Forty One

Forty One
"THE HUNT"

Astrid's POV

Rain beats against the bulletproof windows of Eagan’s SUV as we drive toward the airstrip. The wipers struggle through the deluge, matching the heartbeat drumming a hypnotic rhythm against my ears.

“For-Tay five minutes,” the driver says.

Eagan pretends not to notice him. He has said nothing since we left the cemetery, nothing but his face, a mask of pure cold purpose. His phone buzzes continuously with updates from his men already on the ground at the airstrip.

“Remember our deal,” I say, shattering the silence. "I stay in the car."

His eyes meet mine briefly. “Being with two guards at all times.”

"I remember." I reach for his hand. “Promise me you’ll take care.”

"Blair isn't a threat." His grip on my hand tightens. "She's desperate. Running. Desperate people do desperate things.'”

Liam is looking back from the front seat. “Latest intel says she’s on the move with three guards. Minimal security. She’s trying to lay low.”

“Overconfident,” Eagan mutters. "She always was."

I gaze out at the stormy landscape hurtling by. "What will you do with her?"

"Get information first. Names. Contacts. Bank accounts." His voice is cold, clinical, distant. "Then end it."

I should feel troubled by the way he talks casually about killing. Once, it would have. Now I simply nod.

“She arranged for the massacre of the orphanage,” I say softly. "Sister Grace. Those children."

Eagan's eyes darken. "I know."

"Make it hurt."

Something like surprise passes across his face before he believes the mask. "I will."

The SUV reduced its speed near the access road to the airstrip. Two of Eagan’s black Range Rovers are parked behind the cover of one maintenance hangar. As we pull along side them men in tactical gear emerge.

Liam rolls his window down even through the rain. "Target status?"

“Still inside the terminal,” a man says. “Plane’s being fueled on the tarmac. Pilot filed flight plan to Zurich."

"Switzerland," Eagan mutters. "Predictable."

He looks at me, his face softening ever so slightly. "Stay here. Marco and Vince will protect\[438\] you. If you show any sign of trouble, they will kick you out the first time. No arguments."

"I'll be fine," I assure him. “Concentrate on what we need from Blair.

He pauses, then draws me in, giving me a kiss that is as sweet as it is possessive. "I won't be long."

Before I can answer, he is gone, striding out into the rain toward his men waiting. Liam is next, giving orders via his earpiece.

Marco and Vince take up positions on either side of the SUV, weapons at the ready. I watch Eagan’s team spread out through the rain-streaked windows, surrounding the small private terminal building.

Minutes pass in tense quietness. I put my hand to my stomach, feeling a flutter of what might be the baby but could just as easily be my own nerves.

"Stay calm," I whisper. “Your daddy knows what he’s doing.”

A lightning flash illuminates the scene. I see Eagan’s figure inside the terminal building, surrounded by his men.

My phone dings — a message from Eagan: “Target acquired. Stay put."

I am flooded with relief, but it is fleeting. Headlights emerge on the access road, a brightness that strengthens as they close in.

Marco notices too. "Vince, we've got company."

Vince lifts his gun and shouts into his comm unit. “Unknown vehicle, east entrance. Black Escalade; tinted windows.”

The SUV comes to a halt inches from our spot. For a long moment, nothing occurs.

Then the passenger door swings open and a man steps into the rain. I know him at even this distance.
Ren Ivanov.

My blood turns to ice. How did he know we'd be here?
Marco goes protectively before our vehicle. "Stay down, Ms. Sage."

I sink down in my seat, heart pounding. From the gap between headrest and window I see Ren stride towards us, unconcerned by the guns trained on him.

“I’m here to see King,” he calls, rain slicking his dark hair to his forehead. “Tell him Ren Ivanov has information regarding Blair Vasquez that may interest him.”

Vince holds his weapon at Ren. "Boss is busy."

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll want to interrupt his little love-in with Blair when he hears what I’m about to say.” Ren smiles, that same cold smile that terrified my nightmares years after my escape attempt. “It has to do with the safety of his pregnant girlfriend.”

The hand instinctively moves to my abdomen. How does he know?

He relays the message as Vince speaks into his comm again. It is a tense minute before he gets a reply.

“Boss says to bring him in. Run a search on him first.”

Two more of Eagan’s men materialize out of the shadows and pat Ren down thoroughly before escorting him toward the terminal. As he walks, his eyes meet mine through the tinted glass of our SUV.

He winks.

I feel ill, my palms slick with clammy sweat. I catch my phone, texting Eagan: “Be careful. Ren knows about the baby."
No response.

