Chapter Forty-Four
Valencia, Spain
Caspian knew he should have left minutes ago, but he hadn’t expected Verena Kaine to fold like this. She was unraveling, and she wasn’t faking it. He’d seen enough people in real fear to know the difference. Just as he had thought, she wasn’t a hardcore operative. She was a former LAPD detective.
“I’m telling you,” she said, her voice trembling, “she’s a psychopath. She’ll kill us both.”
Caspian said nothing, he just stared at her, watching her twitch and glance toward the street as he made up his mind about what to do next.
“Help me, and I’ll tell you everything,” she pleaded.
“What do you know about the woman who was killed at Ses Oliveres?” he asked.
Verena looked away, averting her eyes.
“Please—”
“Liar! You don’t even know her!” he snapped.
“I do!” she blurted. “Her name’s Sofie Bergmann.”
Caspian’s heart slammed once in his chest, but he didn’t let it show.
“I know about her. I know why she was killed,” Verena continued. “But you need to take me with you.”
Caspian’s mind was racing now. Every second they lingered in the alley, his odds of making a clean exit dropped.
But Verena Kaine was a vault he hadn’t finished cracking.
He had to find out everything she knew about Sofie.
He had patted her down and he hadn’t found another weapon.
That, combined with the fact he had rendered her right arm useless, meant she was no longer a priority threat to him.
He didn’t trust her, not by a long shot, but he had to keep moving.
What did he have to lose by bringing her with him? At least as far as the Audi. There, he could continue to pick her brain and make his final decision about what to do with her. If she could help him understand who he was up against, it was worth a shot.
But something felt off.
Before he could decide, Verena once again glanced toward the street, and her eyes widened. Caspian’s instincts kicked in. He turned his head just slightly and caught movement at the edge of the sidewalk. A woman wearing a green blouse and white pants was raising a pistol.
Caspian grabbed Verena with one arm and hurled her sideways while drawing his pistol with the other hand.
The woman fired just as he launched himself to the left and out of her line of fire.
The shot was unsuppressed and loud. The bullet ricocheted off the brick wall where he’d been standing a split second before.
Caspian hit the ground and fired as he rolled to his left.
His round missed, going wide. The woman darted to her left and vanished behind the corner of the building.
Caspian shifted into a low firing stance.
“Get behind me!” he barked at Verena.
She groaned but pushed herself up from the concrete where he’d thrown her. He hadn’t been gentle, but he couldn’t care less. Minutes ago, she had tried to kill him, hadn’t she?
She stumbled behind him. In the distance, he could hear sirens. Someone had heard the gunshots and called the police.
The shooter peeked out from cover, just for a split second, not long enough for Caspian to aim properly, but he fired anyway, aiming slightly wide.
His round hit the wall inches to the right of the edge of the building.
He hoped it would be enough to scare her away.
The last thing Caspian wanted was to get into a big firefight and hit a bystander or some poor bastard in a parked car.
Caspian crouched low and began shuffling backward, shielding Verena with his body as he moved. Then his sixth sense began to sparkle like a live wire.
Verena had never been so scared. Not in her LAPD career, and not even when she’d realized what Hearts United was truly capable of. But now, pinned in a small alley behind a man she didn’t know, one who moved like a predator, her nerves were stretched to their breaking point.
Who the hell was he? And how had he known Mia was coming?
Verena hadn’t warned him. She hadn’t signaled anything, at least not intentionally. But she had looked. It had been a reflex, a split-second glance toward the street when she’d seen Mia walking up. She’d been desperate to get someone’s attention. Had this been enough to tip him off?
And then he’d moved so damn fast.
Just raw efficiency.
And not only when he’d thrown her out of the way and drew his weapon, but also when he’d disarmed her earlier like it was second nature.
As if he’d done that a hundred times before.
Verena crouched low, her ribs aching from when she’d hit the ground hard. She risked a peep past the man’s shoulder. Mia was still behind the cover of the stone edge of the building, likely calculating her next move.
The man, whoever he was, was protecting her. That much was clear. But why? He could have left her behind. Hell, he should have. But he hadn’t. He’d placed himself between her and Mia’s line of fire. Which meant one thing.
He needs me.
That realization sent Verena’s mind into high gear.
I have leverage.
She didn’t know who he was, but she knew leverage when she saw it. The question was whether it meant anything. If she decided to help the man escape, Mia would come after her.
She’s gonna hunt me down. And that bitch’s relentless.
Verena had a decision to make. And it came down to one simple but very important question: Who terrified her more?
