with blood. “So you know who I am,” he finally managed to say.

“After
we tracked Kain’s Jeep to this location, we naturally had some questions and
your friend Joe was nice enough to tell us about his stolen truck and the fact
that you brought it back. Eventually, he told us all about you. Took a little
persuasion, but that’s something at which I excel. Once he gave up your
name—and room number, obviously—I just ran you through the Company databanks
and now I know pretty much everything there is to know about you.”

“Just
like God, huh?”

“Close.”

Another
blood-flecked coughing fit gripped Cobb.
Good Lord,
he thought,
I am
messed up bad.
“If you’re God,” he said once he could speak again, “I think
I’d rather suck the devil’s dick.”

Macklin
smiled thinly. “You’ve got balls, old man, I’ll give you that.”

“You’ve
got balls too,” Cobb said, “and if you don’t mind, I’d like to chop the suckers
off and hang them from my rearview mirror. I think they’d make a pearl of a
conversation piece.”

Macklin
chuckled, but it was a cold sound without mirth. “Let me lay out the situation
for you.” He pointed at Cobb’s wound. “You’ve been gut shot and you’re going to
die. Unfortunately, gut shots are notoriously slow and you’ll probably live for
at least another three hours and those hours will be spent in excruciating
agony. That’s the bad news.”

Cobb
was feeling some of that excruciating agony right now. He did his best to hide
it, but the sweat beading his forehead betrayed him. “Thanks for putting such a
rosy spin on things. Now why don’t ya get to the point before those three hours
are up?”

Macklin
retained his cruel, razor-thin smile. “The point is,” he said, “there’s also
some good news, and the good news is, if you tell me where Kain and your
granddaughter are holed up, I’ll give you a quick death. How’s that for a
reasonable offer?”

“I’ve
got a better one,” Cobb countered. “You tell me what I want to know, I’ll tell
you what you want to know.”

Macklin’s
features were so stone-faced inscrutable they deserved a place on Mt. Rushmore.
“All depends on what you want to know,” he said.

“Like
it matters,” Cobb retorted. “I’m a dead man no matter what. You could tell me
who really killed JFK and it wouldn’t make any difference. But all I really
want to know is how you found the Jeep here.”

“There’s
an electro-magnetic tracking device attached to the frame of the Jeep and
linked to a Company satellite, so I always know where Kain is, as long as he
uses the Jeep. But now the Jeep is here and Kain is not and quite frankly, that
pisses me off. So do yourself a favor and tell me where he is.”

“One
more question,” Cobb said. “When did you put the tracker on the Jeep?”

“I
sent a couple of protégés to his house a few days ago. They attached the device
before they initiated the strike and got themselves killed. Now I’ve answered
your questions, so it’s your turn to answer mine—where are they?”

“Go
to hell.”

Macklin
sighed. “Fine, we’ll do this the hard way.” He yanked Cobb to his feet and
threw him on the bed. Cobb landed in a pile of blood and pain, his savaged guts
wrenching a terrible cry past his lips. Those lips turned to pulp when Macklin
smashed the cry back down his throat with a brutal backhand.

Using
plastic restraints, Macklin bound Cobb’s hands and feet and then used a knife
to cut away his clothes. The old man endured the indignities in silence, for
there was nothing he could do about it. On his best day he was no match for
Macklin’s strength, let alone on a day like this, with a hole in his stomach
where his navel should have been. Blood loss had shocked his system way beyond
the point of any resistance. He was utterly at Macklin’s mercy and Cobb was
pretty sure the man didn’t even know the word.