Page 12 of Deadly Knight

Maya let Kristen, the girl working the front desk of New Beginnings on the day shift, know that she was going, then headed out the door and down the street, destined for the import shop. It was nearing two in the afternoon, and traffic was almost nonexistent. Very few other people walked the streets. Alone, Maya was finally able to take a moment to herself and shed the worry she’d been carrying all day. She adjusted her purse on her shoulder, then slid her hands into her pockets and let go of her apprehension as best she could. Worry would do her no good. Kostya either didn’t know who she was, or he wasn’t in London to harm her. Her father, on the other hand…

Maya came to the end of the block and turned the corner. A bus had just arrived, and a few passengers disembarked from it as she passed. She continued toward her own destination, somewhat mindful of her surroundings even as her thoughts focused on her family.

She had been sixteen when her mother had died while she and Elena had still been away on their European trip. Their father had given her and her sister very little time to grieve. When they’d returned home, Father had broken the news in a detached tone. Maya hadn’t believed him and had rushed up the stairs, certain that he was joking. Not only had her mother not been there, but all of her possessions and the special equipment she’d had to help with her MS had been gone, as if she’d never been there. Never been a part of their lives.

Elena had grieved along with her, but her little sister had seemed to snap out of her sadness faster with all the presents their father had showered on them. Soon enough, her sister’s behavior had shifted from precocious to spoiled and temperamental without their mother’s positive influence. Their father had encouraged it—he’d seemed to want her to be shallow and superficial, easily manipulated. It was then that Maya had known she couldn’t stay. Not in that house. Not in Boston. She’d needed a clean break from all of them. So, she’d planned and waited. The summer after she’d graduated high school, she’d boarded a plane for London and hadn’t looked back.

If her father was in London, it was bad news. She knew what he was capable of, and she wanted no part in it. But hopefully, all she had to do was keep a low profile and make sure she kept herself separated from him. If he approached her, she needed to be ready to let him down gently and tell him that she had no interest in anything he had to offer. Maybe it would be as easy as that.

Maya came to the end of the street. The shop was only a few buildings away. Just a little farther and—

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The same feeling she’d had when she’d met Kostya was back in full force, but this time it was daylight, and she was able to see what was going on behind her when she glanced back.

Half a block away, on the same side of the street as her, two men had come to a stop. She was certain that she’d seen them get off the bus at the corner when she’d passed by, and while they had every right to walk down whatever street they pleased, there was a sinister undertone to the fact that they’d stopped when she, herself, had come to a stop. Were they following her?

Suddenly, heading for the import shop didn’t seem like such a good idea after all. If she trapped herself inside a building and those men were following her, she’d be at their mercy. With only one way out, they could wait for her at the door, then do whatever it was they wanted to do with her. Especially with how uncrowded these streets were.

She couldn’t let that happen.

Pulse racing, Maya crossed the street once she was sure the way was clear and hurried beyond the import shop. There wasn’t traffic to keep the men on the other side of the street, and when she looked over her shoulder at the next corner, she saw that they were on her tail again. She hurried across the street ahead of her, hoping they’d be delayed by oncoming traffic despite the quiet streets. There was still half a block between them. If incoming cars blocked their way forward, and if she walked quickly enough, she could duck down some streets and lose them.

At least, she hoped she could. If they were the same men who’d been following her last night when she’d run into Kostya, that meant that they knew where she worked, and that they’d been watching her. Even if she escaped now, there was no guarantee that she would be able to escape forever…for now would have to do. She wouldn’t stop fighting for her freedom. She’d been separated from her family for too long to go back to them now.

Maya darted down the next street and broke out into a run. She flew around the next corner she reached, sprinting as fast as she could, and then cut across the street to put more distance between herself and her pursuers. A motorist leaned on their horn as they drove past, and although the noise startled her, she didn’t let it stop her. Instead, she checked over her shoulder to see if she was still being followed as she ducked down the nearest alley.

What she wasn’t expecting was a set of arms snagging her from ahead.

Maya shouted and struggled, pushing against the man who held her. Her purse made her movements cumbersome and limited some of her action, but still, she fought. Elbows flying, fists beating against her captor’s chest, she did everything she could to get free, her eyes darting back to the street to see if anyone might be there to help her. She opened her mouth to scream but a hand clamped tightly over it.

“Stop,” a cold, familiar voice demanded.

Kostya.

Maya blinked and looked up at him, confused and startled. Were the men who’d been following her working for the Sokolovs? Maybe so. After all, they’d chased her right into Kostya’s arms.

“You need to be quiet,” Kostya told her. He continued to hold her close, his eyes holding hers captive, never letting her go. “Do you understand?” She didn’t respond and he slowly removed his hand.

“You won’t tell me to do anything!” Maya shouted. She tugged away from him and tried to slam her elbow into Kostya’s chest, but he caught her by the arm before she could do it. His hand squeezed at her wrist until it smarted, and he slapped his hand back over her mouth. Picking her up, he moved farther down the alley. Terrified of what he might do to her, she fought harder. Thrashing around in his arms. She froze when he grunted. She’d forgotten about his injuries. He set her down and she whirled around to glare at him. “You don’t frighten me,” she insisted. “Not for a second. My real name is Maya Popov, and my father will skin you alive if you hurt me. So call your men off and let me go, or I will see to it that you’re dead before the end of the day.”

CHAPTER11

Kostya

“You think those are my men?” Kostya demanded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He pressed forward, pinning her against the wall with his torso while he held onto her wrists to keep her from trying to hit him again. Right now, he needed to make the best of a bad situation. “I have no men.Iam the man that is sent when something needs to be done, Maya. But you already know that, don’t you?”

Maya’s gaze sharpened. She tried to jerk away from him again, but even with his injuries, Kostya was stronger than she could ever be. He pressed his thigh between her legs and lifted her off the ground so her feet dangled. He hadn’t intended to cross paths with her again, but after his trip to the tailor, he couldn’t resist passing by the homeless shelter. When it came to Maya, he couldn’t help himself. He had to check in to make sure that everything was okay. He’d watched as two men—Popov’s watchdogs, by the looks of them—had scoped out the same building he was watching, waiting for her.

After that, Kostya had known that he couldn’t simply leave. Maya was a Popov, which made her the enemy. But she’d been living independently from the family for the past six years and in all that time, so far as he could tell, she’d had zero contact with any member of her family. She was as good as a defector. And if Popov had men staking out her place of employment…

Kostya couldn’t let her suffer. In a matter of hours, she’d made his heart too soft, and he couldn’t bear the thought of her coming to harm. When he was sure she was safe, he’d retreat back to the United States and do his best to forget that he’d ever come to London and met a woman like her. She was too sweet for him—too innocent. Too perfect.

But the way she thrashed as he held her was making him start to rethink that assessment.

“Let me go, Sokolov!” Maya hissed again. “Let me go!”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Kostya uttered. He spoke low and kept his tone level. They needed to keep a low profile. Her insistence on making a scene could get them injured or worse. “But those men? I can’t guarantee that. They belong to your father.”

“My father?” Maya glanced toward the alley entrance even as she kept squirming and fighting against him. “He…no! But they led me straight to you! You’relying!”

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