Return of the Assassin (All the King's Men) (12 page)

Because the minute I leave is the minute you go six feet under, big guy.

* * *

Micah stood outside the training center, his back against the wall. His chest ached as he grimaced and heard every thought hammering through Malek's head. Malek was getting worse. At least before, he knew at some level that he and the voice inside his head were one and the same and acknowledged how crazy it was that he was talking to himself. But now? Now he saw The Voice as an outsider, not part of him.

If Malek survived the next twenty-four hours, it would be a miracle. Because all the will in the world couldn't save him, anymore. Malek was a dead man walking.

Jacob pressed the intercom button for Brak's quarters in the basement. "Cynthia, is he back yet?"

Brak had been gone for over an hour. Something was wrong.

"No. He's still out-of-body," Cynthia's voice answered.

"Shit." Haslet shoved himself off the wall he'd been leaning against on outstretched arms.

"Hold it together, Haslet. We've got to get out of here." Jacob shoved more clothes in his duffel. This was no time to fall apart. They needed to keep their wits about them, pack up, and get out. And then burn the place down so that Brak's body went up in flames. That was the only way to guarantee their safety if Brak had figured out they had sold Maddox and could no longer hold him over Brak's head.

"He knows. I can feel it." Haslet paced and cursed under his breath.

"Shut up."

"Fuck you, Jacob! We have nothing to hold over him anymore." Haslet marched to the door. "I'm calling Bishop."

"Why?" Jacob zipped his duffel and dropped it on the floor.

"It's the only bargaining chip we've got."

He grabbed Haslet by the arms and shoved him against the wall. "No. We leave. We burn the place down and we escape. It's the only way to be sure."

Haslet shoved Jacob off of him. "I'm not willing to throw all this away, Jacob. We worked too hard. Brak doesn't know where we are. We've never given him anything of ours to enable him to find us. You know he needs a marker or some kind of totem before he can hunt someone down."

"Oh? And what do you think he's doing, Haslet? Taking a stroll through the park? No. He's looking for us."

"You don't know that." Haslet spun on his heel and started for the stairs. "Get a grip, Jacob. He can't stay gone forever. Sooner or later he'll need to return to his body, or he'll die. I'm calling Bishop. Let me see if I can work out an arrangement with him."

What Haslet said made sense, but it didn't ease Jacob's mind. He had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

Cynthia swept her gaze from Brak's head to his feet and back up again. Hope lit in her heart. Had he found a way out? Was he coming for the evil ones? Her mother, Brak's previous caretaker and a mystic, had foreseen this.
When Brak leaves and does not return, give him the keys to freedom,
she had said.
He will be able to free himself, and you with him.
Then she had given Cynthia two coins and nodded once, a harsh jerk of her head as if the coins were important.

She had carried those coins with her every day since, disguised as a pair of earrings. She'd had them melted down and remolded into simple, large studs, and each time she visited Brak for one of his jobs, she wore them in case that was the day to grant Brak his freedom.

Was it time? Had Brak's day for freedom finally come?

She waited another ten minutes and finally decided this was it. It was time to set Brak free.

With a smile on her face, she unfastened each earring, closed them in her loose fist, and said a quick prayer before uncurling Brak's fingers and placing the plain earrings in his palm.

She leaned forward as she closed his hand around the earrings. "Brak." She placed her hand over his and settled in close, her mouth next to his ear. "Brak. It's time. Time for your freedom."

* * *

Brak heard Cynthia's voice from what sounded like far away and realized she was talking to him.

Freedom?

Then he felt two small objects in his hand. They were small and round. Buttons? No. They were earrings.

Connecting with them, he catapulted into another traveling tunnel. He flew faster than the speed of light and crossed hundreds of miles in an instant until he landed inside a vast home in the middle of nowhere. Jacob passed in front of him, his expression worried.

From across the room, Haslet spoke on the phone. "What do you mean, you no longer have him? Where is he?"

Brak flashed to Haslet's side. Who was he talking to? And did the conversation have to do with his father?

Haslet's face paled. "Then the deal's off, Bishop. This was not part of the arrangement. You were supposed to keep Maddox—"

Bishop's voice shot through the phone, so loud Brak could hear him. "Do not tell me what I was supposed to do with something I had purchased, Haslet! I owned Maddox once you sold him to me. Do you think I like that his son found my lab and took him?"

