Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters #3)(98)

I can already see her throne, a massive structure made of all the spirits of men’s souls that she’s crushed.

“First things first. I need to get back to Russia.”

“There might be a little hiccup with that.”

Sloane and I turn at the sound of Declan’s voice. He stands in the doorway, gazing down at us with his hand on the doorknob and an inscrutable expression on his face.

I say, “Such as?”

“Malek has put the word out. Anyone who assists you in attempting to return to him dies.”

Shocked, I shout, “What?”

“Apparently, he knows you well.”

I leap to my feet and stare at him, vibrating with anger. “Apparently, he doesn’t! Because I’ll swim there if I have to!”

He says gently, “Maybe it’s for the best, lass. You’d never be safe with him now, not with what he’s doing.”

“You mean the way Sloane isn’t safe with you, but she’s still here? You mean the way Nat’s not safe with Kage, but they’re still together?”

He gazes at me for a beat with a million unspoken words spiraling behind his eyes. “Not exactly.”

When he doesn’t continue, I say, “I’ll throat punch you, gangster.”

“Honey, just tell us what’s going on,” says Sloane, standing.

He looks back and forth between us, then looks heavenward and sighs.

“Stop praying and spit it out!”

“There’s this group called the Thirteen,” he starts, but gets interrupted by Sloane, who says, “Group? Like a band?”

Declan mutters, “I told him that name was shite.” Then, louder: “They’re not a band.”

He goes on to describe the plot of a James Bond movie. Bad guys disguised as good guys, good guys disguised as bad guys, international espionage, corrupt governments, I don’t even know what else because I stop listening halfway through.

Sloane says, “Are you in this group?”

“We help each other out from time to time, but I’m not a member.”

“What about Kazimir?”

He looks offended. “No!”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, I’m just asking.”

I say loudly, “Everybody shut up. I have an important question.”

Sloane and Declan look at me.

“Whoever else is in this stupid international spy-band-whatever group, do any of them have girlfriends or wives?”

Declan says instantly, “Of course.”

He realizes his mistake when I glare at him. Then he raises his hands like he’s in a holdup. “I don’t make the rules, lass.”

“You know what? This is bullshit. Get Mal on the phone.”

“You say that like you think I have his number.”

“Whoever you know that he knows, this mutual friend, call that guy and get his number!”

He’s beginning to look like he’s regretting this entire conversation. “He’s not the bloody telephone directory.”

“I have your boyfriend’s number.”

We all turn. Behind Declan in the hallway stands Spider, staring at me from under lowered brows.

“You want it?” He crooks a finger then turns around and walks away without another word.

After he’s out of earshot, Sloane says uneasily, “Why do I get the feeling there’s going to be a price attached?”

I mutter, “Blackmail’s popular for a reason,” then follow Spider out the door.





46





Riley





Spider leads me down the hallway to another bedroom and closes the door behind us. He stands with his hand on the knob, facing away from me, then says quietly, “Make me understand this.”

“There’s nothing to understand.”

He turns to me. What I see in his eyes makes me take a step back.

We stare at each other in tense silence, until he says gruffly, “Three months. I searched for you for almost three fucking months.”

I can already tell this is going to be a drama-filled conversation and brace myself for the worst. I moisten my lips and say, “I know.”

Wound tight as a spring, he steps away from the door and closer to me. His intense gaze never leaves my face.

“You know? You know what I went through? How I couldn’t eat? I couldn’t sleep? I couldn’t even close my eyes without seeing the look on your face after I shot you?”

I say gently, “It was an accident.”

His voice rises. “An accident that never would’ve happened if that son of a bitch hadn’t been in the room with you.”

A vein throbs in his neck. His breathing is erratic. He’s upset, visibly so, and part of me wants to hug him.

I know if I did, it would be a disaster.

He says bitterly, “And now you think you’re in love with him. The assassin who came to kill Declan. The man who kidnapped you and took you to another country.”

“Please, Spider—”

“The man who threw you out like trash when he was finished with you.”

That feels like a punch to the stomach.

When he sees the expression on my face, he closes his eyes and mutters, “Fuck.”