Sweet Seduction Shadow (14 page)

"That's not an answer to my question," I pointed out, searching for that steel in my bones. "Besides, if your acquaintance is Roan McLaren he's no friend of mine."

"Then we are on the same side, Sarah," he said evenly.

I blinked at this strange turn of events. My head spinning, trying to make sense of what was happening. Adrenaline in my blood making it difficult to puzzle the pieces out. He obviously knew Roan, but it appeared he was not here to haul my arse back to the man.

I'd thought it many times before, that there would be enemies of Roan's who could use me to further their goals. The question now was, what did this dark skinned man want? And would I like it?

I was guessing not.

"OK, hotshot," I said, receiving a broadening of that smile. "What do you want?"

He barked out a throaty laugh. After a few seconds the big guy by the fish tank joined him. His laugh was more of a donkey baying, than a manly chuckle. I tried to ignore him and focused on the
real
threat in the room.

"No wonder McLaren is unable to forget you," the dark skinned man said. "You have spunk, if not a little death wish." Shit. "Take a seat, Sarah Monaghan," he added, indicating his couch with a sweep of an overly long arm. "I have many questions, this will take some time."

"And if I refuse?" I asked, one last pitiful attempt to prove this wasn't as bad as it seemed.

"I shall have to hurt you," he answered without pause, without a sinister laugh or leery face. And it was all the more believable because of it. This man meant business. I was severely screwed.

I walked haltingly toward the couch and sat down. What other choice did I have? Escape from this bunker was impossible right now, I had to ride this out, bide my time, stay calm.

Stay calm. Fuck that.

Just as I positioned my shaking behind on the settee, the man at the security desk turned around in his chair. The dark skinned, suit clad guy glanced at him as soon as he moved.

"Who is it?" he asked, his accent making the words sound foreign to my ears.

"ASI," the guy spat out, an acronym that meant nothing to me.

"Ignore them," the creep said.

"They mean business, boss. Nick Anscombe's got his gun pointed at the lens."

A long line of expletives tore from the throat of 'the boss', they sounded positively musical with that strange accent of his.

"Show him in," he ordered the man-mountain once he'd run out of juice. I watched as the huge guy lumbered out of the room.

"You have some unusual friends, young lady. An escapee from McLaren's Compound with a protector in the form of Nicholas Anscombe. You are worth more than I had hoped."

Feeling at an utter loss, I just sat there, trying not to give my confusion away. Who the hell was ASI and Nicholas Anscombe? What the hell did they have to do with me? And how could they bully a man like this dark skinned creepy dude? Because I was sure, that the man standing before me was definitely a kingpin like Roan. Maybe Auckland's Roan McLaren.

And didn't that just suck? Because he was right, I'd escaped Roan and the Compound... and five years later I'd found an equivalent to that level of threat. Clever me.

A man walked in the room dressed in black. I was seeing a theme here. But rather than an over-the-top expensive black suit like the creepy dark skinned man standing off to my side, this one was dressed in black jeans, a black T-shirt and black boots. My eyes took all of him in as soon as he entered the rectangular room with the mountain-man at his back. He had really short dark hair and stunning ice-blue eyes. But regardless of how good looking he was, it was his belt that held my attention most. He wore the same sort of items Ben did.

My eyes flicked back up to his face. Was this the Nick that Ben spoke to yesterday on the phone? The conversation that set my resolve to have Ben in my future. I was unsure how to feel about that. Relieved that this new player was on Ben's side? Or concerned that Ben's boss was now involved in my predicament too.

I concentrated on keeping my breathing level and controlled, while I waited for the scene to play out.

"Declan," Nick said with a nod of his head, once he'd fully entered the room. I noticed he made sure the man-mountain was no longer at his back. He positioned himself so he could see every single person in the room, and also so the hallway was no longer behind him. It was impressive.

"Nicholas, what a surprise. If you keep making a habit of interfering in my business we may have to have words," creepy - Declan - said. I was glad to have a name to call him, reminding myself just how creepy he was with his previous nickname was not good for my breathing right now.

"She's off limits," Nick said casually. His whole appearance almost seemed bored, but I was betting he was on edge like me. He didn't seem to be an idiot.

"She's fair game, and you know it," Declan shot back. "She belongs to Roan McLaren, but she is in my territory, so now she is mine."

"You risk war over a woman?" Nick asked incredulously. "I never took you for an emotional being."

"There are no emotions in this business, Nicholas. You would do well to remember that."

"Do I look emotional to you?" Nick asked, face placid, stance relaxed.

"The fact you are interfering at all leads me to believe emotions are involved," Declan said. "I never took you for suicidal."

"And I thought we had an agreement," Nick threw back.

"It does not extend to this."

