The Dark Duet (9 page)

Alese: I will. At practice tomorrow.

Alese: And stop yelling in caps.

Me: Sorry.

Alese: Do you accept?

Clever little dove. I am intrigued, so I would agree to anything, and I suspect she knows this. There’s a reason Rudolph has chosen this woman as his new negotiator, and I am beginning to understand why.

Me: I do.

Me: Now, on to my prize.

Alese: Patience, Sir Belikov.

Me: Never.

Alese: LOL

The form returns to the window, only this time Alese opens the thin shade and briefly glances my way, searching the bushes around me. I get a full view of her glorious body as she removes her bra and underwear, her movements alone stirring the lust inside of me. Even though her show only serves to tease me, the small glimpse runs circles around the pitiful attempts of the Extasia dancers who attempted to ease my mind.

I choose to remain hidden, even though my fascination with watching her is no longer a secret.

Am I capable of stopping this? Of stopping these feelings for her? Do I truly wish to do so? I must find a way; if not for my own insatiable need to tempt danger, then for her safety. Gash and his idiotic sidekick made it clear where Rudolph stands when it comes to me getting involved with Alese on a personal level, which I should never have allowed to become an issue. Tomorrow, I will avoid her during practice, and whatever payment I have to make for tonight’s exhibition will be awarded and forgotten.

CHAPTER 11

~
Alese~

Nikolai dodges me throughout the entire practice the next day. Our show, Maleficent, is starting to come together and Nikolai dances like a man possessed. I cannot believe he made me do what I did last night. Then again, I have the feeling this man can make a woman do anything he wishes, and with someone like Nikolai Belikov in control of my future, that scares me for some reason. Nevertheless, he is flawless as he dances onstage, his body a vessel of music, muscle, and emotion. I’m in awe of him, yet something about his body reminds me of someone else.

I turn toward my group mates, trying my best to concentrate on the sheets of music I’ve been given by our conductor, Yuri. If Sir Belikov wants to play hard ass, then I can most definitely return the favor.

As his set comes to an end, he glances my way while the Tomczak girls hang all over him, making me think the rumors I’ve heard about him spending more than just a bit of practice time with his dancers ring with truth.

Oh just ask him out and stop being a chicken shit.

Yeah, sure I can do that, and what happens when he rejects me and tells me why I shouldn’t be hitting on the man turning me into a killer?

I work extra hard to ignore him, even going as far as flirting with Paolo, Nikolai’s flamboyant, but talented lead dance instructor. Plus, I woke up with the headache from hell this morning, and I’m pretty sure I’ve overdosed on Advil. A wave of dizziness washes over me. I grip the sides of my violin, closing my eyes and grounding myself.

“Are you all right, Ballentine?” Julia, my fellow violinist, asks, her face blurring in and out.
Oh shit. I’m so going to kiss the floor. What the hell?

“Sure I am,” I lie, my tongue tasting dry and feeling thick at the same time. Meanwhile, my head gets lighter as though someone inserted helium inside of my brain.

“I don’t know. You’re like turning green.”

I attempt to respond, but instead, the room starts spinning and nausea rises up in my throat. The next thing I know, the darkness surges in from both sides of my vision and shouting erupts around me.

I fall into a dream-vision. I’m lying in bed with a gorgeous man as he kisses me deeply, the same one who frequents my dreams. From the way he’s kissing me and the intense sensations flowing through my body, I can tell he’s no stranger. I run my hands through his dark, wavy hair, pulling back to glance into kind, blue eyes that are the tiniest bit slanted along the edges, marveling over his plump lips, which are swollen from all of our kissing.

The dream progresses further as I get up to make him eggs—sunny side up, his favorite way—and he tells me that he’s going to check the mail. As I attempt to walk away, he pulls me backward, so that my ass is pressed against him, kissing the back of my neck as he does so. The gesture both tickles and turns me on, and I can feel the love inside of my heart. There’s a knock at the door.

What is this thing I’m inside? A dream? A vision? It feels so real.

“I’ll get it, love,” he says in a British accent, making it the first time I have ever heard him speak. As he pulls away and walks out of the kitchen toward the front door, a strong sense of dread slams into me. I know something bad is about to happen, yet I don’t know how I can sense this. A terrific crash roars through the front room, and I can hear men scuffling and fighting.

I drop the vase of flowers I’m holding and reach into the drawer beside the refrigerator, pulling out a gun. I cock the barrel and rush toward the living room, my heart thudding inside of my chest, panic fueling the urge to defend the man who just left me.

Time slows down, stealing my ability to learn the truth, yet again. I don’t reach him, because the dream goes black.

Rudolph Burkenstein

“Things are going smoothly,” Rudolph Burkenstein says to Vladimir, his boss and old friend. The man rescued him from a life of poverty and anonymity after serving his stint as a spy for the CIA’s international division during the Gulf War. Once his treachery had been discovered, Rudolph knew he had to decide whether he would stay and face the wrath of the Americans who had hired him, despite his German heritage, or if he would take the offer provided by the man whom he was originally contracted to take down. The answer was simple, but his need to become a household name, that slippery little demon known as ambition, was too great to resist. In America, he faced a life of servitude, but under the leadership of a man who had continued to elude the governments and Special Forces units of several countries he was destined to become a legend.

“I assume you’ve already considered the ramifications of this plan? How your two little experiments could turn on you?”

“Indeed,” says the dark voice on the other end of the line. “I’m fully aware of Nikolai’s obsession with revenge. However, that isn’t any of your concern. Is the girl, the one you call Ghost, ready for her debut?” Vladimir’s heavily accented voice asks. Burkenstein swallows hard. He had wanted to make sure the girl would live up to his boss’s expectations before sending word of her readiness, but now, the eager yet impatient voice on the other end of his phone line—his silence cutting through to the core of Burkenstein’s fears even more so than his words—is pressuring him for an answer.

