You hit?
Don't sound so upset. Stefan knew he sounded irritated, but truthfully he was annoyed with himself. Once he was certain they weren't dealing with Ivanov, he'd minimized the danger in his mind.
Yeah, you're all right.
Stefan felt rather than heard the relief in his brother's voice. It was hard to let yourself care when you hadn't for so long. Emotions were worse than rusty, they'd become so thin and tattered, feelings were hardly recognizable.
Did you just get shot at? Judith's voice reverberated through his mind, shocked, frightened. Thomas. Levi. I'm calling Jonas.
No! both men answered simultaneously.
Stefan took a breath. Who the hell is this Jonas character to you?
There was a moment of silence. Stefan cursed inwardly in a mixture of several languages. He'd just displayed a man's worst trait and he'd never known he even had it. Jealousy. Pure, black jealousy at the absent and unsuspecting Jonas.
Lev's laughter spilled into his mind. He is the local sheriff.
Judith gave a little sniff. I told you I was making a kaleidoscope for his wife. Ordinarily when someone starts firing guns, a civilized person calls the sheriff.
The anxiety in her voice belied her words. And what the hell was she doing still connected to them? He was going to have to do some fast explaining. Another bullet whined through the air like an angry bee and smacked into the tree where he'd last been and this time he located the intruder. He'd made his way into the middle of the field.
Where's he going, Lev? He's got to have an exit plan. We cut off his retreat to his car.
Stefan's heart began to pound. Even as he asked the question, the answer came to him. The intruder was circling back around toward Judith's house with the intention of taking one of the vehicles there, or using her as a hostage. He was a distance away, but there was no doubt now, that was his only real option to a successful retreat.
Judith, you'd better have that fucking security system on. Are you armed? When she remained silent, he probed further. With a gun?
Stefan moved to cut the man off, picking a route that would intercept him long before he reached Judith's home. Still . . .
Judith is a terrible shot. Lev put in his two cents.
I am not. The stupid gun is always jumping at the last second, Judith defended indignantly.
I fucking told you to practice, Lev snapped, his voice edged with worry.
You don't need to talk to her like that, Stefan objected, ignoring the fact that he'd just used the same word a couple of moments earlier. Swing around to the left and send the birds straight at him again. Herd him back toward me. And don't kill him yet, we need answers.
Don't kill him at all, Judith objected. He's probably some lost hunter.
He shot at me, Stefan reminded. Turn on that security system.
Again there was a short silence. Stefan worked his through the tall grass, careful now not to give the angle of his pursuit away. Judith?
Is he really heading this way? Her voice trembled slightly.
You don't know how to set the security system, do you? Stefan guessed.
Well, I've never actually done it, Judith admitted reluctantly.
Lev gave a snort of disgust. Damn it, Judith. How many times have I told you it's important to lock up at night?
Don't swear at her, Stefan snapped. Just walk her through the damn thing. Don't worry, Judith, he's not going to get near you. It's just a precaution.
He could hear the brush of a body moving just to the right of him. He was closing in on him. Lev recited the instructions for arming the security system in Judith's home. Even as Stefan angled his body, crawling through the grass, to intercept the intruder, he made a mental note to go over security with Judith until she was comfortable with the idea.
An audible crackle gave away Lev's position and immediately the intruder turned toward the sound and fired. Stefan lunged forward, crouching low, sprinting toward the gunman.
Lev. Answer me.
The intruder fired twice more toward the sound, giving away his position. Stefan took the opportunity to close the distance fast, his heart in his throat as he waited for his brother's response. He could feel Judith holding her breath as well as time seemed suspended for a moment.
Just a bruised ego. I tripped over a damn rock.
The grass parted in front of Stefan and a man's face appeared. Shock spread over the horrified features even as a hand came up, his gun clutched in his fist. Stefan had forward momentum going for him, hitting the body hard, catching the wrist and turning the weapon away from him as it went off, the sound nearly deafening next to his ear. They rolled together, Stefan slamming his knee into the man's groin at the same time he smashed the wrist against a rock jutting out of the ground.
