"I said not to look," he snapped. "Just do as I say. You need to obey me when I tell you to do something. I don't just say it to hear myself talk."
She pressed her face into his back without speaking, and he found himself sighing softly. Once into the corridor he closed the hatch, took her a few more feet away from the blood splatter and set her down.
"Are you all right?"
She didn't look at him. "Yes. I'm sorry, I didn't try to look, not like you think. I wasn't curious, it was more confirmation."
It cost her to admit the truth. She needed to see a body to know he had actually fought off Saeed's men and it wasn't some kind of elaborate game he was playing with her. She was actually embarrassed that she had doubted him for a moment.
"No harm done. I would have done the same thing." Of course, he was a skeptical man and didn't believe a third of what anyone said to him.
"The weird thing is, I trust you. And that scares me. I don't trust so easily and it's hard for me to get to know anyone or even talk very much to outsiders, but the more I'm in your company, the more I feel comfortable and that's just so strange."
He saw that she kept a grip on her assault rifle. "I understand. I'm having those same strange feelings. It's the situation. We only have one another to rely on." Which was a great line of bullshit, but he delivered it in a reasonable tone.
Some of the panic left her eyes, and she nodded. "I guess you're right. The situation certainly is unusual and very intense. Where are we going now?"
"I'm killing Saeed. I've been after him for over five years and I've never had a better chance. I'm not missing the opportunity." He'd be damned if he made apologies either. She said she wanted to help him, but she'd seen the blood on the floor and bodies lying in the cabin.
"Are there others on board? Others like Saeed?" She stayed right behind him as they moved toward the stairs.
"I studied the layout before coming aboard. There are seven luxury cabins, so potentially, that could be six other sexual predators aboard. They will all have bodyguards, although I suspect not quite as many as Saeed."
"Did you know this was a floating human trafficking vessel?"
"I suspected. There was no way to know until I actually got aboard ship. I wasn't told about any special passengers, only that sometimes the rich and famous are bored enough to pay lots of money for the privilege of traveling on a cargo vessel."
They kept their voices projecting only to each other, that thin thread of sound that connected them. He found he wanted that connection with her, even there, in the middle of a very dangerous situation.
"How many crew?"
"Including the cooks, twenty-one, and there is a security force that Evan keeps aboard. There're eight of them."
"Great. We might be a little outnumbered."
"No problem, baby, that's my specialty."
She touched the back of his shirt. He knew she didn't mean for him to feel the barely there brush of her fingers, but he did. He felt the impact all the way to his bones. She was seeking reassurance, that was all, nothing more, but he felt as if she belonged to him. She had been under his protection for her father's sake, but he knew that was no longer the reason he watched over her. Selfishly, he wanted her alive in the same world with him.
"I wish I could be more of a help to you," Airiana said. "This isn't my specialty, but I'm good at following orders."
He glanced over his shoulder at her, one eyebrow raised.
"When I want to," Airiana corrected.
He put his hand on the railing of the stairs. "We go up slow and easy. Stay directly behind me and try to step where I step. Don't make a sound."
Airiana twisted her fingers into his shirt, bunching the material into her fist. He wanted to give her that much. It would be a small comfort, but he knew he had to be able to move fast when necessary.
"Honey, you're going to have to let go. I'll watch out for you. I will, but . . ."
She dropped her hand away as if he'd slapped her. He cursed under his breath in his own language. He wasn't suave or sophisticated. All the training, all the beatings had never made him into someone different. He could pass himself off as those things, but he was a rough, dominant man whose every instinct was that of a killer.
Airiana needed reassurance, and he found himself baffled by her. She followed him closely, but she didn't touch him again. Her shoes whispered on the metal stairs, but she contained the sound, every bit as adept in that gift as he was.
It didn't surprise him that no one came to challenge them--this was Saeed's luxury cabin and as paranoid as he was, he wouldn't want anyone, not even a crew member, disturbing him. He brought his own security with him and they would keep everyone away.
He signaled to Airiana to move up to his side.
6
KNOWING a depraved monster was just on the other side of the hatch kept Airiana's stomach churning. She pressed her hand over the knots and took a deep calming breath. She didn't know why she believed in Maxim Prakenskii, but she did. He exuded absolute confidence, and somehow, that gave her the strength to stay by his side.
Maxim took the MP-5 from her hand and laid it on top of his war bag, just to one side of the hatch, so when the door opened, no one could see it.
She let out her breath and twisted her fingers together, feeling naked and vulnerable without the weapon.
Maxim caught her hand for the briefest of moments. Her fingers trembled inside of his, and he pressed his thumb into the exact center of her palm. She felt the touch over her heart. Startled, she looked up at him, her gaze colliding with his. He had amazing eyes, brooding and hooded. Sexy. Dangerous. He was all those things and more.
He lifted one eyebrow. "Are you ready for this?"
She nodded her head. Who could ever really be ready to face a monster?
Maxim called on the air surrounding them. He blew out his breath in a circle around their bodies. Instantly she felt the difference, as if the air was heavier, much denser in the passageway. She actually could see it shimmering between them, distorting his features until he looked a little shorter, more compact and his shaggy, wild hair was glossy and polished.
He tapped on the hatch, a one-two signal repeated four times in rapid succession. Clearly he knew the right code, because the hatch began to creak and groan as someone inside slowly opened it. Maxim didn't move aside, but stood firmly in the center of the opening, transferring his hold from her hand to her arm.
"The others are dead, Saeed, but I brought her to you." Maxim spoke in a perfect replica of Shamar's voice.
Saeed's robed figure filled the doorway. The robe was open and his bloated body gleamed with oil. He rubbed his hands together gleefully, leering at Airiana, not even looking at his bodyguard or acknowledging that the men who had served him for years were dead.
She shuddered and forced herself not to move closer to Maxim for protection. Bile rose. The prince was disgusting, his face pure evil. She was afraid if she looked at him too long, she'd throw up. She gave her brain another problem to work on, pushing out fear to try to mathematically understand how Maxim had managed to distort the air until his own features resembled those of another human being. The voice was easy enough, but to be able to change appearances, that was exceptional.
She kept her head resolutely down, working the probabilities in her mind, trying to find a theory that would explain how he'd done such an incredible feat, anything to keep her mind away from what might happen to her if Saeed actually got his hands on her.
Chuckling, pleased with his victory, the prince turned his head to look over his shoulder. "All is well, Sasha. You can have that little used one and leave me alone for a few hours." He sounded smug and magnanimous.
Maxim thrust Airiana behind him and struck fast, a blur of movement, whipping a garrote around Saeed's throat as he spun him around to face the inside of the cabin. He twisted the thin wire mercilessly while the prince thrashed and fought.
Sasha rushed to his aid, dragging a n
aked child of about ten in front of him, holding a gun to her head. She cried continually, terror on her face and bruises on her body. There were thin knife cuts across her small torso.
"I'll kill her, Maxim, let him go."
The child called out in Italian, "Let him kill me. Don't let that pig go."