Page 84 of Lethal Alliance

Alexei is gone, and we are all alone.

26

ROMAN

The bike and I are one, hitting speeds higher than any bike has a right to go. I lean into a corner, striking sparks off the tarmac, riding the mountain roads like a meteor shot across the sky.

I feel both a thousand feet tall and the smallest I ever have.

I’ve gone from being a man without name or family to having all of it, rich and sweet, laid before me like a banquet I barely dare to taste. And now, someone has walked in and stolen part of it from me.

I can’t relax until I have Ofelia and Masha back.

Even after I get the girls back, I have so much to lose. So much that Ilyan Fedorov, or men like him, can try to take away. The merest thought of someone laying hands on Darya, on the faint bump in her belly that I still can’t quite believe is real, ratchets up my internal tension to the kind of torque no engine can hope to match.

And I can’t come down from this crazy edge of joy either. A joy that feels indecent while the girls are still in Vilnus Orlov’s fucking hands.

My fear lends a savage edge to the ride, and to the joy.

I flick open the visor on my helmet, reveling in the cut of the wind against my face.

“Fuck!” I roar the word into the wind, roar the pain, rage, and joy out together, the bike leaping beneath me.

I storm into the lab with the wind still in my hair and the wildness like an electrical current in every cell. I stalk through the ops center, not trusting myself to speak just yet. Dimitry and Mak are in the secure room, poring over a schematic of the Coconut Grove compound. Dimitry looks up as I open the door.

“Jesus.” He raises his eyebrows. “What the fuck happened to you?”

I feel the shit-eating grin spread across my face before I can stop it. “Darya’s pregnant.”

For once, Dimitry is stunned into silence. He and Mak look at each other, then back at me. A slow smile dawns on Dimitry’s face. He crosses the floor in two strides and pulls me into a wordless bear hug that almost crushes me, thumping my back with a closed fist. When he finally pulls back he puts his hands on my shoulders, shaking me until my teeth rattle.

“Fucking brilliant,” he says roughly. Then he says it again. “Fucking brilliant.”

The severity of his grip and depth of emotion in his eyes say more than words ever could. Dimitry, more than anyone, knows what this means to me.

Mak, standing behind him, thrusts out his hand and smiles wryly. “I think he means to say congratulations,” he says in that cut-glass fucking Eton accent. The faint rebuke doesn’t take anything from the genuine warmth in his eyes. “Allow me to add mine, Roman. This is wonderful news.”

“Damn right it is.” I still can’t wipe the stupid smile off my face. I take the glass of cognac Mak has magically produced. Fucker probably keeps a decanter with him when he’s on camels in some third-world shithole.

Not that I’m complaining.

“Have you told Mickey yet?” Dimitry asks after we’ve clinked glasses.

I shake my head, my smile fading. “He’s got enough on his mind right now.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mak says, exchanging a look with Dimitry, “I would suggest that is bullshit. Mickey has a very big mind. The only thing there isn’t space for in that head of his is lies, Roman. The kid can sniff them out from across a crowded room. In his current mood, I wouldn’t go hiding anything from him.”

Dimitry nods vigorously. “Get him in here. As a matter of fact, let’s wait until he’s here to drink to this.”

I frown. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to be celebrating anything until the girls are back, especially in front of Mickey.”

“I doubt he’ll give you the chance anyway.” Dimitry grins at me. “One look at your face was probably enough to make him suspicious. Your poker game is shot on this one, brother, let me tell you.”

He’s barely finished speaking when there’s a knock on the door.

“Roman!” Mickey’s voice is tense and demanding. “What’s going on?”

Dimitry’s grin widens. “Told you.”

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