Page 89 of Explosive Vengeance

Heath waited until they were gone before coming to sit in the chair at the side of her bed. “Nice to have friends, huh?”

“Yes.” Surreal, but nice. And even nicer to have friends with connections in high places, to pull strings behind the scenes and take care of pesky things like criminal charges and revoked security clearances.

He laid his forearms on the bed and set his chin on top of them, watching her. “You look like hell, firecracker.”

She made a face. “Feel like it too.” She reached for his hand, the feel of his long fingers curling around hers soothing her on the deepest level. “So you still have the contract in Syria?”

“Unfortunately.”

“When are you supposed to leave?”

“Two days.”

Her heart lurched. Only two days, and he’d be gone.

She held his hand tighter, fighting a war within herself. She’d been trained not to rely on anyone. Not to need anyone. But she needed Heath, and was afraid to let him go. She wouldn’t beg him, however. A woman still had her pride, concussed or not. “Will you come with me to the UK before you fly to Syria? If I promise not to blow anything else up while you’re there?”

Heath laughed softly as he picked up her hand and kissed the back of it, gazing into her eyes. “I don’t trust that promise for a second. But I’d go anywhere to be with you, firecracker.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Her target wasn’t going to show.

Eden waited at the hotel bar, nursing the watered-down gin and tonic she’d ordered half an hour ago. He wasn’t coming. Either he’d gotten suspicious that something was up, or he’d blown her off.

Disappointing, but it came with the territory. There was always another time. Another way to kill a target.

She gave it another ten minutes before calling it a bust. As she slid off the barstool to grab her purse, her eye caught the breaking news story being broadcast on the TV behind the bar.

Wealthy Paris businessman and philanthropist killed at his country estate.

Guillaume Dubois’ face came on screen.

She hid a smile.Well, well.

Eden paid for her drink, scanned the bar one last time, then headed back to her room upstairs. Once there she ditched her heels, stripped off the skin-tight black cocktail dress and splurged with a nice, hot soak in the tub. Why not? It had been a hell of a week and she rarely stayed in a place this nice. She’d been following the same man for nearly a month now, working her way deeper and deeper into his inner circle.

Wrapping up in a hotel robe, she decided to spoil herself again and ordered a hot fudge brownie sundae with a pot of tea from room service. While she ate it, she opened up her laptop to check for messages. One caught her eye immediately. From the sender she only knew as “Bam Bam”.

Not sure if you’re still out there. But if you get this message… We got him, and the women are safe.

Next to it were two links. One detailing how a group of migrant women were found and rescued from the hold of a ship in Le Havre a few nights ago. The other was a story about Dubois.

A rush of triumph made the hair on Eden’s arms stand up. She opened the link and scanned the story with eager eyes.

Guillaume Dubois was one of France’s wealthiest men, well known for his charitable donations to various causes.

“Yeah, and most of that money came from selling women,” she muttered under her breath, disgusted.

In a shocking act, he was murdered early this morning on his estate in Normandy when his vehicle exploded with him inside it.

“Beautiful.”

Three of his security guards were also killed in the brazen attack.This is the second tragedy to hit the Dubois family in recent days. Guillaume’s younger brother, Dominic, died in an explosion in his Paris home last week. Police say the murders are connected, and the deaths have rumors about the brothers’ possible link to organized crime buzzing.

“About fucking time someone saw the truth.” She clicked on the photos showing Dubois’ country manor, then zoomed in on the one showing the burned-out wreckage of his car. It was nothing but a heap of scorched and twisted metal.

Both Dubois murders bore the hallmark of a pro. Eden was almost positive the woman she’d been in contact with was a fellow Valkyrie.

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