The man tried to scream, but the groin shot had taken the air from his lungs. The gun fell from his limp fingers, as the wrist broke with an audible crack.
I've got him. Judith, stay in the house.
With that last command, he rapidly built up his shields to push away the energy surrounding him, effectively shutting her out of his mind and cutting her off from any knowledge of what might happen.
He threw the gun a slight distance away and did a quick, but thorough search for any other weapons. The only other thing the man had on him was a camera. Lev crouched down beside him.
"Who is he?"
"No wallet. Must have left it home while he came snooping around," Stefan said. "Tell me your name."
The man spat at him.
Stefan yanked the broken wrist hard in instant retaliation. The scream was explosive, but muffled as Lev clamped his hand over the man's mouth. Stefan stared down into the intruder's eyes.
"You need to know something about me. I know more ways to inflict pain than any other man you will ever meet. We can do this hard or easy, but we're going to do it. I was very gentle with you. Your name."
"Mike," the man mumbled. "Mike Shariton."
Stefan tossed the camera to Lev. "Take a look." He glanced down at the intruder. "See how polite I can be? I'm not giving you the opportunity to lie."
Lev studied the images. "All the pictures are of Judith. The first ones were taken with you and Judith outside the gallery. He didn't get a shot of your face, but they look . . . compromising." He passed the camera to Stefan.
The photograph was taken when he was locking the gallery door, Judith's body imprisoned between his body and the door. He handed the camera back to Lev.
"You work for La Roux." He made it a statement.
Shariton didn't respond, but the truth was in his eyes and his swiftly drawn breath.
"You sent those pictures to someone already, didn't you?"
Shariton was a little slow in responding and Stefan went for his wrist, this time slower, giving the man time to think about how it would feel all over again.
"Yes. Yes. Last night. I sent them last night," Shariton blurted out. "I was hired to take the photographs and send them to a man by the name of Badeaux, a guard at a prison in Paris. I send the pictures to him and he takes them to a prisoner."
"Which prisoner?"
"Jean-Claude La Roux."
Stefan hadn't wanted to hear it, but he'd known the moment he saw the camera. "Maybe you should go on home," Stefan said to his brother. "I'll take it from here."
Lev shook his head. "We have to turn him over to Jonas. I'll have Rikki call him. They'll get him on felony charges and . . ."
"He'll be out of jail before the night's over," Stefan said. Go home, Lev. I can't let this man threaten Judith.
If you're serious about her, this is no way to start a new life. We'll let Jonas handle it.
Shariton remained absolutely still as if he knew his life hung in the balance and it probably did. He was a petty criminal, but he'd been around men who were lethal long enough to recognize them.
"If we call the sheriff, you know he's going to make bail."
Lev nodded. "Exactly. And off the propert
y. We can go hunting then."
Stefan understood what Lev was doing immediately. Shariton was listening attentively. Fear had a smell and the man was perspiring profusely. Shariton knew nothing really. They couldn't get much more out of him. He carried a gun, but he wasn't very adept at using it. He was too scared to come back and retaliate against Judith.
"His gun's over there," Stefan indicated with a small nod of his head. "Let's just get comfortable and wait for the law." He nudged Shariton. "You can make bail, can't you?"
Shariton stayed frozen, obviously too scared to move.
"What he's saying to you, Shariton, is," Lev added, looking right into his eyes, "own up to what you did here, and who you're doing it for. Take a plea and you're safe. If it goes any other way, nothing will stop us from hunting you down. Do we understand each other?"
Shariton nodded his head vigorously.
Jonas is a good man, but a hard-ass. He'll come in by the book, red lights, guns, and he'll take us down and check us for weapons. Walk away and stash whatever you need to, but make it far from here, because he'll do a thorough search. We won't have much time, Lev advised.
