“I always do,” she says, turning towards the shadows of the bridge.
Before she can go, I blurt, “She’s pregnant.”
I don’t know why I do that. Mostly because she deserves to know, I guess.
Her body goes rigid for a second. Her expression gives nothing away, but I can read the emotion underneath the mask.
She’s jealous.
“You’re going to be a father,” she says tightly. “Is that why you’re so deadset on getting her back?”
“Something like that.”
She cocks her head to the side. “We know each other too well for lies, Leo.”
I leave that alone. There’s no point getting into it with her now. It wouldn’t change anything.
“Well, what’s your big plan, then?”
“To stop trusting incompetent fuck-ups,” I say. “This time, I’m taking care of everything myself.”
“I’d have expected nothing less,” she says, amused. “It’s been nice chatting with you. But, as they say, duty calls.”
I nod. “Thank you, Agent Thirty-One.”
She gives me a half smile. Then she disappears into the darkness where it’s easier to wear her disguise.
LEO
ELEVEN MONTHS LATER
The mountain compound is a fortress.
The walls are high, but it’s the natural terrain that does most of the work. Rock formations hang precariously over steep falls, jagged edges threatening to impale anyone who tries to scale them.
The only safe entrance is through the main gate. And that’s only if you’re allowed through by the armed guards.
“Jesus,” Jax grimaces. “It’s like the pope lives inside.”
I focus my high-powered binoculars on the walls. There are lookout towers on each corner of the compound with a pair of guards stationed in each. They’re suited up like they’re prepared for battle.
In a way, they are.
“She’s been waiting for us,” I say, mostly to myself.
“I’d say so,” Gaiman murmurs. “Seems a little paranoid, if you ask me.”
“If she’s expecting us, does that mean we can stop skulking around and just walk through the gates?” Jax asks. “I’m bored.”
“You want to storm this place?” I prod him. “I’d love to hear how. Maybe we can get in, but then what? Is that a chance you want to take?”
Jax shrugs. “That’s not my decision to make, Don.”
Jax is lucky he’s useful. Even luckier that I like him. I’d throw anyone else off a ledge for that sarcasm.
I roll my eyes and turn away. “Time?” I ask gruffly.
“9:55,” Gaiman tells me. “The gates should open in five minutes.”
I already know that, of course. I’ve had a permanent team on Willow’s fortress for thirty-three days now.
Every Tuesday at precisely ten in the morning, the gates open and a contingent of two vehicles leave the compound. The first armored jeep carries five men. The second carries five more, plus one additional passenger.
My wife.
Willow visits the town situated seven miles down the treacherous mountain road for an hour, sometimes two. Then she returns back to the compound’s walls and stays there until the following Tuesday.
The ritual has been driving me mad. Each Tuesday, I caught a glimpse of her. But I couldn’t be seen. I had to stay hidden.
Until now.
Now, I intend to take back what is mine. Not only my wife—but my child, too.
The thought stings. I don’t even know if I have a son or a daughter. So far, my men haven’t been able to collect any intel on the baby. Willow would have given birth about two months ago, by my estimation. Which means the Solovev heir is living and breathing somewhere behind those walls.
The massive bronze gates start to part, emitting a creak that shakes the mountains. The snow descends from where it’s packed around the spikes along the walls.
“There we go,” Jax says unnecessarily. “It’s game time.”
I can sense the excitement rush through the men. They’ve been preparing for this moment for almost two months, ever since we finally managed to pinpoint Anya’s exact location.
The information wasn’t easy to come by. It has been a long and bloody process. But I’m nothing if not determined.
To his credit, the man who gave up Anya’s position put up a good fight. For that, I gave him a clean death. I can appreciate loyalty, even if it is misplaced.
Like clockwork, the first jeep leaves the compound, blissfully unaware of our position behind the thicket of snow-capped trees. Five seconds later, the second jeep follows the first.