Tony’s bearish body shakes from rage but for once, he has the sense to keep his mouth shut.
She strolls past them without a hint of wariness. “Shall we?” It’s as if she’s inviting me out for a drink. As if she didn’t slaughter four men, and there’s no need to ask if I’d be willing to work for her now that Korsakov is dead. I guess there isn’t, because it’s obvious she’s intent on getting what she wants.
I have no more of a choice now with Sofie than I did three years ago with Korsakov. I have traded one murderer for another, and I must go along with it until I can get away from her.
We leave Pidge and Tony, daggers jutting from their wrists, standing in the office filled with corpses. My legs feel like they belong to someone else as they propel me forward, step by step. Every few seconds, I steal a glance over my shoulder, expecting to see Tony there, aiming his gun at my back. But the doorway remains empty.
Sofie doesn’t look back once. “I did warn them. I wish they had listened.” She shakes her head. “But men like them never do.”
“Tony is going to call the guys outside,” I hear myself say, my voice hollow. “They’ll shoot us the second we step out that door.”
“My guards will have taken care of them by now. They are no longer an issue.”
Right.The two scary men in the SUV. I eye the sword in her grasp and the trail of blood it leaves along the concrete. “And who took care of the guys in the office?”
She flashes me the briefest of looks. “Which answer would you prefer?”
“The truth?”
“I have yet to lie to you.”
“How would I know that?”
“You are a clever girl, Romeria. I think you know a great many truths.” Quietly, she adds, “More than you realize.”
“How do you know my real name? Did Korsakov tell you?” I didn’t think even he knew, but there isn’t much he can’t find out. Couldn’t find out.
“Malachi told me. He told me many things before he sent me for you.”
Do I know this Malachi person? Did I meet him on the street? And why has he sent Sofie for me?
I’m about to ask that question out loud when Sofie says, “I will not harm you, but do not try to run.”
There it is, the not-so-subtle threat. I can go willingly—or not—but go with her, I shall.
“Why all this effort? Why didn’t you just force me to leave with you from the hotel?”
“I considered it,” she admits. “We haven’t been given much time to dally. But I would prefer you come with me of your own volition, and it was clear that you felt trapped by that man.” She sighs, as if speaking of a daily nuisance that she has gladly put behind her. “I thought if I helped you with your problem, you might be keener to help me with mine.”
I wouldn’t call this of my own volition.
Maybe it’s because my brain is muddled with shock, but none of this makes any sense. I’m a thief. A highly skilled one, sure, but nothing more. I couldn’t even defend myself against Tony. Meanwhile, Sofie and her men wiped out a major crime syndicate within minutes, without earning a single scratch. “It’s clear you can get your hands on anything you want without my help, so what do you want with me?”
“It is not a matter of want, but of need.” Sofie turns to meet my eyes, and that confident veil she hides behind slips for a moment, long enough that I catch a glimpse of the raw desperation behind it. “I needyou to save my husband.”