Page 60 of Captured

Lauren didn’t turn to him. “And when he grants you some sort of reprieve, it isn’t over. It’s never over. That’s his genius. He’ll remind you in ways you can’t imagine that he is always out there watching, always waiting for you to make a misstep, say or sometimes merely think the wrong thing. He’s everywhere.”

“Why, Lauren, I’m flattered.”

Dimitri’s lip curled. He couldn’t abide allowing this man to live another second. Just as he couldn’t abide the fear that rolled through Lauren like a sickness, the incredible hopelessness. That she was consigned to a future without rest, without escape. No one should feel that way.

“And yet,” Smithson continued, “I think the lesson isn’t quite over yet. You should never try to talk me out of something that gives me so much pleasure, Lauren. Remember that.”

He lifted his gun, and Lauren screamed.

But the shot that came was fast—toofast!

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Dimitri reacted to Smithson lifting his gun to surge forward and away,to get himself and Lauren out of the trajectory of the bullet, but Lauren jumped sideways, her arms outstretched, as if in a single leap, she could cover his body with hers.

But it was Smithson who staggered back at an unexpected angle, Smithson who fell as Dimitri lurched toward him, the blood bursting from Smithson’s head irrefutable proof that he wouldn’t get up again. Dimitri turned, bracing himself to launch at the soldier who stood at the edge of the clearing, the soldier he’d dropped to the ground but hadn’t—quite—knocked out.

The man who threw his gun down as they watched and rubbed his face with a grimace.

“My thanks. I’ve been waiting for a chance to take him out cleanly for over a year,” he said, his accent once again placing him as Greek, though he spoke clear English. “The owners of the yacht Smithson commandeered are dead, you should know, dumped into the sea. You won’t find them. However, there’s a brace of his men left aboard who I’m sure would turn on him in an instant. He wasn’t well liked.”

“I can see why. He claimed to be a follower of Typhon. You have any intel on that? Is Typhon on the move?”

The man shrugged. “Not through this asshole, not from what I could ever tell. If he had a direct link to Typhon, he would have been better protected. You’ll still want to check the gates, though. Always pays to be prepared.”

Dimitri snorted, though he was relieved to know that the monster god’s grasp hadn’t extended so far. At least not yet. “Agreed.”

“I’ll leave you to that then. My work here is done.” The soldier of Zeus stared up at the night sky. “The official story circulated to the criminal syndicates will be that Smithson cheated my employer. My employer took offense. But he is a patient soul, and now he will be a happy soul.”

“Your...employer,” Dimitri drawled. “I feel I may know this employer.”

“You could know him a lot better, if you choose to do so.” The man favored him with a wry gaze, his wild blue eyes fierce with unexpected joy. “He knows of you, is proud of you. He’s honored by what you’ve already given. But a man must make the decision to serve him twice. Once when he doesn’t understand what he’s giving up, and once when he does. Your time is coming and...” he slid his gaze to Lauren, then back to Dimitri, and smiled. “I know you’ll make the right choice.”

Dimitri stared at him, but the man merely turned to scan the dark forest again. “Unfortunately, if Smithson’s men see me, I get shot—and as you well know, I can die as easily as the next soldier, no matter who I work for or how long I’ve done so. I don’t suppose there’s another way off this rock?”

Dimitri pointed. “Path to the secondary port. The bartender will set you up if you have money.”

The man’s teeth flashed in the darkness. “Money, I have. Sorry about your shoulder. I cut for show. Smithson liked blood. A lot of it. With you injured, he relaxed his guard just enough.”

It was Dimitri’s turn to smile. “It’s the only reason you’re still alive. You should have told me who you were earlier or I wouldn’t have hit you so hard.”

The demigod of Zeus snorted, teeth gleaming in the darkness. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Forty-One

Lauren couldn’t stop shaking. It all happened so quickly, and yet at the same time, she couldn’t stop seeing everything as if it was in slow motion. Dimitri lurching forward, the sound of the gun, her turning in time to see Henry falling back and collapsing to the ground. His eyes were open the whole way, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore. He wasn’t looking at anyone.

Vaguely she was aware of Dimitri talking with the guard who’d obviously shot Smithson, but she couldn’t hear them over the roaring in her ears.

Then Dimitri was at her side again. “Lauren—Lauren, easy now. How bad are you hurt? Is it only your neck?” he asked, his voice brusque and firm. He placed a balled-up wad of cloth against her collarbone where Henry had sliced the deepest, and it took her a second to realize where it came from.

She stared at Dimitri’s bare chest, fully coming back to the moment. “You just couldn’t wait to get naked again in front of me, could you?”

Dimitri laughed gruffly, then he pulled her against him, lifting her in one swift move.

“Wait—your shoulder!” she protested. “You’re injured worse than I am.”

“Bloody but not deep,” he dismissed her concern. “Henry apparently needed to vet his bodyguards more closely, but there was no faulting the man’s aim.”

He reached the edge of the swaying trees, then set her on her feet and dropped to a crouch. He picked up a small pile of weapons and equipment, stowing his gun and knife efficiently. He waved the phone at her. “He didn’t hurt me badly. He also didn’t destroy my equipment right away, the way he should have. So I had a suspicion he might prove useful in the end. As I proved useful to him.”

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