“I assure you, she will be properly trained in time to perform her required ... uh ... duties,” Rudolph confirms.

“And those duties would be what?” he asks in a measured tone. Rudolph doesn’t fail to hear the change, the darkness inside the question.

“To bring down the last five informants,” Rudolph answers, his pulse quickening. He knows there’s more to this conversation, and he shudders to find out what he’ll be expected to do next.

“Do not play around with me, Rudolph. There’s more. Is she ready to perform the other task as well?” he hisses. Burkenstein can almost feel the venom that’s dripping from Vladimir’s voice, sailing through the phone and stinging him.

Vladimir wants to use the girl to shut down his greatest archival, the man who poses the most threat to his fledgling empire, Sergey Dostovsky. And the best way to cut down a man like that is to target his weaknesses, those things making him vulnerable. In this case, that would be Sergey’s estranged family, led by the son who managed to destroy his undercover market of arms trade and illegal fighting, among many other degrading things he assigned those boys to do. Vladimir’s fascination with Alese Ballentine makes the first time he has ever brought a female into the Order.

“I must insist you speed up her readiness,” Vladimir demands. “We need her to get closer to Katerina Dostovsky. Do you understand?”

“Right, but I’ve spent too much time here in Italy already. I’m afraid the labs back home will suffer if—”

“Nikolai’s punishment takes precedent, and you can use the girl as a ‘negotiator’ thereafter.”

“I understand, but—”

“Do as you are told. Or you could find yourself on my list of the soon-to-be-extinct as well.” The line goes dead. When will his genius be appreciated? The answer is simple ... never! Burkenstein will do as the Widow says for now.

I can’t risk losing the funds for my research, and I sure as hell am not stupid enough to cross a madman on a mission. He’s not just any common boss, but instead, the man who employs me has a plethora of companions and negotiators at his disposal
.

Burkenstein values his hide more than an idiot like Gash does. Picking up the phone, he enters Nikolai Belikov’s number.

CHAPTER 12

~
Alese~

Inside the dream, I fall into a pit of darkness one last time before I’m finally able to wake myself up. A pair of strong arms envelop me, and I’m aware of someone stroking my hair. My eyelids flutter open and I take in my surroundings. Deep blue walls the color of the ocean surround me, and the soft, sensuous touch of silk caresses my body. I’m dressed in a gown, but don’t remember putting one on. A mahogany-colored dresser sits off to the left side of the bed, and a papasan chair with a furry blue pillow is on the right side. The scent of musk and a hint of an outdoorsy smell—a contrast of strength and the feminine mixed together—greets my nostrils, and right away I know exactly where I am, as well as the identity of the person holding me.

Turning my head and focusing on the concerned pair of gray-blue eyes hovering above me, I awaken and stare up at Nikolai, tears clouding my eyes.

“Hush now. I am here. You will be fine,” he says softly in that sexy Russian accent of his, wiping away my tears with his index finger. He’s the picture of contradiction, a man who can be as cold as a snow storm, but then can turn on this gentle side of him that makes me want to throw all caution to the wind, strip him naked, and screw him until we both pass out.

Maybe that’s the one thing that finally causes me to break, seeing this side of the man who will turn me into a killer in order to keep my grandparents from suffering the same fate as my parents. Because, for some reason, sobs wrack through my body, and instead of crying, I begin to choke on them.

I attempt to move out of his arms. Huge mistake. The room starts spinning and nausea stirs in my stomach, along with a rolling headache that feels as though it’s tearing through the back of my skull.

“Easy, little dove. You don’t want to sit up too quickly,” he warns, massaging my shoulders.

“We need to get back to rehearsal.”

“Umm, we do not. Another day of rest will not hurt anything.”

“Another day? How long have I been sleeping?” I ask, trying to keep my heaving breath under control.

“Two days,” he answers.

“Oh my God! I’ve missed practice. Please tell me I haven’t screwed everything up for everyone.” I move back the covers and attempt to get out of the bed ... Nikolai’s bed.
Oh my God!
I can’t believe he actually brought me back to his place. And did he change my clothing?

“Wait. Hold on.” He gently grabs my arm, pulling me back down, and I let him guide me back onto the bed. “The nurse will kill me if I allow you to hurt yourself.”

“What are you doing? We need to get going.”

“No, we don’t. Rest, Alese. That’s all you need to worry over right now,” he says in a tender voice, stroking my hair while I wonder just what planet I’ve landed on and where in the hell the aliens hid the old Nikolai’s body. He sits up and pours me a glass of water from a pitcher on the table beside his bed. “Drink.”

I sit up and do as he says, chugging the water because I’m dying of thirst. “Easy now. Not too fast.”

I quickly finish all of the water and wind up with a brain freeze from drinking too fast. Nikolai takes the glass and I cradle my head, waiting for the ache to pass. “I told you to go slowly.”

“Guess I don’t tend to listen very well,” I snap, feeling like an ass as soon as I do so. “I’m sorry. I just— It’s ... I’m going crazy.”

“No, you are not,” Nikolai assures, his eyes filled with concern. For some reason, this attention he’s giving me makes me want to tell him everything. However, as soon as I open my mouth to speak, gasps and sobs come out instead, as images of my parents suddenly fill my head.

“When I was nine years old, I saw my parents die.” I say the words quickly. “Watched their SUV sink into a river, inch by agonizing inch, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I screamed for help, but no one came. My only comfort was the sound of the wild animals in the woods. Why did I get to live? What makes me so special?”