Page 76 of Reaper's Desire

I sit at the café table and watch the hotel entrance. My espresso grows cold. The streets grow quieter. A few cars pass, a few late-night wanderers stumble by, but mostly it's just me and the darkness and the knowledge that everything is about to go to hell.

I consider what to do from here. If I go up to her, try to convince her to let me keep her safe, she's going to flip out on me again—and rightfully so. Even though it's foolish of her to ignore the danger, I understand why. None of this is normal to her, and she's lashing out. And I deserve all of what she might fling at me. I deserve her fury, her hatred, whatever rage she wants to direct at me.

But before I can figure out what my plan of action is, I see him.

A tall, broad-shouldered man enters the hotel through the side entrance. I recognize him immediately—Dmitri. Stanislav's second.

My entire body goes rigid. He's not supposed to be here yet. They shouldn't have moved this fast or found her this quickly. But they did.

And now Dmitri is inside the hotel, moving through the lobby with purpose.

I watch through the window as he approaches the front desk. He says something to the clerk—probably asking for a room number, probably using some bullshit story about being Isabelle's friend or colleague. The clerk hesitates. Dmitri leans in closer, his voice dropping. His hand moves to his jacket pocket.

The clerk's face goes pale. He types something into the computer and writes something on a piece of paper. Dmitri takes the paper and heads toward the elevator.

I'm on my feet in an instant. The espresso cup hits the table as my chair scrapes back, and I hurry across the street, my cap pulled low. The clerk looks up, startled, as I blow past the desk.I don't bother to stop and explain. I just head straight for the stairs, taking them three at a time.

Dmitri is in the elevator. He'll reach the third floor in seconds. I reach the third-floor landing and push through the door into the hallway. It's empty.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. Dmitri steps out, his hand already moving to the gun at his waist. And I move toward him with lethal purpose, abandoning the shadows. The only thought in my head is that I have to protect her. Even though she hates me, even though she wants me gone, I'm protecting her. That's what you do when you love someone.

Even when they don't love you back.

20

ISABELLE

I'm sitting on the edge of the hotel bed staring at my phone when I hear the knock.

My entire body goes rigid. No one should be knocking on my door at this hour unless something is very, very wrong. In fact, no one should be knocking on my door at all. No one knows I'm here.

I haven't slept. How could I? Every time I close my eyes, I see Julian's face when the photo fell out of his wallet that proved he was hired to kill me.

The knock comes again, louder this time. More insistent. I stand slowly, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. I move toward the door, my bare feet silent on the carpet. "Who is it?" My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

No answer. Just another knock. My hand trembles, and I take another step, unsure if I should open the door or not.I shouldn't.But whoever is on the outside…

Before I can decide what to do, the door explodes inward.

Julian bursts through, his eyes wild and his entire body coiled like a weapon ready to strike. "We need to go. Right now."

The sight of him snaps the last fraying thread of my emotions, and I explode just like that fucking door.

"Get out! Get the fuck out of my room!"

"Isabelle, listen to me?—"

"No!" I'm shaking with rage, with the sheer audacity of him showing up here after everything. "You followed me! I told you to leave me alone, and you followed me!"

"Someone is coming," he says, his voice urgent. "We don't have time for this."

"I don't believe you," I hiss venomously. "You're a liar. You've been lying to me since the moment we met. Why the hell would I believe anything you say now?"

His jaw tightens. "Because I'm trying to keep you alive."

"You were hired to kill me! You were supposed to murder me, and instead you?—"

"I refused the contract," he says, desperation and irritation warring together in his voice. "I told you that. I'm not going to kill you. Isabelle, we don't fucking havetimefor this?—"