Page 83 of Wrath
Shut up! He hit his visor with a fist.Get out of my head.
Cutting through the night traffic, Wyatt whipped in front of cars, changing lanes without warning, burning rubber. His bike almost clipped another vehicle, and he wobbled as control wrenched from his grasp. The hit vehicle beeped angrily as he wrestled control back from Betty. Back tire spun. His boot slammed the ground for balance as the bike ran in circles. When he finally halted, his muscles locked up, aching from the intense strain.
Christ.
He’d come close to causing an accident. He would have survived, but the other car? Major damage. Shock snapped him out of his self-indulgence and he realized he was in the same headspace as last time. When Sara had set up Evan to make it look like the two of them were eloping. That had been a terrible lie.
Had he learned nothing? Still chasing his sin, still believing the worst.
If there was a tiny kernel of possibility that Misha had simply left to go to The Kremlin because she believed she had a better chance of rescuing Alek on her own, or that she didn’t want to be a burden to his family, then her motivations were pure. She was just a girl looking out for her family, and in no way tied to the Syndicate. She was not Sara.
Sara was dead.
If there was a chance that Misha’s life was in danger…
I want someone who can promise me they’ll always be there.A better voice, Misha’s voice, filled his mind. She’d said that before he’d made love to her, and he promised to hold on to her with two hands. He failed at his promise the moment they’d arrived back at his family home when he let her stay on her own in the guest apartment.
He shut his eyes and forced himself to calm, to breathe just like she’d taught him on top of that water tower. He conjured more of her words. More of her.
No, silly. We don’t run from the rain. We make love in the rain.
And then…
If I let you in, koteczek, I’m not letting you go.
With each passing second, his heart rate slowed. The memory of her lilac and incense scent filled him with a longing. He wanted to be back on her family couch, to have her feet under his thighs for warmth.
He opened his eyes, thoughts clearing. This wasn’t history repeating.
Two motorcycles pulled up beside him. The riders, clad in charcoal battle gear and black glossy helmets, idled next to him.
Sloan lifted her visor. “You dumbass.”
Mary lifted her visor and said nothing. He experienced a rush of emotion at the motherly patience staring back at him. It was the same look she’d given him when he’d made his mistakes the first time. It said,I love you.
He sucked in a breath, lifted his visor. “You’re right, we need a plan.”
“I agree,” Mary said. “We go in through the front and there could be innocent collateral.”
“That’s why I looked at this earlier.” Sloan grinned and pulled a tab on her sleeve. A thin flexible screen rolled out from the hem of her inseam and she flicked it stiff. When Sloan tapped the screen, it lit up with computer data. “We tracked the cab Misha took to The Kremlin. She’s definitely there.”
Pain in his chest made it hard to breathe. Wyatt nodded. “She’s gone to get Alek.”
“Here.” Sloan pointed to the digital blueprints of The Kremlin. “Roof entrance. There’s a helipad up top. Doesn’t look like it’s used. We go in from there.”
“All right.” Wyatt snapped his visor closed. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Climbingthe side of the building had been no problem with their grappling hooks and retractable rope. Getting through the roof emergency exit door had also been a breeze. It wasn’t until all three of them hit the inside stairwell that Wyatt sensed a rush of wrath burst through the building and mix with another in a deadly cocktail that made him swoon.
He recognized them both. Alek and Dimitri. The dual surge of sin meant only one thing. The two were locked in battle.
“What is it?” Mary said, coming up next to him.
“I know where they are. Alek’s in danger.”
All three of them lifted their scarves to mask their faces and lowered hoods to shield their identities. A steely determination set in their eyes. Sloan released her bow from her back holster and pulled an arrow from the quiver at her thigh. She nocked, pulled taut, held it ready and sighted. Mary drew her knives. Wyatt just went.