"Of course not, but—"

"I lost my entire operation, you disgusting worm! And you dare to challenge me about your phantom's father?"

"You should have told us—"

"I owed you no explanations! I owned him."

"But we could have—"

"You could have done nothing. You made your choice. You sold Maddox to me for a handsome price. And now we're both out a valuable commodity. You'll have to deal with your own problems, as I must deal with mine. Consider our arrangement null and void."

The line went dead and Haslet slowly lowered the phone to the table, his face pale.

So, they had sold his father to a male named Bishop, huh? And this Bishop owned the lab where Trace had found him. And it sounded like Trace had worked his powers to destroy that wretched den of hell. Good for him. And now Brak would unleash a little wrath of his own.

Brak leaned toward Haslet. "You're dead, motherfucker." Brak had never been so angry, and pure hatred rushed through his normally gentle psyche.

Not bothering to be careful, Brak plunged both hands inside Haslet's body, grabbed either side of his ribcage, and pulled. Bones snapped like dry branches, and his heart and lungs ruptured as Brak smashed his hands together.

Haslet's limbs flailed briefly as his eyes flew open, and then his body fell slack and hung like wet laundry from Brak's invisible arms in a gurgling, sputtering heap.

"Oh my God!"

Brak turned to see Jacob's colorless face, his eyes so wide it was a wonder his eyeballs didn't fall out.

Let's see if I can help him with that.

Brak yanked his arms from Haslet's corpse and shot across the room as Haslet dropped to the floor. Before Jacob could flee through the front door, he closed his fist around Jacob's forearm. The vampire screamed like a terrified maiden as he recoiled and swatted his arm as if batting away wasps.

"No, please, no! I tried to stop him. I tried to tell him not to. I swear! Please don't kill me. Oh God, please!"

Brak didn't believe a word of what Jacob said. "You made me believe you had my father! You tortured us both and used me, threatening to hurt him if I didn't do as you told me to. And you don't even have him! You sold him like meat and kept me imprisoned." Rage burned Brak's soul as he shoved his right hand inside Jacob's skull and clamped down on his brain.

"No! Please!" Jacob cried out as he slapped his palms to his head. His fingers clawed as if trying to dig through his skull to tear Brak's hand from his brain. He squirmed, groaned, and screeched in pain, but Brak held on and squeezed. This was one death he wouldn't soothe away with tender words uttered in guilt. Brak would savor this kill for what the bastard had done.

Jacob's gray matter gave and squished through his fingers, and the vampire's body jerked as his cranial synapses misfired and chewed through his nervous system from the cataclysm destroying his brain.

"Die, you fucking son of a whore." Jacob's brain collapsed under Brak's palm, and then he lowered his grip to the cervical bones in his neck. Brak took hold and pulled, and Jacob's spine ripped from his body in a reenactment of a scene in the movie,
Predator
, where the alien ripped out the spine of his victim.

Predator
was one of Brak's favorite movies. Only…he had always fancied himself the hero…like Arnold Schwarzenegger's character. Well, not today. Today, he was all angry, pissed off alien.

He threw Jacob's spine across the room and dropped his body to the floor as adrenaline surged through his ethereal spirit.

His servitude was over.

With a thought, he returned to his body, and his eyes snapped open. "I'm free."

"You're free." Cynthia's eyes lit as her entire face smiled.

Then Brak rolled to his side and vomited.

After arriving in Chicago, Gina and Trevor took a cab to the Trump Hotel and spent the day inside the safety of their drapery-darkened rooms.

The Trump was where she had stayed before. When she'd hunted Severin. She had met Lakota there, too, in the lobby. Talk about reliving the recent past.

Around midmorning, as she debated the pros and cons for the tenth time about whether or not she should follow Trevor's advice and give Malek a chance, she had another panic attack. She had almost decided to revert to her original plan and forget about the whole letting-her-hair-fly-in-the-wind-while-she-ran idea when the first tremors fluttered behind her sternum. Before she knew it, her entire chest flamed with pain, and stabs of agony attacked her heart and lungs. She ended up with her head over the toilet as breakfast became nothing more than a memory.

