Dangerous Desire

3

“Which is when I discovered Eva wasn’t in the room with you. Smith says she never left. Only this is when I realized he came on shift before I left.”

“Which means she was already gone by then,” I say, my heart crashing.

Connor’s nod is grim. “Searched the cafeteria, restrooms, chapel, everything. Then I called Tabby and had her do her thing.”

I blink against the bright sunlight streaming in through the window blinds. “What time is it?”

“Seven fifteen.”

“Jesus. If you left at two, that means she’s been gone for more than five hours!”

Connor watches without comment as I lurch unsteadily toward the small closet on the other side of the room. A saline drip on a rolling metal stand clatters along behind me. I rip the bandage off the back of my hand and yank the needle out of the vein, throwing them both aside. Inside the closet in a clear plastic bag are what’s left of my clothes. Shredded tactical pants. Combat boots. Filthy T-shirt encrusted with blood.

“Naz.”

I look over my shoulder at Connor. He points at a black duffel bag on the chair next to my bed. “Clean threads and a cell phone.”

I don’t bother with a thank-you or ask who brought them. A sense of doom has settled over me, as heavy and dark as a thundercloud. I tear open the duffel’s zipper, pull out pants, a shirt, and a pair of boots, and quickly start to dress. The stitched-up gash torn in my thigh from the piece of shrapnel from the car bomb screams in protest when I shove my leg into the pair of jeans. I grit my teeth against the pain and keep shoving.

“What else did Tabby find? Anything?”

“Yeah. Right after you got outta surgery, Eva made a collect call from a pay phone down the hall.”

I whip my head around and stare at him. The thundercloud of doom spreads out to engulf the room. “Who’d she call?”

“International operator first. From there . . . we don’t know. Number was spoofed. Routed through an anonymous web server to a burner, blah, blah. You know the drill.” He pauses. “Sixty seconds after that call, she got a call back.”

We stare at each other as blood pounds in my temples. “Lemme guess. No ID on that number, either.”

“Bingo.”

I know what he’s thinking by the way he’s looking at me. I briefly close my eyes, forcing myself to swallow the roar of frustration building in my throat. “It can’t be.”

“You got any other theories? ’Cause I doubt she called her grandma for a little untraceable chitchat.”

My tenuous hold on my panic finally breaks. I shout, “Why the f**k would she call Dimitri?”

Connor doesn’t bat an eyelash at my tone. “You know her better than I do, brother. You tell me.”

I’m blank for a moment, then it hits me all at once: to negotiate.

I must’ve said that aloud, because Connor frowns. “Negotiate what?”

“The terms of her surrender,” I whisper, cold with horror.

I stagger sideways a step and have to brace an arm against the wall for balance. It doesn’t stop my body from shaking.

“I’m never going to forget a second, Naz, I swear.”

I knew that sounded like a goodbye when she said it before I fell asleep. I knew it! Goddammit all to hell.

“Well, whatever Eva’s motivations, Tabby’s hacked into the city’s traffic cams and any other security systems with video in the surrounding areas she can find, tryin’ to get a bead on her last location. It’s only a matter of time before we discover where she went.”

“Check the airports,” I say, breaking into a cold sweat. “Bus terminals. Taxis. Trains.”

“She can’t have gotten that far. She doesn’t have money. Or ID.”

My mouth is bone dry. I can’t catch my breath. I rip off the hospital gown, yank on a clean black T-shirt, and button the fly of my jeans, battling every frantic emotion inside me for control. I shove my bare feet into the boots, not bothering to lace them.

I say, “She wouldn’t need either if Dimitri’s involved. Let’s go.”

Half an hour later, we’re striding through the reinforced steel front door of Metrix’s headquarters. There’s something seriously wrong with my lungs, because the inside of my chest feels as if it’s on fire, and I can’t get enough air. Fire’s scorching my gut, too, but I know that’s not an effect of the explosion I was in a few days ago.

That’s fear, plain and simple.

I know exactly what kind of sick, soulless criminal Dimitri Ivanov is. The thought of Eva going anywhere near him again makes my blood curdle.

Almost worse is the knowledge that when we made love, Eva already knew she was leaving.

Tabby greets us inside the door, wearing the same clothing she was wearing yesterday. She’s pale and yawning, with dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. I suffer a twinge of guilt that everything has turned into such a s**t show, but push it aside. I’ll say my apologies later, after we get Eva back and my brain is working right again.

“Princess.” Connor grabs her into a bear hug, burying his face into her neck.

She says softly, “Hey, sweetie.” Then, with a laugh: “Don’t break my spine, jarhead. I’m using it.”

He releases her, and she turns her gaze to me. Her eyes are the color of fresh-cut grass and, as usual, miss nothing. “Damn. I hope you feel better than you look.”

“I don’t. Talk to me before I lose my f*****g mind.”

She assesses my body language for a moment. Whatever she finds makes her cut right to the chase. “Long story short: I’ve got nothing.”