Fire and Ice (Guardians) Read online

  "I'm going to check it out. You'll be okay?"

  "I'll be fine."

  Maia woke up with a start. She must have dozed off for a bit again. The food and meds combined made her very groggy. Where was Jack? How long had she been out? She checked the clock, and it looked like he had been gone for less than 10 minutes. But hadn't she been woken up by a sound?

  It was then that she noticed something that sent ice coursing through her veins. She had put the pistol Jack had given her down on the coffee table and now it was gone. Before she could move, a hand clamped down on her mouth and she was jerked to her feet. Another arm wrapped painfully around her waist locking in both her arms as she was slammed into a hard chest.

  A sinister voice rasped beside her ear, "Sergei says hello, suka. Now you pay."

  Spinning her around he backhanded her viciously, causing her to crash onto the coffee table and shatter the glass top. He pounced on her instantly, dragging her by her hair to pull her up to face him. He was huge, almost six foot six of bulky muscle; she recognized him as the third man from the boat—the sniper. Maia spat at his face in defiance. She tasted blood and quickly checked her teeth—all still there.

  "Such a waste. Your man is out back fucking with a generator while his woman gets fucked inside."

  The man continued to hold her by her hair while telling her what he intended to do to her: how he was going to make her pay for killing his comrades, how he was going to shoot her after he fucked her.

  Maia kicked out but he blocked it and threw her off balance as she fell on the floor and hit her head. Her head exploded in pain as she felt a heavy weight settle on her legs immobilizing her lower body.

  She felt the cold barrel of a gun under her chin as his hand began roaming under her shirt to squeeze her breasts.

  "Scream. He can't hear you. Fight me. I want you to fight me." He ground his crotch against her thighs.

  God, he was a sadistic sonafabitch, Maia thought frantically. She was greatful that real lust was winning over blood lust, because he could simply have shot her. She knew of some assassins who liked to play with their mark. She bucked beneath him, but he was too strong so she grabbed his hand that held the gun and squeezed with all she had. It was an exercise in futility. She was no match for his strength especially in the condition she was in.

  "Ah, such a little fighter, you make me hard, you red-haired witch. Just a taste, then I shoot your brains out, suka."

  Maia felt her shirt rip.

  ***

  The generator exhibited no immediate signs of malfunction that Jack could determine. It didn't help that the wind and rain were relentless and made troubleshooting the faulty machinery challenging. The natural gas line was open and feeding correctly, and all the fuel lines and connections were intact. Jack shone his flashlight across the casing and then frowned—one of the screws that held the panel cover for the internals of the generator was 1/8 of an inch from being fully tightened. It had been tampered with.

  It felt like an anvil had settled in his gut as he pushed away from his crouched position to tear back towards the house. He heard a crash that sounded like shattered glass. Maia!

  Jack drew and cocked his gun. He sidled up by the wall and peeked through the slats of the blinds of the balcony. The only lighting was from the few emergency lights and the glow cast by the fireplace, but he clearly saw a giant of a man hauling Maia up by her hair. Fury ratcheted up inside him as he dashed to the front door and carefully opened it. The scene before him made him lose all control. The intruder had ripped Maia's shirt apart, his intent apparent and she was struggling against him like a wild cat, gripping his wrist that held the gun.

  With a roar, Jack tackled the assassin off of Maia, toppling the man to one side and pounding his face with his fists. The man threw Jack over, reached for the gun that had slid under a side table and lurched up to shoot him. Jack delivered a roundhouse kick that knocked the gun away, so the two men continued to tussle with each other. The assassin had 50 lbs. (probably of solid muscle) over Jack, but Jack was the better brawler.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Maia pick up the gun.

  "Stay out of this, Maia!" Jack ordered. This man was his. He was going to pour out all the frustration he had felt when Maia went missing and all the rage that was consuming him right now.

  A right hook to the face followed by a sharp jab to the solar plexus sent the behemoth hunching over before Jack finished him off by cracking the guy's forehead brutally against his knee. The assassin teetered backwards, falling unconscious on the floor.