Stefan nodded. I was careful because I knew I'd be with Judith. Not much to find.
He left his brother with Mike Shariton while he slipped away from the area to rid himself of the knife concealed in his boot. The garrote sewn into his jeans wouldn't be detected. He was much more reluctant to part with his favorite gun, but he wasn't about to get caught with it on him and try to find a plausible explanation. Being armed would simply complicate matters.
Sirens in the distance told him it wouldn't be long. He was a shadow, nothing more, a ghost that disappeared as if he'd never been. Staying was more difficult than he'd expected. Lifelong training ingrained in him the need to vanish as if he'd never been. Lev sat waiting, looking back toward his home, as if it was only his woman who kept him in place, a caged tiger waiting for dogs to snap at his heels.
You sure this is the way?
Lev shrugged. It's my way now. This is my home. I abide by the laws as much as I can. This one is easy enough. Jonas is a fair man. You have to make your choice, Stefan. If you choose to make your stand here, I'll help you, but if you're going to walk, do it now before Judith gets hurt.
Judith. He could easily kill for her. But enduring the indignity of allowing someone to trap him even briefly--that was a test he hadn't expected.
Two sheriff's cars plowed over the grass, divided, one on either side of them, hemming them in. The vehicles skidded to a halt, the sirens blaring and lights flashing. Driver doors popped open and weapons appeared.
"On the ground. I want to see your hands."
Lev immediately complied, kneeling, hands outstretched, palms facing the officer. "I'm armed, Jonas. Gun's in the shoulder harness and my knife's in my boot," he called out.
"Put your hands behind your head."
Lev did so, linking his fingers. Stefan hesitated. The officer behind them had remained silent and he didn't have a good sight on him. He didn't like being so exposed, or vulnerable.
Get down, Stefan, Lev hissed.
Very slowly he knelt, his hands outstretched to show they were empty. His gut knotted. He detested the indignity of it.
Shariton obviously knew the drill. He rolled to his knees, struggling to raise his hands.
"I'm going to put you in handcuffs, Levi, for our safety and yours." The officer--presumably Jonas--held his gun very steady without moving position.
The officer approached from behind and reached for Lev's wrist, drawing first one, and then the other behind his back. It was impossible to see with the glare of the headlights, a deliberate move to blind them, but Lev remained passive while the deputy removed the gun from Lev's shoulder harness and the knife from his boot before thoroughly searching him as well.
Stefan hadn't allowed anyone to manhandle him since he was a boy. He could feel the need to survive, the drive to fight building relentlessly. For a moment he couldn't breathe and something lethal unfolded inside of him.
It's just handcuffs, Stefan, Lev's calm voice filled his mind. You know you could kill either of them if you needed to, even with the cuffs on. In any case, you can get them off in seconds. Just cooperate. It will be over soon.
Stefan fought back the memories of beatings. Of betrayal. When he was twelve he was dropped into Siberia and told to survive, that someone would return for him only if every single one of the men hunting him were dead. He had no idea of how many men were planning to kill him or even if there were men. The ice rained down and the temperature was so cold his blood felt like ice water flowing through his veins. He had no food and only a knife, with no idea of the size of his enemies or when they would come at him.
He couldn't trust anyone. What was he doing, allowing a man to come up behind him? His breath burned in his lungs. His heart accelerated. He could take the deputy coming up behind him, but the headlights were blinding him and he couldn't see the exact position of the officer behind the door. He hadn't moved, hadn't stepped out of position and the gun had never wavered.
Thomas, talk to me. What's wrong? I can feel something's wrong.
Shockingly, Judith breached the space between them. The surge of energy was powerful, so powerful, electricity snapped and crackled audibly and the hair on their bodies stood up. He wasn't the only one who felt it. Both officers and Lev looked warily around them. Fortunately, he was the only one to hear her.
Thomas, I'm coming out. Are you hurt?