She didn’t even have to think.
Mia. And Hearts United.
With her decision made, Verena’s muscles tensed. The man was four feet in front of her, walking backward, his eyes scanning the alley’s mouth. She could see the corded muscles in his arms, the tension in his neck. He wasn’t focused on her, but on Mia.
Move, Verena. Now!
She waited half a beat, then moved.
Twisting her hips, she kicked out with her right foot, targeting the back of his rear leg.
It should have worked. It should have tripped him as he stepped back. But the man turned at the last second, as if he’d read her mind. He raised his leg, and her feet swung into nothing just as the man pivoted and pistol-whipped her on the side of her head.
White exploded across her vision, but somehow, she stayed upright.
And that’s when she saw Mia, stepping out from the corner, pistol raised.
Caspian moved without thought, pure instinct taking over the second Verena tried to trip him.
As she kicked out, he raised his leg and pivoted toward her, his pistol already arcing downward.
The steel of the barrel connected with the side of her head.
Before he could reassess, movement drew his eye as Mia stepped out from behind the building, gun already raised.
Caspian grabbed a fistful of Verena’s collar and hauled her upright, rotating behind her as he brought his weapon up in one hand. It wasn’t elegant, but it was fast, and it put something—well, someone—between him and the barrel pointed in his direction.
The woman with the green blouse was the first to get off a shot.
Caspian felt the impact slam into Verena’s body, a brutal transfer of force that jerked her back into him.
A second round followed an instant later, thudding lower, somewhere in the vicinity of Verena’s abdomen.
Her body jolted again, and a shallow gasp escaped her lips.
Still holding his pistol with only one hand, and with Verena sagging in his grip, Caspian squeezed the trigger twice. His shots went wide, once again impacting the wall near the edge of the building, chipping stones. By the time he realigned, the woman was gone.
In front of him, Verena’s body slipped from his grip, crumpling to the pavement. Heart hammering in his chest, Caspian scanned the alley. It was clear.
Well . . . that turned to shit fast.
The sirens were growing louder by the second. The cops were getting close. It was time for him to cut his losses and get out of there.
Verena couldn’t breathe. Every inhalation sent a bolt of agony through her chest. It was like someone was carving her open from the inside.
The pavement beneath her felt slick. She was bleeding out; she knew that.
She needed help. She tried to sit up, but the pain was instant and overwhelming.
Her vision blurred, and she collapsed again.
Fuck.
She curled into herself, seeking relief from the flame inside her, but it only made things worse. The pain didn’t ease; it multiplied.
She coughed, and something wet bubbled up from her throat.
Mia shot me.
Verena had known it the moment the second round had hit.
She’d seen Mia do it. Cold and unflinching.
Verena let her head fall to the side, her cheek pressing against the warm concrete as her already labored breathing drew even shallower.
She’d had a choice; she knew that now. That man, whoever he was, had given her a way out.
He had shielded her. Protected her. He’d put himself in Mia’s crosshairs, and all she had to do was to stay down and shut up.
But she hadn’t. She’d made a play. She’d gambled her leverage. And lost.
Just a few days ago, she’d been on the deck of a luxury yacht under the Mediterranean sun, running what she’d believed to be a simple operation. Now she was lying in an alley, blood pooling beneath her, lungs filling with liquid, and questions screamed in her head.
How did this happen? What did I miss?
She should have killed Mia when she had the opportunity. But then she would have had to run for her life. No, it wasn’t this specific operation. It wasn’t anything she’d done this week. None of it was the root of her current predicament.
No. The reason she was bleeding out in an alley was Everett Westcott.
That’s where she’d made the mistake. Saying yes to him.
Believing his promises. Buying into the illusion that she could help him achieve his vision.
She’d taken his offer because she thought it was a ladder to better things.
But now, it was apparent to her the offer had been a noose.
A noose she’d willingly put around her own neck.
A coldness started to creep inward from her extremities, and with it, the sickening understanding that she was about to die.
She wanted to close her eyes, hoping to find peace, but she couldn’t even do that.
Her gaze was trapped on the ground beside her.
Three uneven pools of her blood spread across dirty stones, each one misshapen and irregular.
The number punched through her like a sharp blade.
Three.
Please . . . not three.
The number three always left her uneasy, a wrongness she could never quite ignore. Even now, with her heart slowing, a desperate, absurd wish flared deep inside her. Couldn’t there have been two or even four pools of blood? Anything but three?
And then there was nothing.