Retribution (Secrets & Lies #3)(38)
“You mean you didn't have time to drag me down the hall, tie me up, and get my shirt off to see if I was wearing a wire before I woke up,” I grunt, my mouth fuzzy. “What did you hit me with?”
“Well, let's see. If you can feel it, you've got another little bump in your other thigh, I shot you in your left side, so what do you think?” Isis asks playfully. “I taught you a lot about chemicals in the months we worked together.”
“Etorphine,” I reply, hissing as I feel the spot where she injected the antidote into my other leg. “No wonder you wanted to work fast, getting the counteragent. You could have killed me.”
“What I really wanted was something that would work quickly, but also fade just as quickly. So sodium thiopental wasn't on the menu, and ketamine... well, I've never really liked Special K. And let us not get into what fentanyl would do to you. No thank you,” Isis says conversationally, as if discussing the potentially fatal side effects of various drugs is something she does on a daily basis. “By the way, you're looking fit. No problem with your kidneys?”
“What do you know?” I ask, curious.
“I know that Vadim Orloff cut you, he wouldn’t have reported your death to Peter without injuring you. While I hate the Russians, he and I worked together sometimes, I know what he put on his blades. One of the side effects of it is a lot of stress on the kidneys. He was a very nasty man.”
“That he was. You know, speaking of nasty, you weren't exactly polite to Margaret. Why?”
Isis shrugs and reaches for the hem of her camisole top, thinking she’s teasing me a little by lifting it up, exposing her mid-section. “I needed a way to distract you. I knew you were coming, she was pliable under the Sodium Pentothal. But I also knew I only had a second at most to act, you're too professional to have skipped that bathroom. So the Colombian necktie was a bit of last minute improvisation to get your focus. Peter would approve, he's paying me more the messier each death is.”
Behind my back, I start sliding my wrists slowly, trying to find a weakness in the rope. Expert sniper, yes. Good with pharmacology, for sure. Kinky ass nymphomaniac? Check. But Isis has never been as good as I am with fieldcraft, and I can feel she's made a mistake. The edge of the cabinet is sharp, maybe some sort of Formica that's a little worn, and she used what feels like a cotton rope. Okay, keep her talking.
“If he is paying you by the body count, why not just put a round in me and be done with it?” I ask after seeing she's not holding a gun in her hands. Instead, Isis pulls her cami up a little more, and I swear she's trying to seduce me. But it’s not going to work.
“Oh, many reasons, Nathan,” Isis purrs, spreading her legs and closing them. She's definitely trying to seduce me for some f*cked up reason. “The first is that you’re not one of Peter's main targets. If I can eliminate the other six members of your little group, or five and can deliver the baby girl to him alive and safe, I’ll have satisfied him. You, well, you I can deliver or not deliver. If given the choice, I would rather not.”
I feel one of the knots on my left wrist loosen and I'm sure if I can keep Isis talking, I have a chance to escape soon. “Why not?”
Isis shrugs, pulling her top up to reveal her lacy bra. I guess she thinks it’s working. She couldn’t be more wrong. “Nathan, would you believe me if I said I regret shooting you in the ass last time?”
“Not really, considering I'm reminded of you every time I look in the mirror, but go ahead,” I reply, twisting my wrists back and forth. “You seemed to enjoy shooting me if I remember correctly.”
“At the time I did,” Isis admits, “but later, and for years, I have missed your... skills. I never have found a lover as enthusiastic or as satisfying as you in the time since, especially how good you are with your tongue. It’s a work of art. So there is that. And of course, because I’m looking for your friends as well. Wherever you've stashed them, you've done a remarkable job so far of keeping those f*ckers safe.”
“You are still a foul-mouthed slut,” I retort, trying to piss her off. If I can, she won't notice me getting ready to break my arm free... there! Now, the right hand, don't rush now. “Besides, what makes you think I haven't found better than you? Many, many women better than you?”
Isis leans back and laughs, unbuttoning her slacks and pushing them down her long legs, revealing her lace panties to me. “Oh, I think when I get down on my knees and take that cock of yours out of your jeans, I’m sure you'll remember all the things you whispered to me. I did things that even Aisha never even thought of. You may have called out her name sometimes, I never faulted you for that, but you begged for my touch just as much, if not more. It'll happen again.”
“Not a chance in hell,” I growl, yanking my right hand free. I'd hoped to catch her by surprise, but the drugs must still be somewhere in my system, because her reactions are faster than I expect. My punch crashes into the edge of the bed as Isis rolls back, and I look up just in time to catch the heel of a foot in my cheek. Guess I'm lucky she wanted to try and f*ck me before I broke free, since I don't want to imagine what her normal stiletto heels would do to my face.
Groaning, I roll, and she’s is on top of me, scratching at my chest and ripping furrows in my skin. “Oooh, lover, a kinky side I haven't seen from you before,” she teases. “Now, you're going to tell me where your friends are, or else I make it very, very painful for all of them.”