The Black Wolf (In the Company of Killers, #5)(13)
“In any other case,” he continues, “Flynn would be dead by now, but this is a delicate matter. I do not trust him”—Dorian eyes me regretfully across the table—“but I do not believe he is deceptive in his reasons for being here, either.”
“So you’re going to make a deal with his employers?” Nora speaks up with suspicion in her voice.
“That is still in question,” Victor answers. “As I said, I will be meeting with them first. What decisions are made during and after that meeting will depend on many factors.”
“I think it’s signing a deal with the Devil,” Nora warns. “If you agree to work for them, we’ll all pretty much be under their control—”
“No,” Victor cuts in, and then looks right at Dorian with a sort of quiet threat. “My Order will remain my Order, as Dorian and I have discussed. Nothing will ever be carried out that I do not fully agree to. No changes in my organization will take place unless I am the one to make them. I will owe them nothing and they will abide by my terms, or they will get nothing.” Victor’s eyes fall on each of us in turns as he explains with stiff assurance. “If a deal is made, nothing will change other than the addition of a new client. I will not be intimidated by the government; I will not be threatened; I will not be controlled.”
He turns to Dorian again and holds his unwavering gaze.
“Flynn knows that because his employers are seeking me for help that they are incapable of protecting those he loves from me—including Tessa.”
I swallow hard, knowing that Victor never makes a threat he won’t carry out. But Tessa? She’s an innocent woman—would he really kill her if Dorian or these men he works for, betrays him? I have to believe that he wouldn’t, that this is just for show so that he can keep Dorian in line.
“For the most part, I think Dorian is trustworthy,” I speak up. “I don’t know about his employers—they, probably not so much—but I believe in Dorian.” He smiles gently at me, thanking me with his eyes.
“Even so,” Victor says, “you, nor anyone else in my Order is ever to give Flynn any information that I do not authorize. From here on out, Flynn will take orders only from me; there will be no passing of orders or information of any kind to Flynn unless I specifically command it. Flynn will not go on missions alone, nor will he lead any missions. He must be accompanied by one of you, Niklas, or an agent from the First Division, at all times.”
Dorian says nothing. I can’t even tell if these new stipulations bother him or not. But I suppose they’re better than being dead.
“Wait—” Nora presses her back against the chair and crosses her bare arms over her chest. She purses her dark red painted lips, eyeing Dorian suspiciously. “So, you’re saying he’s still going to be working for you, while at the same time working for U.S. Intelligence?” She shakes her head with rejection, chewing on the inside of her mouth. “You cannot serve two masters—masters vie for power, they don’t share it.” She leans forward against the table, her dark eyes like burning embers piercing through Dorian. “What master do you serve, Dorian Flynn? The ones who brought you into this dark world, or the one who will take you out of it?”
Now there’s the intelligent, cold and calculating Nora Kessler I have come to envy, the same dangerous woman she was when she waltzed into our lives and shook us all to our bitter cores.
I notice Fredrik quietly watching Nora with a little more interest than I’m used to seeing him show, and I’m not sure I like it or not. I’m not sure I even understand it.
Dorian cocks his head to one side, studying the beautiful, cunning blond that not so long ago shot him in both shoulders, made a fool out of him, manipulated him with a skill he could never match, and forced him to confess to all of us who he really is. It’s because of her that he’s in this situation with Victor. I wonder how much of him would love nothing more than to wrap his hands around her throat and choke the life out of her.
“You’re very beautiful,” he says in a soft playful voice; his bright blue eyes glistening under the fluorescent light above the table. “But you’re a mouthy f*cking bitch.” He grins, leaning forward, pressing his chest against the edge of the table just like Nora. “I serve no f*cking master,” he says, “but if I have to choose, I will always make the choice that suits the circumstance.”
My head snaps back to Dorian—that’s definitely not the kind of answer I would’ve given considering the predicament he’s in.
Victor turns his head slowly to face Dorian, but his expression is unreadable.
Fredrik has also turned all of his brooding attention on Dorian.
James Woodard, who has been awfully quiet the entire time, looks over at Dorian with wide eyes veiled by a thin layer of panic.
Nora’s red smile lengthens maliciously.
“Those are bold words,” she says. “Maybe you should just kill him, Victor.” She never takes her eyes off Dorian’s.
“Izabel trusts me,” Dorian says, challenging her. “Fredrik apparently trusted me enough after torturing me for days, to release me. And Victor, your leader”—his words have become ice—“freed me from that goddamned cell, and here I am, sitting with the rest of you.” He stands from his chair, leaning over the table, and points a finger at her; his jaw moving as he grinds his teeth together. “I don’t need to prove shit to you—f*cking cunt.”