Bravery’s Sin: Masters’ Admiralty, book 5, page 13
“No, Admiral. And another helicopter is ten minutes out. We’re going to take you on a stretcher to a point just outside the walls. We still haven’t caught the shooter, and we don’t want the helicopter landing and you transferring where you might be vulnerable.”
Two more men entered, forcing Nyx and Grigoris to step deeper into the room. They laid a narrow yellow stretcher out beside Petro. Nikolett opened the duffel bag with one hand, then started barking orders at the guard closest to her as to what she needed.
Ivan walked over to Grigoris. “Nice shooting, Janissary.”
“Who is going with him?” Grigoris asked.
Ivan pointed to himself. “Hanna, myself. That’s all there’s room for.”
“Just you,” Grigoris said. He raised his voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “No one except the admiral and one guard is allowed to leave.”
Hanna look incensed. “I will go with my husband!” Her gaze darted to Nyx as she said ‘husband’. Now that she knew the other woman would “see her burn,” she no longer had to waste time feeling guilty about not convincing Hanna to join her when she’d run.
“You have no authority to give orders,” Nikolett said, not looking up from whatever she was doing to Petro. The admiral was grimacing in obvious pain, which was undoubtedly the only reason he wasn’t asserting his authority.
“The Admiralty, and territory of Hungary, were just attacked.” Grigoris’ words rang out. The door to the office was open slightly, and Nyx could see the worried faces of some of the other guests where they stood in the foyer, doubtless corralled there as the guards finished sweeping the house. “I am leader of the task force assigned to address these attacks.” Grigoris looked around the room, and he seemed taller and broader than he had moments before. He was always tall, but he decided to stop hiding it while he took control of the situation. “Which means I am in charge. And no one leaves here without my permission.”
Nikolett sat back, cleaning her bloody hands with a small wipe. “If there was one bomb, there might be another in the house. I have no intention of staying here.”
“You will stay here. We will sweep the house a second time. Additional security is on its way with equipment.”
Two men loaded Petro onto a stretcher and lifted him. He grimaced as he was jostled. He had a mask over his mouth, and Hanna stayed by his side, peering worriedly at him, one of her hands on his shoulder as they carried him out.
“You can’t keep me here,” someone else said, though Nyx couldn’t see who’d spoken.
Hanna shot Nyx a venomous look before she disappeared, leaving the door open wide enough that Nyx could see more of the crowd in the foyer.
Hanna was going to go with Petro. Nyx was sure of that.
Grigoris stepped forward, raising his voice to quiet the murmurs that had followed as people got a good look at Petro.
“As of right now, you are all suspects in the attack on the admiral. No one leaves.”
Grigoris walked through the crowd. He had a small conference with the men who’d searched the house. Then they started herding everyone into the dining room and den. Nyx tried to catch his attention, to warn him that Hanna had left, but he was occupied, and it was already too late.
Nyx went with the crowd until a strong hand halted her.
“Come with me.”
Nyx hadn’t panicked at the touch because she knew it was Grigoris. She nodded her assent and followed him away from the crowd.
“Are you alright?” Grigoris asked, pulling Nyx into a small alcove.
Nyx nodded numbly. Exhaustion and adrenaline were warring for dominance at the moment. Too much had happened in too short a time frame. She hadn’t had time to process any of it.
She’d moved from the terror of Petro’s attack in her bedroom, to Grigoris’ bed, to Petro being shot, to the bomb and her brief certainty that she’d lost Grigoris.
She needed time to herself to sit quietly and process, but given the intense look in Grigoris’ eyes, it was apparent she wasn’t going to get that until he got answers she didn’t want to give.
Grigoris wasn’t appeased by her nod. Tipping her head up with a knuckle under her chin, his fingers drifted to her neck. She couldn’t see the bruises forming, but she could tell from his touch, they were there.
“What didn’t you tell me?” His anger was almost palpable, though Nyx knew it wasn’t directed at her.