Thankfully Trevor hadn't witnessed her gastronomic eruption and yet another unraveling so close on the heels of the previous one. Gina didn't need him giving her anymore speeches.

After calming down enough to take a shower, she had ordered another breakfast—a much lighter one—slipped into her pajamas, and turned on a movie. With Neo and Trinity parading around in slick leather trench coats and carrying enough firepower to level a city, Gina contemplated her options again. Take a chance with Malek. Tell Malek to get lost. Take a chance. Get lost. It was like plucking petals from a daisy. Like she was playing Rock, Paper, Scissors with herself. Hell, maybe she should just flip a coin and make her decision that way.

As Neo flew up into the sky at the end of the movie, Gina closed her eyes and groaned. Fine, she would follow Trevor's advice. She wouldn't tell Malek to get lost—at least not at first. She would go to him, see how things played out, and if warning lights didn't go off, she would allow herself to test the waters. Just test them. She wasn't committing to anything, and she wouldn't until she gathered more evidence one way or the other.

If nothing else, her disastrous fail with Severin had taught her to get all the facts before making important decisions. And whether or not Malek was good mate material was about as important a decision as they came.

But one slip—just one red flag—and Malek was history. That was her compromise to herself—her out clause.

Now it was nightfall, and after taking yet another shower to wake her tired ass up, she put on black cargo pants, boots, and a black cotton sweater that zipped from her neck down to midchest. She left the zipper open, not liking how constrictive the sweater felt around her neck when it was zipped up.

A knock came at her door, and after a check of her hair, which was more of a nervous habit and a way to disguise her distress than vanity, she opened up.

"You ready?" Trevor said, looking too dashing for a trip to AKM in his black pants and pullover that hugged every muscle in his chest and arms.

Her heart raced, and she tapped her palms together nervously. She was going back to AKM. A place where she was certain to have more enemies than friends. But if her problems were going to go away, this was where she had to start searching for answers.

Trevor grabbed her wrist and rubbed her pulse point. "God, your heart rate is through the roof. Calm down, sis. I'll be with you, okay? Nothing bad is going to happen."

She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath, then nodded abruptly. "I know. I know."

He pulled her against him and hugged her as he rocked her side to side. "I've never seen you like this," he said into her hair. "You're so nervous. When did you stop being such a tough ass?"

"Screw you." She gave him a light warning slap on the arm. "I'm still tough."

"Well, show me then." He squeezed her. "Let me see that badass female I've come to know so well."

But she couldn't. Not right now. She closed her eyes and spoke quietly. "She's taking a short break right now." She held him tightly, her fingers curled into claws that dug into his back. If she could just pull on his strength, she might be able to hold it together long enough to get through this first night.

Trevor chuckled. "Come here." He pushed her back into her room and closed the door then pulled her wrist to his mouth. "Maybe this will help calm you down."

He bit into her wrist and released his venom into her as he took her blood. Calm instantly swept through her, and she weaved forward and rested her head against his shoulder as euphoria fed her like a drug.

She sighed. Yes, this was much better. Tension oozed out of her neck and shoulders, and warmth flooded her belly. There was nothing sexual about the act, but by the very nature of euphoria, she felt her libido stir.

After another few seconds, he pulled away and the bite mark healed.

"Better?" he said, wrapping one arm around her and smoothing his palm up and down her back.

With her head still against his shoulder, she nodded. "Yes. Thank you. But Ms. Badass is still on break."

"Okay then." He grinned. "Well, maybe she'll be back soon."

Gina nodded. Getting her old self back was exactly why she was here. The persona of victimized weakling with bad aim and a panic problem didn't sit well with her. If she couldn't be the resilient, hard-ass assassin she had been before, then she might as well dig a hole, lie down in it, and pull the dirt over her own body. She couldn't live the rest of her life in her current condition.

Trevor held her a moment longer. Then he pulled away and took her hand. "Okay, let's do this."

They left the hotel and took a cab to the storage garage she had rented that held all the things she had left behind. Clothes, weapons, personal effects, and her Jeep.

She was still feeling loose and more or less relaxed as she got behind the wheel and started up the engine. "AKM isn't far from here."

