The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(50)

Brow furrowed, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He merely arched a brow at her. Granted, she hadn’t told him about Klaus up until this point, but she really hadn’t thought much about him until he’d contacted her today…and it was also because she knew Mishca would be upset if he knew.

“You shouldn’t have contacted him.”

“Well technically—”

“If you finish that statement…”

“Okay, okay.” Clearly he wasn’t in a joking mood. “I didn’t know what else to do. He was my best option.”

“So your idea was to go to the one person that wants me dead?” He asked dryly.

She didn’t really have any other choice, at least she didn’t think so at the time. “You’re the one that said he was the best shot in the world. If he wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have woken up,” she said remembering what Klaus had said.

“That’s besides the point, Lauren. He wants me dead. Period.”

In a quiet voice, she said, “You would have done the same for me.”

He pulled her into his side with an arm around her waist, the anger in him draining away. “Difference is, I have experience in this world. I have contacts. If you wanted to do this—even if I don’t agree—why didn’t you ask Luka?”

“I don’t know. Normally, snipers know other snipers.”

He seemed baffled by her reasoning.

“What? That’s what usually happens in the show.”

Shoving a hand through his hair, he tried desperately to keep the smile off his face. “How have you lived so long on your own?”

She shrugged. “I would say that I’ll stop meeting with Klaus, but we both know that would be a lie. The bottom line is, someone tried to kill you, and if you had been able to at the time, you would have made the same call, but since you weren’t I made an executive decision. I will tell you about any further correspondence from now on. Deal?”

Extending her hand, she looked to him, fully expecting him to comply, but for a while he just watched her, a dazed look in his eye.

“Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

She smiled, leaning over to kiss him lightly on the mouth. “You protect me, and I’ll protect you.”





Later that night, across the city in Hell’s Kitchen, Klaus entered a diner on the corner of Lex and 12th, oblivious to the clanging bell as he entered through the front doors. It was one of those places that was hard on the eyes, but had some of the best food money could buy.

Klaus hadn’t chosen this place for the meet up just because of the great cuisine, but because he was hoping to see the one person that had been on his mind for the last two years. With only a first name and the place she worked, Klaus had hoped she would still be around despite not knowing anything else about her.

It was wishful thinking, sure, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to check.

Celt was waiting for him at an empty table, a cup of tea resting on the table in front of him. Though he was opening dozens of packets of sugar to dump into his cup, his focus solely on his task, Klaus was sure he had already clocked him walking through the door.

Turning the chair around, he straddled it, smirking as Celt reached for more sugar. “Got enough there?”

“Mind your own, Red,” he grumbled, gulping down half of it.

Chuckling, Klaus asked, “What do you have for me?”

“No one bit on the Russian.”

Klaus frowned, rubbing his jaw. He didn’t doubt Celt’s words, not for a moment, but he was sure the sniper had to be one of their own.

He needed to go back and check out that rooftop. The police report hadn’t yielded anything useful, and he doubted there was anyone out there that could provide any useful information.

“You wanna tell me what you got yourself involved in?” Celt asked, signaling to the waitress that he wanted a refill.

“Bit of side work while I’m free. I thought you were picking up another contract after your last one ended?” Klaus asked changing the subject.

Celt took a moment, flirting with the waitress when she came over with a fresh cup. She merely smiled at his antics before turning to Klaus to ask for his order.

“Nothing for me, thanks.” She was preparing to walk away when Klaus called out to her. “You know if Reagan is working today?”

She eyed him curiously, looking him up and down before shaking her head. “Not today, no.”

He didn’t know whether or not that was true—especially judging from the way she was eyeing him—but he could always check for her another time. After he nodded, she was gone.

Celt looked from him to the retreating waitress, and back again. “Right, then. I have no idea if this has anything to do with what you’ve got working here, but I hear Rayne is in town.”

Klaus immediately started rubbing his forehead, a migraine ready to make itself known. There were very few people in the world that Klaus made a point to avoid.

Rayne was at the top of that list.

Her codename name was Blood Rayne, not just because she was pale as a vampire with ruby-red lips, but because she had a knack for slicing the throats of her victims with a special gold ’S’ shaped blade.

He didn’t know whether she was any good with a rifle—they all had their specialties—so he doubted she had anything to do with the shooting, but if she was in on the hunt, that made his job just a little bit harder.