The Valiant Page 2

  "Does he think I'm dead?"

  "Of course not. I would never tell him that unless I knew for sure. I told him you were on a business trip."

  "You knew I wasn't dead?"

  "I didn't know until I heard the news about the former president's demise."

  "I heard it was ruled an accident," The Priest says with a sardonic chuckle.

  "I heard that, too. Henri, what were you thinking?" I ask, calling him by his real name. "You know I'm seeing Lorenzo and that I have your son."

  "I was just trying to finish my contract quickly," he says, sighing heavily, "so I could get the money and go into hiding. But, now, as soon as they find out I have failed--"

  "Message them," I order.

  "Later. I want them to hear the news first. Trust me on this, please."

  "You just tried to kill her!" Ari butts in.

  "I am very sorry about that. If my son is safe here under a new identity, I'd like him to stay. Let him think I'm still traveling. Otherwise, he will never be safe again. I might have killed the man who double-crossed me, but there's more going on--more to do with your mother's death."

  "You mean, when you killed her mother?" Ari bellows.

  "Shh," the assassin says. "Yes. I know it sounds crazy, but we're going to have to work together."

  "Are you kidding me?" Ari says, getting more worked up. "Is this who I think it is?"

  "We don't have a lot of time for pleasantries," I say, "but I'd like you to meet Henri Durand, otherwise known as The Priest."

  "He's supposed to be dead," Terrance argues. "You killed him!"

  "Yeah, well, apparently, he got away," I counter. "And the fact that people think he's dead should be reason enough for you to want him on our side."

  "You mean, so he won't try to kill us again?" Ari quips.

  "Exactly. Plus, he's a damn fine shot. He can help us. Terrance, why don't you take him with you?"

  "What am I supposed to do with him?" Terrance says.

  "Just get him to a safe house or something. And get him up to speed on what's going on. He was involved back then; maybe he can shed some light on it now."

  "Fine," Terrance snorts, "but I'm taking his gun away."

  The Priest and I share a look.

  "Ah, crap." Terrance throws his arms up in the air and walks toward the back gate. "Come on, Guy Who Could Kill Me With His Bare Hands; let's be roommates and BFFs." He looks at Ari. "You coming with?"

  Ari nods toward me. "I'm sticking with her like the plague."

  His comment pings around in my brain and then solidifies. "Henri, can you reach The Bartender?"

  "Of course," he replies.

  "Terrance, you're going to need a bigger safe house," I say with a laugh.

  "I'm not following." Terrance looks confused.

  "You know how Olivia was able to find out where the second hit was? The Bartender sets up the supposedly untraceable stuff for Henri. He's a hacker, too."

  Henri nods in agreement. "And a very skilled one."

  "Terrance, I think he and Olivia need to become well acquainted if you want to follow the money trail."

  "But we already know who we are going after next. We don't need his help. Seriously, how can you trust him?" Terrance is not convinced.

  "Because we have his son," I reply harshly, tired of this conversation. "And we need to get him out of here before the authorities arrive."

  Terrance makes a big show of trying to make up his mind but finally acquiesces. "Fine, let's go."

  Henri gives me a quick hug good-bye, whispering, "Trust no one."

  After they leave, Ari and I go into the house through the garden entrance to avoid the scene outside the wall. "This is spinning out of our control," he says.

  "Where were you and Terrance? Lorenzo said you had something to do this morning."

  "We were just following up on some loose ends."

  "And what did you find out?"

  "The account used for the down payment on the hits was traced back to a Delaware-based shell corporation, but the account has been closed, so it's a dead end. I learned that Mr. Dupree is a well-known and well-respected man in London--well, the world really--who owns a large pharmaceutical conglomerate. He donates millions to charitable causes, but exactly how he earns all his money isn't really clear."

  "I'm sure Intrepid could get you a file on him."

  "Oh, he did. British intelligence believes that some of the prescription drugs his company manufactures go missing and end up on the street where the market value is high, but they haven't been able to prove it. With his connections, it's highly doubtful they ever will. It's also quite possible that the Moneyman lied to you."

  "I didn't consider that." I sigh heavily, feeling defeated.

  We don't stay in London for long. Juan is anxious to get Lorenzo back in his own country where he believes he has more control. I don't know if I agree with that assessment, but I am very ready to go regardless.

  As we're boarding the plane, a wave of nausea hits me and I stumble up the steps feeling woozy.

  Then everything goes black.

  MISSION:DAY ONE

  Upon arrival in the Montrovian capital, I am taken to the hospital's royal wing where it is determined that the nausea I was suffering from is due to a level-three concussion and not due to me being pregnant with Lorenzo's love child, as the tabloids would like to believe. I'm told I need to avoid physical exertion, video games, and other electronic devices in order to allow my brain time to heal. And that means staying here for a few days with no distractions.