  Jack scrambled over to Maia who was pointing the gun at the fallen intruder. Lit up by the fireplace, he did a quick body scan and noted furiously that Maia was bleeding from her mouth. He cupped her face and said, "Guard him. I'll go get some restraints. He moves, don't even hesitate to shoot him, you hear me?"

  She nodded. Jack hated to leave Maia with the assassin, but he needed a minute to clear his head before he ended up shooting the guy to get it over with. He was racked with self-loathing: he couldn't fucking keep Maia from being harmed. He found some plastic restraints and quickly returned to the living room. The assassin was still out cold, and Maia was sitting on the arm of the couch looking drained. Jack nudged the man over and secured his feet and hands behind his back. He then hoisted the body across his shoulder in a fireman's carry and deposited him in a chair by the kitchen.

  "Let's try this one more time," Jack said ominously. He had worked Boris over for some answers, striking him repeatedly with his taped fists. "Where is Reznikov?" The thugs Reznikov had sent in the boat were European mercenaries. This one was Russian. He said his name was Boris which was probably a lie. So far Boris had not revealed much except that Reznikov now knew that Maia was in Westcove. They had been casing out the small Outer Banks community even before Brett's picture had hit the tabloids. The disappearance of Benny, Syd and Tommy had tipped off Reznikov's radar, so Westcove received priority reconnaissance.

  The assassin laughed mirthlessly as he spat out some blood. "That's all I can tell you. Cut off my fingers, my balls, I don't care. Nothing you can do could be worse than if I go back to Reznikov now."

  "Jesus, and you work for this guy?"

  "He pays well."

  "Well enough to have your balls served to you?"

  The man clamped his mouth shut. He'd give him credit for a mean left-hook, though, Jack thought as he rubbed his aching jaw.

  There was a knock on the door.

  "Will you get that Maia, that must be Tanner."

  He called the detective/DEA agent the minute he had gotten Boris settled in the chair. Rick wasn't too happy heading out in the eye of the storm but was more than interested when Jack told him who he had in custody.

  "Hey sweetie, you okay?" Tanner asked and kissed Maia on the forehead before striding into the house.

  "I'm good."

  "We really need to stop meeting like this," Rick added teasingly as Maia laughed softly.

  "Tanner, quit flirting with my woman and get over here," Jack growled.

  Maia's brows knitted together at his words. Yeah, deal with it, you're mine, Jack thought to himself.

  "Well, you seem to be doing a bang-up job of taking care of her," Rick shot back but stop himself short when Jack skewered him with a murderous look.

  Observing Boris's bloodied face, Tanner said, "Damn it, McCord, have you not read all the news on police brutality?"

  "I'm not the police."

  "Well, I can't take him back to the station looking like that."

  "I'm sure your other boss will take him."

  "Personally, I can't fault your methods, interrogation by candlelight—charming."

  "Quit with the wise cracks, Tanner, it's been a long day," Jack said wearily.

  Rick whistled as he saw his face. "I can see that. Looked like you ran into a brick wall."

  The brick wall being Boris. "No kidding," he muttered.

  Rick looked thoughtfully at Maia and
said, "Will you be in top form by this weekend?"

  "I believe so."

  Jack assumed the cryptic exchange was for Boris's benefit, but he knew they were talking about Baltimore.

  The generator was restored to working condition, Boris had removed a capacitor that powered the switching mechanism. Luckily they had found the device on his person, and the house was now humming with natural-gas-powered electricity. Jack wouldn't put it pass Boris to have rigged the transformer to explode at a certain time. The power company couldn't fix it until the Nor'Easter blew over next morning.

  Jack checked Maia's body for glass fragments, but she had surprisingly not gotten any in her. She had a lump on the back of her head and another bruise forming on her cheek. His face was not better. The giant brute had gotten in a few licks and he now sported a shiner and a cut on his cheek.