Nyx wrapped her hand around his wrist. “I didn’t think it would be wise to tell you.”
“Did Petro do that to you?” he asked hotly. “Did he put his hands on you? Strangle you?”
Even now, cold fear snaked its way along her spine as she recalled struggling for air. Terror gripped her as she considered Petro’s hand tightening around her throat and her very genuine belief—though brief—that he was going to kill her.
“He came to my room after dinner. There was a secret passage…I didn’t realize.”
“What did he do? What did he say?”
Nyx closed her eyes, unwilling to repeat the vile words, Petro’s threat to fuck—rape—her from behind, to treat her as his pet. Telling Grigoris about that would only add to the stress he was under, that they were both under.
“He made threats and then he left.”
Grigoris shook his head, his fingers gentle when they touched her neck once more. “It was more than that.”
Nyx was too tired, too frustrated. It made it difficult for her to shield her words, to consider their impact. “I thought he was going to rape me…kill me.”
Grigoris went white with rage, but his coloring was the only thing that betrayed the intensity of his emotions. His hands were steady, his voice unnaturally calm when he spoke again. “You don’t have to worry about either of those things happening. I will kill Petro before he ever lays a finger on you again.”
“He is an admiral. You cannot—”
“I don’t give a fuck.”
“We have too much to do, too many knots to unravel. We need to work, to think rationally. Our emotions cannot blind us to the task at hand.”
Grigoris took a step away from her, and Nyx instantly missed the warmth of him standing close to her. Without him, she felt so cold, so alone.
“Why did you come to my room?”
Nyx stilled, confused by the question. Surely he knew, surely he understood why. Her tired mind whirled, searching for an answer. Not to his question, but to what had driven him to ask such a thing.
“I came,” she said, haltingly, “because I only feel safe with you.”
“You came to feel safe?” Pain dripped from his words, and suddenly it all became clear.
She shook her head quickly. “I came to you because I wanted you, desperately. I’ve spent a lifetime alone and cold. I’m so tired of being numb. With you…with you, there is warmth; with you, I come alive. And I feel. Not pain, not fear, but hope.”
Grigoris studied her face and she steeled her expression, desperate that he see the truth in her words, in her heart.
“Nyx,” he whispered her name, like a prayer.
She reached for him, gripping her fingers into his shirt to pull him back. “Please, Grigoris. I need…you near me.”
Grigoris pulled her into his arms without a moment’s hesitation. The embrace was too brief. Though they were tucked into the alcove, they would be visible should anyone walk by.
“I will always be with you, near you.”
“That is a promise you cannot make. Better to leave out the ‘always’ and add ‘for now’.”
The scowl on Grigoris’ face told her he didn’t like hearing the truth any more than she enjoyed saying it. “You can’t go back to that bedroom. You’ll stay with me, where I can protect you.”
“Petro is gone.” She motioned to the door. “He won’t be using that secret entrance again soon. Besides, it isn’t possible for me to share a room with you, not here, in his house.”
While Nyx didn’t consider herself married to Petro, nearly everyone else in this house—with the exception of Grigoris—did. To flaunt her affair so brazenly would be the height of foolishness, not to mention dangerous.
Grigoris blew out a long, slow breath. “We can’t leave. We have to unravel what happened here tonight. For the first time, the mastermind failed, and that means we might have a chance of figuring out who he is, based on how he failed.”
While she felt like death warmed over, he appeared energized, ready to take on the world.
“All right.” She needed coffee.
“But first, you need to rest. Unfortunately, until we’ve swept the house with a dog and equipment, I don’t want you in a bedroom. You’ll stay with the others.”
“If you think there could be a bomb, perhaps remaining in the house isn’t a prudent idea.” It wasn’t lost on Nyx that Nikolett had said something similar only moments ago.
Grigoris’ lips quirked in a little smile. “Don’t want to get blown up?”
