Page 37

Louhi

I dare to let out the breath I’ve held captive for months. Sinking into the seat behind Sean, I slip my feet into Honey Eyes’s too-big boots. When I sit up, my attention toggles between his back muscles pinching and flexing and the island drifting further away, unsure which sight is more alluring.

“Where are we anyway?” I ask.

“Three hundred miles off mainland Hawai’i.”

“What’s your plan?” I wonder aloud.

“My plan only gets us to Hawai’i.”

I smirk smugly at his back and chime, “Then it’s a good thing you brought me along.”

He snorts, and we fall silent as we coast over the waves. Rain begins to trickle slowly from the sky, dotting the water around us like pockmarks.

“So, I take it the alarm and sprinklers were your doing?”

Facing away from me, he shouts over the rain, motor, and waves, “Yeah, Jace—Honey Eyes—packed the boat with supplies and moved it to the beach yesterday, and I set off the emergency system and disconnected the power that locks the cells. Then we made our way out here separately under the guise of hunting down escaped prisoners and met up about half an hour before you got there. ”

At this point, it feels odd to refer to Honey Eyes by anything other than the nickname I’ve given him, so I ask, “Is Honey Eyes going to get in trouble for any of this?”

“He shouldn’t. We blamed the murders of Borman, Jones, and Davis on you, and he’ll pin your escape on me. They’ll definitely question him, but he’ll be fine.”

I get to my feet, taking shelter under the Bimini top next to Sean to get out of the drops of rain steadily beating down. I sat there longer than I probably should, letting the sky’s tears soak my face. It’s been so long since I enjoyed the feeling of being outside, no matter the weather. The cleansing didn’t hurt either.

“That’s fairly devious, Sean,” I tease, placing a hand gingerly on his bicep. “Perhaps you belong in my world, after all.”

He smirks, but before he can reply, spotlights glide over the boat. My eyes hit Sean’s face like a bullet, and he rushes to answer my silent question. “Under all of the seats.”

Racing to the seat I vacated, I lift the cushion to find a knapsack full of weapons. I love an arsenal. I toss him a Glock that he catches and pull a loaded magazine from the sack. I swap the half-empty magazine that was loaded into the assault rifle that I brought onto the boat with me into the sack and load a fresh one.

Crouching down, I aim the rifle over the stern at the boat full of men chasing—hunting—us. As I look through the scope, waiting for a clear shot, curiosity and concern seep into my skin like lotion and I call back to Sean, “Are you going to be able to shoot at your own men?”

“They aren’t my men anymore.” His tone has a bite behind it that I don’t miss.

“So, if you need to kill one of them, you can do it without hesitation?” I’m challenging him on this, because it’s not simply his life at stake here. I haven’t come this far, only to die because the man next to me has a crisis of conscience. There’s no room for that here. I need to be able to trust Sean with my life and safety. He’s proven that so far, but having to kill his men—his mates—is entirely different.

When he doesn’t answer me as quickly as I’d like, I glance over my shoulder at him, my mouth open to snap at him, but he lifts his handgun and immediately fires two shots in the other boat’s direction. Actions speak louder than words, I suppose.

“When I said I was with you, I meant it.”

I smile, looking back through the scope as I map out a plan. I wait one beat, then another before ordering Sean, “Take a hard left.”

The other boat returns Sean’s fire just as he follows my instruction, and the second the engine comes into view in the scope, I fire four rounds, knocking out each engine. Sean speeds away again, and I fire a few more rounds at the other boat, just for fun. With the gun and my attention still trained on the boat in the increasing distance, I admit, “I won’t doubt you again. Trust is…hard for me.”

He doesn’t respond, though I know he heard me.

Once the other boat is out of sight, I move to seek shelter from the rain in the cockpit.

“Lou,” Sean says mildly, “This will never work without complete trust in each other.”

I nod, swallowing hard. The two words that leave my lips are a phrase I’ve never spoken to anyone in my adult life, and I find them incredibly difficult to form. “I’m sorry.”

He studies me, and I can just make out the silver of his eyes, even swathed in the dark cloak cast by the sky. “Don’t be. Just tell me this will work. Tell me I didn’t just throw my life away for a woman who doesn’t trust me. Tell me that I didn’t just wreck everything by loving someone who can’t return the feeling.”

My eyes bug out of my bloody skull and my breath catches. Locking my gaze onto his, my voice is tender as I reply honestly, “You didn’t. You make every day end brighter than it began. I’m with you too, Sean.”

It’s the closest I’ve ever come to telling someone I love them. My chest burns, but it doesn’t hurt; instead, it feels like someone ignited my heart, lighting up the darkness that’s resided there for so long.

He sets his Glock in a small cubby to the right of the wheel before reaching out and cupping my cheek. With his skin against mine, the gesture feels like everything wholesome and right in this world. I swear I can hear our breaths over the breaking of the surf and the howling of the stormy wind, and I know that my heart is hammering faster than the rain pelting down around us. When I obliterate the miniscule distance, I snake a hand around the back of his neck as our lips crash like the waves around us.

His soft lips feel like home, like safety and warmth. I deepen the kiss, parting for him to gain access to my mouth, desperate for more of him. When his tongue sweeps inside, he tastes like deliverance, and I indulge in that delicious freedom like fine wine.

He feeds me his proclamation from earlier, love now dancing on my tongue as his hand glides down my back, welding us together.