  "You should just have shot him," Maia said as she rubbed some lotion on her elbows. They were in his bathroom getting ready for bed. Jack couldn't wait to have Maia's body pressed close to his. Just a night without it and he missed it like hell.

  "Could have hit you," Jack said shortly as he applied some strips of white tape to hold the cut on his cheek together. In truth, he had an overwhelming urge to beat the guy to a pulp; a quick easy death with a gun would have been too good for him.

  Maia stood up on tip-toe and kissed his good cheek. "Thanks, Jack, for saving me."

  "I shouldn't have left you alone."

  "Don't. If anything it was my fault for falling asleep."

  "Maia, you were high on pain killers, what was I thinking?"

  "Jack, stop this."

  "It was fucking stupid! He almost got you!" Jack shouted angrily. He spun away from her and rested his hands on the counter, his head bent low. He was breathing hard.

  Jack knew he was working himself up with remorse. But everything that had happened to Maia had, indirectly, happened because of him: he had told her to protect his parents and Brett, he had left her alone to go check the generator.

  "It made me realize one thing," Jack whispered still not looking at her.

  "What?"

  "I can't let you go."

  "Jack, you're not making sense. What do you mean you can't let me go?"

  You're mine, Jack wanted to tell her but it was not the time. She was going to resist and the last thing she needed right now after that bump on her head was to get worked up. He turned to look at her.

  "Nothing babe, I'm rambling. Let's get you into bed before you fall over."

  "I'm really feeling better."

  "Uh-huh. You've got an egg-size bump on your head. Tanner is right, I'm doing a bang-up job of keeping my woman safe."

  "I wish you wouldn't refer to me as your woman."

  "Why not?"

  "Because, I'm really not, it makes me uncomfortable and it sounds ... primitive."

  "I believe you called me a Neanderthal once," Jack smirked.

  "Well, you are..."

  "Let's get you to bed babe, really. No more arguing."

  "See, that's what I mean. You ... are ... too ... bossy!"

  Jack marched Maia to bed as she sputtered her response in irritation. He didn't say anything, just continued grinning as she slipped under the covers and he got in behind her and pulled her to him. He gave her a chaste kiss on her lips that surprised her.

  "Don't want you all hot and bothered and have you jump me, I'm beat." In actual fact, Jack felt his cock stirring but he forced himself to cool it.

  "You conceited ass."

  "Night, babe." He huffed into her hair.

  It didn't take long for Maia to fall asleep. Jack watched her beautiful face in repose.

  "Mine," Jack whispered fiercely, his arm tightening around her waist.

  "What?" she murmured sleepily.

  "Shhh... nothing. Sleep, babe."

  Jack stayed awake for a while. As tired as he was, he was afraid that if he fell asleep he would wake up to find her no longer there, that she would still be lost at sea or that the big burly assassin would have gotten to her.

  ***

  Maia had woken up to an empty bed. She was not surprised because Jack had always been an early riser while she really wasn't fully awake until noon unless she ran in the morning. The back of her head still throbbed, but she had decided against any more pain medication. Those pills screwed with her alertness and had almost gotten her killed. Jack was so torn up with what had happened, she could see the torment in his eyes. She didn't think that she could ever convince him that it wasn't his fault, that shit like that happened to her all the time. Maia was not clueless, she knew Jack was beginning to care for her. But she also knew extreme situations could bring about a rush of emotions in a person that were not real and long lasting.

  She took a leisurely shower, letting the spray of hot water soothe her aching limbs before switching to a blast of cold water to wake her up. She studied her reflection in the mirror: there was a slight bruise on her cheek but color had returned to her lips. Her body had a few scratches and bruising right around the ribs. Other than that, she should be in fighting shape in a few days.

  It was almost 11 am before Maia decided to dress in sweat pants and head downstairs. Grace should be puttering around and she wondered what Jack was doing. She heard low voices in the kitchen, one was Jack's and the other sounded very familiar.

  "Derek!" Maia exclaimed as she flew down the rest of the steps and flung herself into her friend's open arms, almost knocking him over.

  "There she is," Derek replied warmly. "You don't look any the worse for wear."

