Ice Storm - Anne Stuart [79]
“Son of a bitch,” Peter muttered, opening his phone and texting quickly, then clicking it shut again. “You ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“For your first assignment. To meet Serafin the Butcher, the most dangerous man in the world.”
“Sounds like he’s got a good PR firm,” Reno said. “And I’ve been ready for days.”
Peter didn’t look happy, Reno thought. But then, he hadn’t looked particularly pleased since he’d first set eyes on Reno at the airport. It must gall him that he’d have to put him to work. Which was just an added bonus for Reno, banishing the last of his temper at being awakened so rudely. Besides, he’d gotten rid of Lucy or Angela, so everything was fine.
“Just follow orders and don’t make the mistake of thinking for yourself,” Peter said in a tight voice. “Serafin’s an unknown quantity, and God only knows what’s been happening to them.”
“Unless Madame Lambert has changed, she probably has him on a leash and collar,” Reno said.
“You’re young,” Peter said dismissively, annoying him. “You shouldn’t take people at face value.”
“You mean Madame Lambert isn’t a coldhearted bitch who could take down an army single-handed?”
“Meaning Isobel Lambert isn’t as invulnerable as she likes to think she is. None of us is.”
“Not even you?” Reno asked mockingly.
“No, kid. And not even you.”
The Kensington streets were empty when they stepped outside the white stone building that looked just like all the other white stone buildings. It had taken all Reno’s concentration to recognize it in the first couple of days—whoever had built this upscale area of London hadn’t had much imagination. The street was lined with parked cars, and he picked out the milk truck immediately, heading for it.
Peter was at his side. “How did you know?”
Reno smirked. “Taka sent me here for a reason. We’re picking up two people, one who might put up a fight, and a small car would be too dangerous. People are less likely to pay attention to a commercial van, and a milk van is more likely to be out very early in the morning making deliveries than any other company. I don’t suppose you’re going to let me drive?”
“Your first time in England? I don’t think so.”
“We drive on the left-hand side of the road in Japan, too, and London’s nothing compared to Tokyo. Besides, that’s probably a standard shift and you’ve got a bad leg. You’ll put us in danger.” He held out his hand for the keys.
Madsen looked at him for a moment. “You don’t waste time on tact,” he said. “I like that.” And he dropped the keys in Reno’s hand, climbing in the passenger side.
They were already leaving the city when his mobile beeped. Peter flipped it open, then sat there reading the screen, an odd expression on his face.
“Something wrong?”
“Concentrate on your driving,” Peter said finally, snapping the phone shut. “I had the nurse take a look at Genevieve. She hasn’t been poisoned, and she doesn’t have stomach flu.”
“So?”
“She’s pregnant,” Peter Madsen said in a voice of utmost doom.
And Reno, heartless creature that he was, laughed.
18
Killian opened his eyes very slowly, not convinced that he actually wanted to see where he was. The room was dark—no natural light whatsoever, and the artificial light was muted. He was lying in a bed, his hands tied to what presumably was a bedpost, his feet bound together with some kind of cording, and someone had stuffed a gag in his mouth. And he was in a very bad mood.
It had been a long time since someone had gotten the drop on him. More than a decade, maybe two, since he’d lost focus long enough that he was no longer calling the shots. The last thing he remembered was pulling over to the side of the road, though he wasn’t sure why. He’d thought Isobel was thoroughly demoralized by the incident on the boat and she’d been pissed as hell to have to lie with her head in his lap. He’d assumed she wouldn’t want to get near enough to him to try to take him out. He’d underestimated her.
In the end, it hadn’t taken much. He could still feel the faint sting at the side of his neck, and he must have gone down hard.