Silence met Declan's reply and I got the distinct impression Nick was losing this round. I didn't think it would bode well for me.

"Show Mr Anscombe to the door, Truro," Declan said and when the mountain of a man moved I had another name to replace a nickname.

Truro took a step toward Nick but before anyone could do a thing, Nick's gun was pressed under his chin. I hadn't even seen him move. Truro stepped forward, the gun was thrust into his throat. A gargled sound came out of Truro's lips, making it obvious that the gun was pressed in position firmly.

"You are making a mistake, Nicholas," Declan said, seemingly unfazed by the sudden turn of events. "What is this woman to you?"

"Not a pawn in your games," Nick bit out.

"She is what she is and I have every right to use her as such. Come now, Nicholas. You cannot begrudge me the opportunity given. McLaren has lost his gem, I simply wish to return it to him."

"In exchange for what?" Nick demanded, gun still resting under Truro's chin.

"That is not a concern of yours. I tolerate your existence in my city because you provide me with certain information I am otherwise unable to obtain. But do not believe your worth is more than it is."

"And don't think for a minute that I won't stoop to your level to keep her safe," Nick shot back and from the look on his face he meant every word. But I'd been raised around men like Declan, I knew their level was the lowest of lows. How had I garnered Nick's protection? Because that's what it felt like. He was offering to go up against Auckland's kingpin to save me.

"You are an intriguing person," Declan said thoughtfully. "But I cannot let you take her."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the room went completely black. I heard a grunt and then a thump, and then someone's hand wrapped around my upper arm and hauled me off the couch. I screamed, the sound echoing in the room, heard Declan swear in another language and some indistinct clattering over by where the security desk was. And then I was being dragged at an alarming speed down the pitch black hallway. My heels screeching over the concrete as I couldn't get my feet underneath myself in time to keep up.

"Hurry!" Nick barked in my ear.

"I'm trying!" I barked back.

"Any time now would be good with the door, Eric," Nick then said under his breath, startling the hell out of me. Was there another man in the hall? I spun my gaze around but all I could make out was black. No change in darkness, no slither of light from beneath the approaching door. Even though I couldn't see it, I knew the door was up ahead, because the layout of Declan's lair was pretty one dimensional.

I crashed into the back of Nick as he came to an abrupt stop. He thumped once on a solid structure before him, then suddenly yanked me down to the floor. A bright flash of light preceded the most deafening roar of gunfire from where we had just come from. For a second everything was illuminated, even the mark where the bullet landed in the door. Certainly Nick's angry face at my side and the gun he lifted to fire back was.

"You're gonna get us killed!" I shouted at him, but I couldn't see if he gave any indication of hearing me, the hall was again pitch black.

Not for long, because Nick's gun fired, making my eardrums feel like they just burst and light blinding me from its muzzle. Nick hauled me to one side of the door, removing us from the spot Declan's next bullet landed. But there was no cover here. Just darkness and a small amount of space for us to move within, hoping our next spot wouldn't be the one Declan chose to aim at.

"Eric," Nick ground out, surprising me that I could still hear him. I really thought I'd been made deaf. "Get us the fuck out of here!" he added and I was completely on board with that.

I didn't really know Nick Anscombe, but I knew what sort of man Declan was. I was well familiar with his kind. I briefly wondered if it was indeed better the devil you know, and then Declan fired another shot and that thought disappeared. Nick wasn't shooting at me, Declan definitely was. I'd take my strange saviour over Auckland's mob boss any day.

The door behind us gave a welcomed click, that sounded loud for all of two seconds. Then Declan's
bang, bang-bang, bang
rang out and the distant sounds of Fort Street outside seemed miles away, instead of just through the crack in the door. I heard the most awful sound next. A grunt accompanied by Nick's body pressed against mine jerking. A hiss of breath escaped his lips and a clattering at his side let me know he'd dropped his gun.

We were sitting ducks, the light from outside illuminating our position perfectly for Declan to finish us off. And now Nick was injured and unarmed. The situation seemed desperate, but I have not lived my formative years in a dangerous cut-throat environment without learning to dig deep when it counts.

Some of my father's words came back to me, a fleeting memory across my mind. A jarring wake-up call to
move, move, move
. "
Don't lie down and wait for them to get you. Run. Run. Run. And when you think you can't run anymore, crawl, scratch, bite, kick."

I wasn't at the biting and kicking stage, but I sure as hell was ready to crawl. I scampered over Nick's prone body and moved my hands across the concrete at his side. His gun met my fingers and without pausing I lifted the weapon and fired two rounds over my shoulder towards the end of the hallway. Grabbing Nick I hauled him backwards, then kicked the door open with the toe of my shoe. Light streamed in and blinded me, Nick swore letting me know he was present and accounted for, so I shoved to my feet, fired two more shots from under my arm back down the hallway and pushed Nick out the door. In lightning quick moves, I turned and aimed down the corridor, sighting Declan at the end.

