Page 74 of Bleed the Shadows
“Them?”
“Are you going to repeat everything I fucking say or are you going to do it?”
“Just want to be sure I understand the order, boss.”
“Find someone who looks like me, or someone who can be made to look like me. We can send him out of the compound, see if anyone follows, if anyone takes a shot at him. Or we can leave him here so I can get the fuck out of this place for a while without drawing attention. We can put him up in the empty guest house, pay him to sit on his ass in between field trips.”
Anton lived in the main house, necessary since that’s where the security room was, and Nick occupied one of the two guest houses.
Anton hesitated, the nodded. “Whatever you say, boss.”
I felt a rush of irritation as he limped out of the room. I really needed to think about a replacement. Anton had been formidable in his day, but now he was old, physically compromised.
He wouldn’t stand a chance with the Butchers, and it was only a matter of time before we met again.
I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t dialed in at least a year.
“Ethan.” The voice was clipped, with a Russian accent.
“I need your help."
45
MAEVE
I openedthe cupboard in the kitchen and pulled out the flour, sugar, baking soda and salt, then checked our supply against my planned menu for Christmas. It was only nine days away, and I needed to start prepping the food.
I would spend the afternoon with my family, then come back to the loft for Christmas dinner with the Butchers, and I wanted to make it nice for them.
Even Bram.
He’d been… well,nicemight not be the word but definitelynicersince our date. He didn’t ignore me anymore and he even tried to be helpful from time to time, handing me things in the kitchen and asking if he could do anything when I was cooking, which was pretty funny because I was pretty sure Bram didn’t know how to boil water.
And Ihadn’tbeen very nice after Rafe and Lilah’s visit. Bram had been right: we needed to be smart. I’d just gotten carried away on the excitement of confirming Ethan Todd was at the house on the mountain.
I would make my brattiness up to the Butchers by making them an amazing Christmas dinner. I was planning a turkeysince I hadn’t been there for Thanksgiving. I was also planning an array of side dishes and several desserts, the most elaborate of which was a Black Forest cake with stabilized whipped cream filling.
“Hey,” Remy said, entering the kitchen. He bent to kiss me — something that had become more common and kind of freaked me out — on his way to the fridge. “I thought you had a shift today.”
“It starts at two,” I said, adding flour to the grocery list on my phone. “And I made your smoothies already.”
He came back to where I stood at the island and pulled me into his arms. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best?”
I looked up at him. “I can’t remember.”
“Well, you’re the best.” He kissed me again, but this time it was long and slow, his tongue tangling with mine until heat blossomed between my thighs. He pulled away with a groan. “Maybe you should call in sick.”
“After that, I’d love to. But I can’t do that to them.”
Holiday shopping was in full swing and the store was crazy busy.
He removed one of the smoothies from the fridge and leaned against the counter. “You could just quit you know.”
“Quit… my job?”
He nodded. “You don’t need it. We can take care of you.”
I shook my head. “That’s an insane thing to say, Remy.”