“Not particularly.” She didn’t tell him how terrified she’d felt when the helicopter blew up and she thought he was dead.
His expression turned serious once more. “If the shooter is still out there, it would be too easy to pick off people while we moved you.”
“I also do not particularly want to be shot,” Nyx said.
Grigoris chuckled. “Come on. I need to help them search. You can rest, and maybe listen to what the others are saying, but the priority is to get some rest.”
“What about you? You haven’t slept much either.”
“I’m fine. Once it’s safe, and everyone can go back to bed, I’ll come with you. Set up my laptop in your room. Work there while you sleep.”
“Like you did in the hospital,” she murmured.
“Exactly.”
“But the situations are not repetitive. I’m not going to sleep while you alone reason out the identity of the mastermind’s latest pawn.” Nyx paused, considering what she’d just said, considering the people who’d been at the party tonight—all powerful and intelligent. She looked at Grigoris and lowered her voice. “Or perhaps this attack was carried out by the mastermind himself.”
Grigoris nodded once, stepping out of the alcove. “I know you’re tired, but keep your ears open.”
“I will.” She was also going to keep her back to the wall.
Chapter Eleven
By 6 a.m., the house had been declared bomb-free. Grigoris appeared at the door to the den. Nyx knew he was there even before she saw him walk in with Fedir—she could feel his presence, like a warm breeze that helped her breathe deeply, gave her an instant sense of calm.
She let her body relax, and she sank deeper into the padded bench where she’d been sitting for the past few hours. There were far more comfortable places to sit, but here she had her back to the wall and had been able to keep an eye on everyone. Particularly Nikolett.
“The house is safe,” Fedir said in Hungarian. “You may return to your rooms.”
“When can we leave?” Hans asked, straightening from the chair where he’d been slumped, eyes half closed. He’d spent some time right after they’d been herded in here railing against Grigoris for treating him like cattle, rather than respecting his title of security minister.
Nyx had mostly ignored him, watching Lazar, who’d been brought in by Patty. Despite the crowd in the room, Lazar had been given a whole couch. Patty had stayed with him, seated on the floor. Both of them had fallen asleep, which meant Nyx didn’t have a chance to have a follow-up conversation with Lazar. She needed to know what he’d meant when he said anything Petro might have done to him would be something he deserved.
“The house? Not until I’ve spoken with each of you individually.” Grigoris had shed his easygoing, inconspicuous cloak and looked tall and menacing. The stubble along his cheeks and dark circles under his eyes added to the effect.
“You think one of us shot the admiral,” Nikolett said. “Why? And you think the bomb detonated here is similar to the attack on the admiral of Rome?”
“Yes, this was an attack, just like the one in Rome.”
“Who is behind these attacks?” Nikolett’s gaze slid to Nyx, who didn’t move. They’d had a very interesting conversation several hours ago, when nearly everyone else in the room had been asleep. Nikolett had invited herself to take a seat beside Nyx and not bothered with pleasantries before she’d begun asking hard questions.
“Why are you here?” Nikolett asked quietly.
“I needed to speak with Petro,” Nyx replied. She kept her eyes half closed, her body language relaxed, as if she was half asleep though she was fully awake. The adrenaline from earlier had faded, leaving her shaky and tired, but she wouldn’t fall asleep. She needed to watch and listen. If Grigoris was right, the mastermind, or a close associate of the mastermind, was in the room right now.
“Uh-huh,” Nikolett said. “You show up, and suddenly the admiral is shot and his helicopter blown up.”
Nyx forced herself to remain calm. “I think it’s possible Petro was shot because someone didn’t want me to talk to him.”
Nikolett didn’t mince words. “Or you shot him because you hate him.”
“I didn’t shoot him.”
“You have an alibi?”
She did. A good one. One no one could know about.
“You said this is the first time you attended one of these dinners. Interesting that the first time you are here, Petro is shot and his helicopter is blown up,” Nyx replied, throwing Nikolett’s words back at her.