I’ve never coveted love before, but now that I have Sean’s, I’ve been transformed, irrevocably changed. Or perhaps that’s simply because I might love him, too.

Right there in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, on the run, standing on a stolen boat with a man who lied, disobeyed, and killed for me, I feel more at ease than I’ve felt in the whole of my life.

There’s no escaping this connection.

There’s no escaping him.

His kiss communicates everything his words don’t, and I let the moment cocoon me in its warmth, basking in its heated glow.

When our lips finally part, he dips his head once more, connecting our lips in a gentle, chaste kiss before murmuring, “So perfect.”

My heart soars, and I smile when he pulls away, a genuine display of joy and comfort written on my face as I tumble into the chair next to him.

Silence falls between us as I look around at the vast open ocean. The hum of a motor cuts into the dreary night and with another sigh, I get to my feet, stalking back to where I left the rifle at the rear of the boat. Sinking down, I look through the scope and call out to Sean what I see. “Two boats gaining on us.”

He guns it, and the adrenaline from a few hours ago is waning, leaving only ire in its wake to fuel me. Real freedom is so close, and the idea of losing the fight fills me with anger.

Remembering a story of mythology my father once told me, I find myself wishing that I could summon Syoj?t?r to fight our enemies, but the Finnish mythological goddess of snakes isn’t here. She’s not sitting on a rock in the middle of this ocean combing through her hair, waiting to be summoned to go to war for us. She’s not turning her snakes upon the men after us. But I’m not Louhi, the Finnish goddess of death, calling upon her daughter for aid. I’m only Louhi Koskinen, mortal woman and assassin. There’s only me out here and the fiery rage coiled inside me. Well, and Sean.

As soon as the first boat is within range, I fire a shot and a soldier in the boat drops. I pick off a second, third, and fourth. Two more men remain, the rocking of the boat making this more challenging than it would be otherwise.

There aren’t many things I enjoy more than pulling triggers, except for sleeping with my pillow and maybe creating a unique death for someone. As I slip a new magazine into the rifle, I take a breath and zero in on my next target.

I finally get another shot off and when only the boat’s captain is left, I leave him for Sean. When the other boat is finally within view, I begin the process anew. Bullets whizz past me, some lodging themselves in the side of the boat, one landing in the cushion by my calf, but I ignore them all as I pull the trigger again and again.

After what feels like forever, one boat retreats while the other is left floating without anyone living to man it.

“How much farther to the mainland?” I inquire over the patter of rain .

“About one hundred and seventy-five miles.”

Bringing the rifle with me, I make my way back to the seat next to Sean and get comfortable.

“You’re pretty good with that thing,” Sean remarks, nodding to the rifle at my side.

“I’ve been a sharpshooter since I was eighteen.”

Folding my legs underneath me, I survey the dark open water surrounding us. “If you could choose a single weapon in the world, what would you pick?”

His head slides toward me and his eyebrow cocks. “Seriously, that’s what you want to talk about right now?”

I lift a shoulder. “Why not? It’s not as if we have anything better to talk about. Call it getting to know each other.”

He rolls his eyes, which makes me smile, but he answers, “Handgun, if I have unlimited ammo. If not, then I guess my utility knife.”

“Your Glock or something else?”

“Probably a Glock. They’re simple and reliable.”

He’s right about that. They’re made of far fewer pieces, making them easier to disassemble and reassemble. But like most things, if you treat them right, they’ll do right by you.

Thinking of Conall and Viktor, I muse, “I have a friend who opts for a Desert Eagle and another who always carries a .44 Magnum.”

“Based on the caliber of those weapons, I’m going to go out on a limb and assume those aren’t law-abiding friends?”

I titter softly. “Not exactly.”

He nods, but I can see the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. After another beat or two, he sighs, “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what weapon would you choose if you could only have one.”

“Brilliant question.”

He hits me with a blatant what the fuck? look, uttering, “It was your question. ”

“So?” I respond with a shrug. “It’s still a brilliant question.”

His chuckle is loud, free, and I find myself following suit. It’s nice to see him laugh, since stoicism and graveness seem to be his default.

“Believe it or not, I’m not picky. Put any sort of weapon in my hand and I’ll smile. But if I had to choose one, it’d be a rifle, specifically a .338 Lapua Magnum. Although, when it comes to my work, I’ve been gravitating toward poison lately. Not because I don’t want to get my hands dirty, but because I love the way it eats people alive from the inside out. It’s violent and exhilarating. I can slip it to them, watching them unravel and succumb to the toxin over the span of hours while they have no idea what’s happening to them.”

I’m not entirely sure why I revealed all that information. Perhaps it was a gesture of trust, though maybe it was a test. I wanted to see how Sean would react to a truth like that. He only nods, though, his expression unreadable.

“Does it bother you that I’m an assassin?” I ask curiously.

Slowly, he slides his gaze toward me, the action highlighted by the dim lights of the dashboard of the boat. Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head before clarifying, “Lou, I’m walking into this thing with you with my eyes wide open. I know who you are, and I’ll never stop you from pursuing the life you want. Besides, the lines between right and wrong are blurring more for me every day.”

Unlike most people, I grew up with a warped sense of right and wrong. Morality is rooted entirely in the perspective you have, and I shaped my own stance long ago, but Sean needs time to evaluate exactly what his view on that subject is.

I nod in understanding, turning to face the ocean, so he doesn’t see the smile on my face, my heart fluttering wildly in my chest like a trapped moth.