  Of course, Ari makes numerous jokes about my brain, but he rarely leaves my side. He brings in newspapers and tabloids and reads them to me to pass the time. The world believes the bombing of the Montrovian king's limousine was a terrorist act. The royal press secretary says nothing to challenge this assumption.

  The country of Montrovia mourns together on the third day after the bombing as they lay to rest the four royal guards who died protecting their king. I had gotten to know the men and wanted to attend the funeral, but my doctor wouldn't discharge me--and I have a sneaking suspicion that was on the order of said king, not because I was physically unable.

  I discharge myself on the fifth morning after we get word from Intrepid that Ana's body is being released from the authorities. After her brutal murder at the Moneyman's house, I am determined to give her a proper burial. Especially since they couldn't find her next of kin.

  After the horrors she went through in life, I think it's important she knows that someone mourns her in death. Ari threatens me with all sorts of unpleasantries if I go back to London, but ultimately, he gives in and pays for a lovely service--even if he and I are the only ones in attendance. I cry during the ceremony, wondering if I will face a similar end, but when my brother reaches over and pats my hand in condolence, I know there will be at least one person at my funeral.

  As we are leaving the cathedral, Intrepid phones with the news that all the other girls from the basement are being well taken care of--some reunited with their families, others given shelter and counseling through a foundation Ari set up while I was recovering. He also tells me that the DNA Terrance submitted proves that we are in fact the biological children of Ares Von Allister.

  On the sixth day, I take off the sling that has been keeping my shoulder immobile and make Ari take me to a shooting range as well as spar with me to confirm that my skills are still intact. In my line of work, I can't afford any weakness.

  Lorenzo has been treating me with kid gloves this entire time. I hoped, once we confessed our love, we might consummate it as well, but he seems content in just doting on me. I've declined all interviews, but Lorenzo holds a fireside chat to address his country, vowing to bring those responsible to justice--which is ironic, considering the guy who did it is currently residing in a Montrovian safe house with Terrance and Olivia.

  On the seventh morning, I open my eyes to the wonderful sight of Lorenzo lying next to me. He's already awake a
nd reading from his tablet.

  "You were very sexy during your fireside chat last night," I tell him as I slip my hand under the sheet, running it across his chest. "Your approval ratings must be very high."

  "Approval ratings have nothing to do with my happiness. Only you do." He carefully slides his hand across my hair. "How are you feeling this morning?"

  "Hard not to feel amazing when you wake up in bed with a beautiful man, surrounded by flowers. You've been spoiling me."

  Actually, both he and what seems to be the entire country have been doing so. Ellis is busy monitoring the constant deliveries, not to mention dealing with the security detail Lorenzo insisted on having guard the villa.

  "Wait until you see what I have planned for you tonight. The royal executive chef is currently in the Montanelli Province of Pisa, scouring the countryside for what he calls the diamond of the kitchen--the white truffle--with a fourth-generation truffle hunter. He will fly the truffle home this afternoon and prepare us a decadent meal of a delicate homemade pasta. We will drink the finest of champagnes in the cellar to celebrate your recovery."

  "Sounds like an amazing night. What are your plans for the day?"

  "I have to head to the castle shortly, but first, I have a question for you."

  "What is it?"

  "I am meeting with my mother this morning, and although I can't wait to tell the world of our courtship, I know the moment I share it with her, she will want to make it official with a press conference, which you will need to attend. I've been reveling in the privacy we've been afforded this past week. Is it selfish of me to want to keep our love under wraps for a bit longer?"

  "Not in the least. Plus, it wouldn't be right to announce our good news the same week as the funerals for the men who died while protecting you." He gently pulls me into his arms. "Lorenzo, I'm fine. Did my brother not tell you about our sparring match yesterday?"

  "Sparring? Lee, did the doctor approve of that?"

  "Not exactly, but Ari was careful not to hit my head. Besides, it was important to know if the injuries had affected my abilities."

  "And?" he asks.

  "My shoulder is a bit stiff, and my range of motion is not quite as good as normal. I'd say that side of me is functioning at about three-quarters capacity. The good news, however, is that it did not affect close-range shooting skills. My preferred Sig Sauer P229 weighs in at just under two pounds, but the Dragunov sniper rifle, for example, is much heavier at nearly ten pounds. I was able to shoot the heavier gun. I just wasn't as accurate without support."

  "I've had about enough of snipers," he says, causing me to laugh.

  "You sound like Chauncey when he said he was sick of explosions."