Another 10 minutes crawl forward in agonising slowness. The rain beats down, pounding the roof of the SUV. I startle when my phone buzzes at last.

Eagan: "Coming out. Be ready to move."

The terminal door opens. First, Eagan appears, and then Liam, pulling a handcuffed Blair. Her prim frocks hang askew, a bruise near her cheekbone. Unrestrained, surprisingly enough, Ren walks behind them, looking far too comfortable for a woman with Eagan’s men in every direction.

They approach our vehicle. Eagan gestures to Marco to open the door.

“Change of plans,” he tells me, his expression unreadable. "Blair's coming with us. So is Ivanov."

"What? Why?"

“I need to talk to you in a secure place. He nudges me over, then slides in next to me. “The airstrip’s not safe anymore.”
Liam pushes Blair into the third row of seats. Ren sidles up next to her, casually confident. An armed guard hops into another vehicle behind ours.”

As we drives from the airstrip, I lower my voice. "What's going on? Why is he here?"

“Blair wasn’t running,” Eagan says softly. "She was bait."
"Bait? For what?"

"For us." His jaw tightens. “There’s a bounty on both our heads. Ten million each."

My breath catches. "Who?"

“That’s what our guests are going to tell us.” He looks back at Blair and Ren. "One way or another."

Blair sits stiffly, looking straight ahead, unwilling to meet anyone’s gaze. Ren, by contrast, seems positively relaxed, observing our interaction with unmistakable interest.

"Why warn us?" I tip the question to Eagan, but loud enough Ren can hear it. "He hates you."

Ren chuckles. "I don't hate Eagan. I admire him. He's a man of vision."

“You’re wanted for yourself,” I say cold. “You helped me escape only to attempt to take me.”

“Business and pleasure are different things, sweetheart.” The smile does not reach the eyes. "I wanted you, yes. But I’m realistic enough to know when to quit.”

Eagan’s hand slips into mine, squeezing hard enough to sting. A warning to stay calm.

“The contract arrived from Switzerland,” Ren continues. "Same place Blair was headed. Coincidence?"

Blair finally speaks, her voice tight with fear. “I was running from you—King. You've destroyed everything."

“Not everything,” Eagan responds. "Not yet."

We veer on to a narrow road away from the city into the wooded periphery. The safe house, I realize. Eagan's most secure location.

“You’re making a mistake,” Blair suddenly says. “You can kill me, torture me, anything. It won't change anything. They’re coming for you, for all of us who know too much.”

"Who's 'they'?" I ask.

Ren answers before Blair can. “The true enforcers of the families. What I mean the ones have been behind the curtain for generations.

“The Order,” Blair adds, with resignation in her voice. “That’s what they refer to themselves as.”

Eagan’s face does not change, but I feel him stiffening beside me. “Margaret Winters wrote about them. At the funeral."

The revelation appears to come as a shock to Ren. The old lady talked to you?” Interesting."

“She said that they were targeting my family for a reason,” Eagan recalls. “As if we are some bloodline.”

Ren leans forward. “Did it never occur to you, why you’re different, King? Why do you feel you think faster, move quicker, strategize better than anyone on Earth? It's in your DNA. The Order’s been breeding specific bloodlines for centuries.”

“That is just ridiculous,” I interrupt.

"Is it?" There is something like excitement in Ren’s eyes. “Ask him how it is that he can walk into a room and in an instant know where every exit is, where every weapon is hidden. Ask him how he knows what people are going to do before they do it. It's not just training."

Eagan's expression does not change. “If what you’re saying is true, why would they kill my family?” Why target my sister?"
“Because your father wouldn’t play along,” Blair says softly. “He found out what they were doing and threatened to tell on them.”

“And now the history repeats,” Ren continues. “They perceive you as a failed experiment, King. One that must be removed before you can procreate.’”

His eyes flick to my stomach. Eagan’s arm surrounds me protectively.

“We’re here,” Liam says as we arrive at the secluded safe house.

As we get out, armed men circle the vehicle. Blair is treated roughly as he is led inside. Ren follows, more dignified but no less guarded.

As Eagan helps me out of the SUV, I grasp his arm. "Do you believe them? About this Order?"

Rain streams down his face as he ponders. “I think someone powerful has been pulling strings. “Doesn’t matter if it’s some ancient secret society or just rich men with god complexes.”

“They’re taking aim at our baby, Eagan.”

His face turns into something terrifying. “Then they’ve made their final mistake.”

We walk toward the safe house together, his arm clamped around me. Lightning cleaves the sky behind us, illuminating the black forest that surrounds us.

The hunt has changed. We are no longer the hunters.

We are the hunted.