The Black Wolf (In the Company of Killers, #5)(18)

But Victor doesn’t find the humor in it.

Instead he says, “And because the brothel isn’t the only business that Moretti runs. She’s also a seller in the sex slave trade.”

My blood is on fire, but I keep it to myself.

“She will not do business with either of you,” he goes on. “If you see any women there they will either be slaves, cyprians, members of her family, or I can almost guarantee you that if they are buyers, they will be much older and far less beautiful than Moretti herself.”

Victor stands and straightens his suit jacket. He begins to pace with his hands clasped together on his backside. He doesn’t appear at all nervous—I’m not sure if Victor is capable of being nervous—but he seems…uncertain, perhaps?

Nora and I watch him walk back and forth behind his chair for a few seconds until he comes to a stop. His hands break apart and slide down casually into the pockets of his suit pants.

“You will need Niklas for this mission,” he announces. “You will have to convince him to join you in Italy.”

My and Nora’s eyes draw together like two magnets across the table from one another. She’s clearly as stunned as I am.

“So, I take it,” Nora says, turning her attention to Victor, “that this other man whose property we’re to be on this mission, is Niklas?”

“Yes,” Victor says.

I frown just thinking about being Niklas’s ‘property’. But it is what it is, and a job is a job, and I’ll do what I have to.

“Um, Victor,” I say, “we don’t even know where he is.”

“I’ve known where he is since last Thursday,” he says.

Surprised, and a little bitter about not being told this news sooner, I just stare at him.

“He has been sleeping in an upstairs apartment,” Victor says, “on Gaither Street just ten minutes from this building. Every night since last Thursday, he has spent in the bar on the bottom floor beneath his room.”

“Great,” Nora says eagerly, as if she doesn’t care about not being told sooner, “then that makes it easier. We’ll go there tonight and bring him back.”

“It’s not gonna be that simple,” I speak up, knowing Niklas a lot better than she does. “I doubt Niklas is going to be enthusiastic about doing a job, or any favors, for Victor.”

“Izabel is right,” Victor tells Nora. “My brother has not forgiven me for what I did, and he may never forgive me.”

Nora rests her back against the chair and then pushes her blond hair away from one shoulder. She crosses her arms and tilts her head to one side, preparing to make a point, it appears.

“Well then, if that’s the case,” she says, “then why not just send someone in Niklas’s place? Why waste time with Niklas when you can just send someone else?”

“Niklas won’t agree to it, Victor,” I add.

Victor looks at both of us in turns and then says, “If you tell Niklas the details of this mission, and that you”—he looks right at me—“will be going, he will agree to it.”

I feel the spot between my eyes stiffen.

Nora looks almost as confused as I know I do.

Victor begins to pace again, very slowly, his hands still buried in his pockets.

“My brother is the only man I trust to go on this mission with you,” he says. “If you cannot convince him to go, I will be sending a woman from the First Division to go in your stead.”

My mouth opens slightly in shock and argument.

“What? Why?”

His eyes lock on mine, full of knowledge and resolve and power. “Because as much as my brother despises me right now,” he says, “he is still loyal to me and he will always be loyal to me. He, more than anyone, knows my feelings for you Izabel, and he will die protecting you.” Finally he looks away from me, taking the gravity of his statement with him, which leaves me with so many unanswered questions, so many feelings of uncertainty: What does Victor expect to happen to me on this mission that he only trusts Niklas to be at my side? Why in the hell would Victor think that Niklas would actually die to protect me, the only person who has ever managed to stand between them as brothers (well, aside from Claire, anyway)? What makes Victor so sure that Niklas won’t just kill me, like Victor killed Claire, and make things even between them? And why does that knowing look on Nora’s face give me the feeling that she knows the answers to every single one of my questions already? Ugh! I hate her sometimes!

“And the other reason I want Niklas on this mission,” Victor goes on, “is because the nature of the mission requires someone like him. Knowing my brother, he is the best operative in my Order for the job.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Nora speaks up impatiently. “What time do we leave for this bar?”

I still haven’t managed to get past the questions swirling around in my head.

“Niklas should be at the bar by nine o’clock tonight,” Victor answers.

He slides both hands from his pockets and leans over, pressing them against the table; I can see something in his right hand, pressed between his curled fingers: small, plastic, black.

“You leave for Italy in the morning,” he says and then slides a tiny flash drive across the table to Nora. “Everything the three of you will need to know about the mission is here. The password to access the files I will give to Izabel tonight.” He looks right me. “It would be wise not to go to that bar tonight with any hopes of mending this thing between my brother and me; it is a waste of time at this point; focus only on the mission.”