Page 18 of Blood Oath Christmas
For a moment, my mind slips backward, years peeling away. I’m small again, five maybe six, bundled in a too-big coat. My father’s hand is warm around mine as he walks me across a frozen yard. He stops when I stumble, lifts me into his arms without a word. Against his chest I feel safe, unshakable, like nothing bad could ever touch me.
That same feeling brushes against me now as I look at where Konstantin had been standing, watching me. A sense of safety that makes no sense at all floats over me.
I blink hard, forcing myself back into the present.
The day drags on, heavy with silence and restless pacing. When the sun sinks, the agents gather me for transport.
“It’s time to move,” Graham says, his tone brisk.
“Another safehouse,” I grumble as I climb into the back of the SUV. I’m stuck in the middle again, pressed between Torres and another agent whose name I don’t know. The city outside the windows is dark, snow swirling in the glow of the streetlights. My body aches with exhaustion, but my mind won’t still.
“With Vadim out on bail, we don’t want to take any chances,” Graham says. I understand, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.
The car slows down, drawing a frown from Torres. “What’s going on?” he asks, leaning forward.
Red taillights flare ahead of us, blocking the narrow street. A line of black vehicles idles across the road, engines rumbling.
My pulse spikes. “Is it?—”
Before I can finish, the world outside explodes into motion. Doors open, shadows spill out. Men fan into the street, armed, surrounding us in a tightening circle.
The agents draw their weapons, shouting orders.
And then I see him.
Konstantin.
He stands at the front of the group, tall and immovable, his men a wall behind him. His eyes lock on mine through the glass.
My breath stutters.
The SUV doors are yanked open.
And everything tilts into chaos.
10
KONSTANTIN
Ivy has to appear in court today. This is where she will be most exposed, but it’s also where she’ll be surrounded by agents. I don’t really expect Vadim to try anything here, but I don’t want to take the chance that he’s stupid enough to try.
The morning wind bites as sharp as knives as I stand across the street from the courthouse, a coffee cooling untouched in my hand. The marble steps gleam under the weak winter sun, agents pacing with clipped precision at every entrance.
More threatening, though, is the swarm of reporters, each one trying to get a close-up view of Ivy. My lips thin as I watch them trying to crowd around the FBI’s vehicles, microphones in one hand while the camera people push their way around, hoping for the best view.
When Ivy finally emerges, flanked by her guards, something tightens in my chest.
She walks quickly, head down, coat pulled close around her small frame. A slight smile tugs at my mouth. She’s not giving the reporters any chance of a good picture of her. The agents form a wall around her, their hands hovering near their weaponsas their cautious gazes scan the street, buildings, and roofs for threats.
She looks so small and frail surrounded by the Feds. Her skin is too pale, her chin tucked in tight as if the weight of the whole world is pressing down on her slender shoulders.
For one instant, her eyes lift, just slightly, toward the street. My heart stumbles. But her gaze slides past me, never settling, and she ducks back into the SUV.
She disappears inside the courthouse and everything calms down. The spectators and media, no longer whipped into a frenzy, break off into groups to wait for court to end. This was supposed to be a quiet hearing, a meeting with the judge and prosecutor to see if there’s enough evidence to go to trial. Someone leaked the information or else so many reporters wouldn’t be here.
All I can do now is wait.
Later that night,I stand in the shadows across from the safehouse. It’s ordinary in every way—peeling paint, sagging porch, and a flicker of yellow light in the front room, an attempt to make it look cozy and occupied. To anyone else, it would disappear into the block of other rundown homes. To me, it is a beacon. It’s where Ivy is being held.