How did he answer that? She showed concern now, but the moment this was over, she would most likely run from him--and he couldn't blame her. Losing her was going to be worse than all the tortures he'd endured, all the survival games he'd been forced to play.
Stay in the house. The sheriff is here.
Why are you so cold?
The officer behind him grabbed his left wrist. It was now or never. He knew exactly every pressure point, every vulnerable target on the man. He took a breath and relaxed his hand, allowing his wrist to be cuffed and pulled behind him.
They're handcuffing me. I'm not good with this kind of thing.
That much was the truth. The last time he'd had his hands tied he'd been beaten senseless and burned in long patterns all over his body--a reminder not to ever let an enemy take control of him. He broke out in a sweat as the officer caught his other wrist.
Thomas, I'm so sorry. I'll come out. Jonas will listen to me.
No! He couldn't bear for her to see him this way. On the ground. Cuffed. Vulnerable. She couldn't see him this way. He would never be able to maintain his control.
The deputy was thorough in his search, but he didn't find the garrote, or the small pin he had shoved into his thumb.
Tell me what I can do.
Hearing her voice had tipped the scales, allowing him to try his brother's way. You've already done it by distracting me. I'm fine now. We'll talk later. He didn't know if that was a plea, a threat or a command.
When she was gone, all her potent energy dissipating as fast as it had surrounded him, he felt entirely alone. She filled him up with her light, that compassion and spirit that was wholly Judith--the one she tried so desperately to suppress. Every part of him that was insubstantial, no more than a transparent phantom, she brought back to life. Without her, he was back in the cold, in the shadows, where so long ago, Sorbacov had shaped him into the ghost he'd become.
"This one is injured," the deputy said as he helped Shariton to his feet.
"Secure him in the squad car and take his statement. I'll talk to these two."
Jonas Harrington was a man with a few secrets of his own. His energy, hot and bright, reached Stefan well in advance of the officer. Tall with sun-bleached hair and very focused, sea blue eyes, he crossed to them with long, confident strides. He looked a man to be careful around, but more, he felt like a man to be cautious around and Stefan always paid attention to his warning system.
Stefan recognized Jonas's deputy imme
diately, from the papers years ago in their homeland, although they'd never formerly crossed paths. This man had grown up in the state-run home with the youngest Prakenskii. He'd been a formidable police detective in Russia and later, like Ilya, had worked for Interpol.
Aleksandr Volstov had midnight blue eyes and dark wavy hair. Stefan read lethal all over him. He glanced at Lev with a raised eyebrow. Lev shook his head, indicating he hadn't met Volstov as of yet, but recognized the man from his pictures in the newspapers in Russia when he'd worked as a detective.
Volstov's gaze sharpened when he saw Lev, his gaze flicking quickly to Jonas. Harrington gave a small shake of his head, but Stefan caught it.
He recognized you, Lev. He's from Russia.
I know. Let it be.
"Sir, I'm going to put you in my car just while I talk to Levi."
Stefan didn't respond. He concentrated on remaining passive. It took discipline to walk to the car and slide into the backseat. He'd been a prisoner more than once, but he'd been young and much more trusting back then. One betrayal had been a man he'd considered his best friend. He would have turned on his trainers before he would have followed the order to outwit and kill his friend, yet Uri, no more than a boy--a teenager--had waited until his back was turned and struck. At the last moment, Stefan had seen the attack coming in the reflection of a window. He had thrown himself to one side and still carried the scar where the knife went in deep.
He stared out the window at his brother and the cop. He could read lips and, with the lights still on, he could see both men easily.
"Tell me what happened, Levi," Jonas instructed Lev.
Lev shrugged casually, his expression completely closed. "Judith invited a stranger over and I watched him." He was unapologetic. "Just to be safe I was armed. I didn't really know much about him so I waited until he went to leave and struck up a conversation. We were walking, talking about his business and we spotted a man hiding up on that small knoll just above Judith's house, hiding in the trees there. He was making a racket, must have gotten spooked by the owls nesting there. He's all torn up."