  "What are you doing here?"

  "Well, I needed to see for myself how you had come back from the dead yet another time."

  "That's not why you're really here," Jack interjected brusquely. "So why don't you cut the bullshit and tell us the real reason, Derek."

  "Really, Jack, no need to be so hostile."

  "Well, I've been trying for the last half-hour to get something out of you."

  "What time did you arrive?"

  "About an hour ago, Jack whisked me straight to his study to interrogate me."

  "That was business."

  "Bullshit. Half of the questions were about Viktor and Baltimore."

  "Jack, I told you to lay off that," Maia said in exasperation.

  "Sorry, sweetheart, that's not me."

  Jack never called her sweetheart unless he was pissed or being sarcastic.

  "So back to my question: what are you doing here?" Maia asked.

  Derek sighed, reached into his pocket and handed her a smartphone. "Viktor wanted me to give you this."

  Jack turned livid with anger. "She's not yet fully recovered," he said furiously. "It's barely been 48 hours."

  "See, I hate getting caught in the middle of this," Derek said. "It's almost like a messed-up love triangle."

  Jack's face grew darker. Maia was controlling a grin.

  "Viktor is worried that he has no way of contacting you," Derek continued. "Oh, stop scowling, Jack! You're with Maia, Viktor comes with the package."

  "Like fucking hell!"

  Maia started laughing.

  "This is not funny!" Derek and Jack said at the same time, Derek in a mocking tone, Jack in a pissed-off one.

  "Oh, Jack, you're playing straight into Viktor's twisted sense of humor. He likes messing with my men."

  "Your men?"

  The air turned frosty.

  "How many did you have?"

  Maia paused, an expression of concentration on her face.

  "What, can't keep track of them?" Jack sneered, his voice rising.

  "Stop being a damn hypocrite. How many girlfriends did you have?"

  "Twenty-one excluding the one-night-stands."

  "Jeez, how do you keep up without a deli ticketing machine?"

  "You can't fucking answer a simple question?"

  "All right, I had two relationships and uh... seven hookups."

  "So what am I?"

  "You're my
seventh hookup."

  Jack looked thunderous. His glare could have speared Maia to the wall. He regarded her for a few seconds and then turned around, stalked away and slammed the door to his study behind him.

  "I don't trust his retreats," Maia murmured to Derek.

  "I don't either," Derek replied. "I think he's a little pissed that he'd been relegated to hookup status."

  "Well, he's hardly a relationship. We've been together barely a week."

  "So, you are together?"

  "I don't know, it's darn confusing. Jack keeps changing the rules."

  Derek looked thoughtful for a moment. "I think you've gotten under his skin and he doesn't know what to do about it. Jack hates feeling vulnerable. Never seen him out of sorts like this. Interesting."

  "Well, I don't want to get under his skin. I need to be out of here by Friday and if he tranquilizes me again or cuffs me to the bed, there will be hell to pay."

  "Cuff you to the bed?"

  "He has threatened to."

  "Good God, what have you done to him. The man has lost his mind!" Derek actually guffawed.

  "It's not funny. May I remind you about the last time you let him get away with tranquing me?"

  Derek had the decency to look contrite.

  "How long are you staying?" Maia changed the subject.

  "Not sure. As long as you are here, I think. Jack conscripted me to provide additional security," Derek said. "Now, I'm not sure I want to. I hate to be caught in the crossfire."

  "We're usually sweet together."

  "That might be worse," Derek answered dryly. "So, does Lee count as one or three?"

  "Oh, shut up, Derek."

  CHAPTER TEN

  A black Toyota 4Runner pulled up behind a blue late-model Bentley sedan in an alley off West Read Street in Mount Vernon, Baltimore.

  A man dressed in a leather jacket, dark jeans and combat boots got out of the SUV and rapped at the heavily tinted windows of the sedan.

  The door opened to reveal a blond man in his mid-forties. He was attired in an expensive Armani suit that set off his handsome but cruel face. Sergei Reznikov.