Within minutes, they were pulling into the parking lot she had come to know so well during her nights of surveillance.

Trevor took her hand, squeezed it, and led her inside.

"May I help you?" the female behind the reception desk said.

Behind her was a locked door that led into the beast's belly. She trembled and Trevor gave her another reassuring squeeze before releasing her hand and pulling out his credentials.

"I'm from the Knights of Justice in Miami," he said, flashing a security card and a badge.

Even though the king no longer recognized the Knights as being a part of AKM, he still allowed them access inside AKM facilities around the world. Trevor and his team couldn't call themselves King's Men, but they could at least enjoy the benefits of being part of his posse of protectors.

Trevor continued, "We're here to see Micah Black. This is Gina Carano. Micah has requested her presence."

The female eyed her curiously and took Trevor's credentials. "I'll need to verify your status." She turned toward her computer.

"Of course." Trevor looked over his shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile, but she got the impression he just wanted to check on her and make sure she was still holding herself together.

She nodded shortly at him. She was okay. For now.

A moment later, the female slid Trevor's credentials back across the counter. "Welcome to Chicago, Mr. Knight."

"Thank you."

"Micah just started his team meeting, but I'll have someone come and take you back. It might take a couple of minutes, if you want to have a seat."

"That's okay. We're fine."

Gina paced away from the desk. A display of awards and accolades hung on the far wall, mostly glorifying AKM's more human pursuits. Even though AKM's primary objective was to monitor dreck activity, the agency fronted as a private security and detective service to blend in with human society. They also held a division of emergency responders. Enforcers assisted in bounty hunting, drug enforcement, criminal investigations, as well as in emergencies including entrapment and rescue, among other noble pursuits. At least, noble by human standards. Day walkers allowed AKM to operate around the clock, day or night, seven days a week.

When she had been an enforcer, she hadn't been involved much with the more human component of AKM's work. Her specialty was surveillance and elimination, and she had belonged to a special four-man team in Atlanta. Then Gabe died and, well, she saw where striking out on her own as a solo assassin had gotten her.

She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself, and Trevor took her wrist again and rubbed his thumb up and down her vein. "Ssshhh," he whispered. "Relax, Gina."

She gazed into his brown eyes, flecked with green and silver. "I'm trying."

He smiled down at her and winked. "Just remember I'm here."

And thank God for that.

After a few minutes, a mousy, dark-haired female with large blue eyes and wearing a faded, chunky sweater and long, flowing skirt—both of which looked like something out of the late 80s—entered the reception area. Shy didn't even begin to describe her.

"Mr. Knight? Ms. Carano?"

Gina had to strain to hear her, she spoke so softly.

"Yes." Trevor paced forward, and Gina followed.

"I'm Eva." The female ducked her head and looked down at her feet, which bore simple, brown flats that looked worse for the wear. "Follow me, please."

She and Trevor fell into step behind Eva, who seemed to glide along quietly ahead of them, head down, arms in front of her, as if she was used to keeping herself invisible.

When they stopped in front of Tristan's office, Gina had to lean in to hear Eva speak.

"This is Micah's office," Eva said without turning around.

Gina exchanged glances with Trevor and frowned. "I thought this was Tristan's office?" When she was here before, this was where she had met with Tristan.

Eva was about to knock but paused and turned her head toward them, keeping her gaze on the floor. "Tristan is on leave. Micah took over for him."

"Oh." Unease filtered down Gina's spine, but she didn't know why. Maybe because Micah had been on her ass to return, and now that he was in charge, maybe that meant she wasn't in the clear for her actions against Severin and Lakota after all. Who really knew? But knowing Micah was in charge now did change the situation.

Eva knocked then opened the door. "I'm sorry to interrupt. Micah, you have guests." She shuffled aside, head down.

Gina took a step forward. Micah slowly rose from behind his desk as three sets of eyes fell on her.

"What the fuck is she doing here?" Lakota burst from one of the chairs, knocking it over in his anger.

Trevor jumped in front of her, while Severin and Micah lunged for Lakota before he could get his hands around her throat.

Well, shit. So much for a warm welcome.

And where in the hell was Malek?