Nikolett’s brows rose. “Ah, it’s like that then, is it? The gloves are off? I have no wish to go to war with you, Nyx, but I will if I have to.”
“It’s like nothing,” Nyx said softly. She considered leveling a veiled threat at Nikolett, to gauge her reaction, but something stilled her tongue.
“I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here,” Nikolett said quietly. “I didn’t do this, though if you ask around, I’m sure there will be plenty of people who tell you I have a problem with Petro. I don’t support the way he’s created silos within the territory. He’s secretive, as if Romania and Hungary, all of Eastern Europe, were still communist. He doesn’t see the future. He doesn’t see how we need to change.”
Nyx’s heart beat faster, but externally all she did was make a small humming noise, before saying, “I hate Petro.” Nyx felt it as Nikolett’s attention dropped to her neck. She didn’t give Nikolett a chance to ask about the marks. “Nothing will change my feelings toward him. But I do not deny he has provided stability for the territory.”
“Stability is just another way of saying maintaining the patriarchy.”
“Very true.”
Nikolett tapped her palms on her knees before she stood. “I don’t know why you’re here, but if you’re a danger to the people I represent, the people I want to protect, don’t think I won’t do everything in my power to stop you.”
With that, the other woman walked away, leaving Nyx feigning exhaustion, while internally her heart was pounding.
“Who did this?” Nikolett repeated, determined to get an answer out of Grigoris.
“That’s what I’m going to find out. As I said, I think someone here is responsible for the attack on Petro.”
“You’re sure it’s connected to what happened in Rome?”
“There are too many similarities.”
Nikolett frowned. “You mean the bomb?”
Everyone, even Lazar, was sitting up and watching the back-and-forth between Grigoris and Nikolett.
Nyx needed to talk to Grigoris. They needed to have a council of war between themselves before anything else was said in front of the group. Before Grigoris could respond, Nyx got to her feet, walking not up to him, but to Fedir.
“Excuse me. I need to sleep.”
“Of course.” Fedir stepped out of her way, and that broke the tension that held the room.
As she passed Grigoris, she let her fingertips brush the back of his hand, needing that small moment of contact. She felt his hand twitch under hers, but then she was gone, headed through the foyer toward the stairs. At the top she paused, looking around. No one was in sight, so she slid into Grigoris’ room.
It was a risk, but she wasn’t going back to her room, not with that secret entrance, even if Petro was away from the estate. It left her vulnerable to too many other threats.
Still, she leaned against the wall in the corner, where she couldn’t be seen by someone coming in the door.
Half an hour later, the door opened.
“Don’t stab me,” Nyx said quietly. She’d known it was him by the sense of calm and warmth that spread through her.
Grigoris closed the door and locked it. He looked over at her, winked, but did a quick search of the room. He walked casually, as if he were just checking out the amenities, but the knife he held in a backwards grip, the blade along his forearm, offset the nonchalance.
When he was done, he turned to her, sliding the knife into a sheath hidden by his sleeve.
“Hey, beautiful ángelos.”
“We need a council of war.”
Grigoris smiled. “An avenging angel, I see. Perhaps I should call you Michael. Have you come to help me banish Satan’s dragons?”
Nyx personally related more to the archangel Ariel. However, there was no time for a discussion of the Book of Revelations, though she made a mental note to bring the topic up again later. She and Grigoris had engaged in quite a few religious debates during her time on Cyprus. He’d known the best way to counteract her fears was to shut down the hypothalamus and left side of her brain by stimulating the right frontal cortex through lively discussions about theology, spirituality, and morality.
“There were no dragons slain tonight.” Nyx walked across the room and sat on the side of the bed. A vivid memory of what they’d done on that bed flashed through her head and she jumped up, striding over to the window instead. She started to open the drape, pulling it away from the chair he’d draped it over to give them more light.
More light to see one another as they’d had sex.