His gun was aimed at me.

I pulled my trigger. Then Nick reached in and slammed the door closed. The thud of Declan's bullet against steel made me jump. Then Nick grabbed my hand and pulled me toward an SUV parked a few feet down the street.

"Climb in!" he shouted, rounding the driver's side and starting the engine up.

I clambered up into the front passenger seat, pressed the button to bring the window down and then leaned out with the gun ready to fire should anything come running out of that godforsaken door. As we rounded the corner of the road and came out onto Customs Street, I was jolted back into my seat and I allowed myself to finally take a breath in. My ears were ringing, my blood was pumping and I held a smoking gun in my hand.

It had been a long time since I fired a weapon. My Dad had made sure I knew how from the age of twelve. But since leaving the Compound I'd relied on other methods of protection. But like riding a bike, you never truly forgot how.

A slow pained breath escaped Nick's pursed lips. I swung my gaze towards him to see if the wound was obvious. Blood coated his T-Shirt sleeve on the right hand side. I couldn't investigate further, because that was the side furthest from me, but I was guessing it was his shooting hand.

"Is it a through and through?" I asked, placing the safety on the gun in my hand and settling it into the centre console, within our reach, but no longer in my lap. Close enough for now.

Nick grunted in answer, neither a yes or no, but clearly all he'd give me for now. He reached up and hit a button on his dash and the speaker came alive with a dial tone. Within seconds the call was answered.

"Boss, status," came down the line.

"We're out. Took one bullet to the shoulder, have Brook on standby. We're coming in hot."

"Will do. Building's on lock-down, all personnel are being accounted for. Security footage in Fort Street shows them exiting the building now. Declan looks injured, that'll slow them down. Good shot, boss."

"Wasn't fucking me," Nick bit out. Silence met his announcement, but I couldn't tell if the person on the other end of the line had a wise crack to make, because Nick's hand smashed down on the button that disconnected the call.

I sat still in my seat and just breathed, keeping a wary eye on my saviour. Nick didn't say a word, just flexed the fingers of his right hand over and over again in his lap. He must have been in pain, but he refused to stop and I knew if I suggested I drive, he'd probably chew me out.

"I'm not sure if I'm meant to thank you," I finally said, deciding I'd get the conversation started. I needed to know what lay ahead, drilling him now seemed like a good idea. "But I have no idea what you want with me either, plus I think you just started a war with Auckland's drug lord."

"What do you know about Auckland's drug lord?" Nick asked, keeping his eyes on the road, not even glancing at me.

"That I think I just met him," I replied, using every ounce of control to not appear freaked.

Nick grunted, but didn't say anything else. I glanced out the window and took in the scene. We were heading up Gladstone Road towards Parnell.

"What is ASI?" I asked, determined to get something I could work with.

"Anscombe Securities and Investigations," Nick replied without embellishment.

"And I guess you're Anscombe?" I offered and received a short nod of his head. "Why did you come and get me?" I asked when he didn't make a sound.

"Ben works for me," Nick muttered, as though he wasn't happy about that fact at all. Considering he just took a bullet rescuing me, probably on Ben's request, I couldn't exactly blame him.

"Does he still?" I asked, pushing my luck with this guy, but unable to help myself. He was just too wound up.

His lips twitched once at the edges and then he rolled his head on his shoulders, winced at the pain it caused in his arm, and said, "Jury's out on that one."

"If it's any consolation," I added, "I'm grateful you did."

He did look at me then, an assessing kind of look.

"You still don't know what I want with you," he pointed out, but I got the distinct impression it was a hollow threat. I trusted Ben Tamati. Ben trusted Nick enough to send him in to get me. Part of me believed Nick meant me no harm.

Maybe it was a stupid part of me. I don't know. But my gut told me otherwise and as my father once said,
"
Trust that feeling deep down in the pit of your stomach. Never question it. Never doubt."

"You just took on Auckland's kingpin because he planned to barter me for something he wants from Roan. I guess you could want to do the same, but I doubt it. You're too much like him."

"Like who?" Nick asked quietly.

"The shadow man," I whispered.

"The
shadow man
, as you call him, has been following you for three weeks."

"And in all that time he didn't hand me over to Roan."

"Good point," Nick conceded, just as he swung the SUV into an underground garage in Newmarket. The tyres squealed loudly through the still open window and before we'd even come to a stop two black clad men appeared at our doors. One had a pack on his shoulder which I presumed was for medical reasons, as he was on Nick's side of the car. The other had a gun pointed at my head. Through the open window.