Spirit Bound - Christine Feehan [141]
Lev sketched a question mark in Stefan’s mind.
“When he’s hurt, he runs. I would have kept going unless the bastard knocked me out. He might have been able to kill me when I was on the ground, but he couldn’t take the pain. He’s soft, Lev, and he won’t kill unless it’s a sure thing.”
“So basically, he’s a perverted sadist bent on killing us.”
Stefan nodded. “But he’s not gone rogue. He may be ignoring Sorbacov now, but make no mistake, Sorbacov ordered him here in the first place. If he managed to kill us, he’d go home with some tale of how he didn’t get the new orders and Sorbacov would swallow it because he’d have no choice. He’s got a monster on a leash, but he doesn’t want that monster to turn on him.”
“You have to tell Judith.”
Stefan pushed down the illogical fear swamping him. “Keeping her alive is more important. I think La Roux took the escape offered him, suspicious the offer could be a trap and got word through one of his guards to his own men. They killed our agents and La Roux most likely came here. He had to have seen that picture of Judith with me that Mike Shariton took of us together at the door of the gallery. That’s what prompted him to agree to get out of prison. He’s no one’s fool, La Roux.”
Lev pressed his lips together as if to keep from saying anything more and followed Stefan out into the night. They separated the moment they were on the street, each taking an opposite side. Stefan took the sidewalk closest to the ocean. It had the least cover, a short fence and wild plants shooting up all over the bluff, but not high enough at the fence line to provide any shadows to disappear into. He didn’t try, but sauntered along as though out for a late night walk.
It makes better sense for me to be over there. He wouldn’t recognize me.
Stefan scowled, but didn’t bother with an answer. He’d come to Sea Haven to warn and protect his younger brother from an assassin. Nothing had changed his intentions, not even meeting Judith. It was bad enough that Lev insisted on coming along, but he wasn’t going to allow him to take the dangerous position.
The wind had risen, slapping at the sea, pushing the waves into higher and higher crests so that they broke in towering peaks over the rocks and sprayed white foam high into the air. The sea was an angry power, showing no mercy to anything in its way, dark and turbulent. He felt the power, inhaled it and drew it deep into his lungs. Waves of energy rode on the power of the wind and sea. Violent energy. He had no doubt Ivanov was up to something sadistic—and he was close.
He’s here—close, Lev. He’s hurting something or someone. Stefan tried to narrow the direction down. Stay in the shadows. Don’t come near me.
Whatever Ivanov was doing had to be close, the energy was too strong. He took a chance and crossed the street, angling ahead of his brother. The moment he neared a cross street, he felt pain, suffering, intense fear. The victim was still alive, but he could feel lifeblood ebbing away. He turned down that street and broke into a run. He was a big man and running lightly down an uneven street, expecting a bullet any moment wasn’t the smartest thing, but if there was a chance to prevent an innocent dying, he had to take it.
The scent of blood was strong, but with the wind coming in off the sea and shifting continually, he had to guess at a direction. A dog began to bark one street up so he continued running up the road, hoping he was choosing the correct direction.
One street over, parallel with the one he was on, the lid of a garbage can crashed to the ground. Immediately, Lev broke out of the shrubbery and headed in that direction