  Lorenzo rolls over, quickly pinning me underneath him. "I still can't believe you talked me into letting the assassin in my country. Are you sure we can trust him?"

  I bite the edge of my lip in consideration, but before I can answer, Lorenzo leans down and kisses me.

  After a few delicious moments of making out, he pulls away.

  "You didn't let me answer," I tease.

  "I already know your answer. What are your plans for the day? More rest and relaxation I hope?"

  "Actually, yes. I'll be spending time by the pool, reading Clarice's diary. There has to be some sort of clue in it."

  "Well, as much as I would like to stay in this bed with you all day, I must get to the palace. Take care, my sweet. I will be counting the hours until I can see you again. I will send a car for you at seven."

  "Um, what would you think if I snuck in the back way, using the passage from the docks to the war room?"

  "Ah, are we having an indecent rendezvous? If so, I must prepare," he teases as he crawls out of bed and gets dressed.

  I sigh in happiness, but Lorenzo's comment makes me wonder what kind of relationship my mother had with Ares Von Allister. Were they just school friends? Were Ari and I the result of a one-night stand? Or could they have been in love and, if so, why were they not together?

  "Did you ever meet Ares Von Allister?" I ask, remembering our fathers were friends.

  "Of course, but it was years ago." He stops in the middle of putting on his suit jacket and sits on the bed next to me. "Did my indecent rendezvous comment make you uncomfortable?"

  I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him close. "Not in the least. Prepare away."

  "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" He squints his eyes.

  "That I love you? Yes. That I want to explore the physical aspect of that love in great detail? Absolutely."

  He smiles but then hangs his head. "I am struggling with my feelings in that regard."

  "Are you saying, you don't want me?"

  "Of course not, my darling." He slides his hand across my cheek. "I am--how can I say this in a way that won't offend you? Eager for that exploration. But, at the same time, I am luxuriating in the slow progress of our courtship. It is refreshing, and I feel like I am able to truly get to know you without all the physical desires taking control." He laughs. "You clearly have me under some kind of spell, for I have never uttered words such as these to anyone."

  "I think your words are the most beautiful I have ever heard spoken, Lorenzo, and I am amiable to your wishes, for I feel the same way. It's interesting that I do. My mother used to tell me to wait for sex until I was in love, but at Blackwood, I was taught the complete opposite--that sex is simply a release of desire. That love should not be involved in the process, for it only impedes your independence and makes you weak."

  Lorenzo's lips press against mine with such force that I am pushed against the tufted linen, which separates my head from the wall behind the bed. I kiss him with equal passion. When the kiss ends, my body is left wanting, and my heart is left swooning.

  "The reason I asked you that question is because what you said made me curious about my mother and biological father's relationship. The fact that he was never in my life suggests it wasn't love."

  "You never know," he says, shaking his head. "People do strange things in the name of love." He finishes putting on his jacket and leans back toward me, slipping a finger under my chin. "Until tonight."

  After he leaves, I lie back in bed and allow myself a few moments to revel in his love. Then I get up, throw on a bikini, order breakfast, and take Clarice's journal out to the pool deck.

  As soon as I sit down, I get a call from Daniel.

  "Your brother tells me your brain is mostly intact," he says, not bothering with a hello.

  "Yes, I'm feeling much better, thank you."

  "But, if that's true, Huntley, why are you still seeing Lorenzo?"

  "Maybe I love him," I say, feeling the need to be up-front with Daniel.

  "I don't think that's going to end well for you," he replies.

  "Because it's dangerous, and I nearly got blown up?"

  "I was thinking more about a specific body part, if you must know."

  "You would," I smart.

  "I was referring to your heart, Huntley. He's going to break yours in two."

  "And you wouldn't?"

  "That's not what this is about," he says with a sigh. "You're my friend. I care about you, and I promised I'd protect you."

  "I appreciate that, Daniel. And you know I feel the same for you."

  "Then come to Omaha on Sunday. The Olympic Trials are starting. You promised to cheer me on."

  "For the actual Olympics."

  "Yeah, but if I don't do well at the trials, I won't make the team, so if you want to cheer me on there, you have to come here."

  "I'm still sort of recovering--" I start to say, but Daniel interrupts me with a laugh.

  "Your brother told me you'd tried boxing with him. You can barely walk in high heels; what made you think you'd have a chance against Ari?"

  I wish I could reply with the truth. Tell him I could kick his very buff ass in a heartbeat or could kill him in less than five seconds, but that's probably not something a girl should brag about eve
n if she wasn't sort of undercover.

  "You're right; I am kind of a klutz," I lie. "Daniel, how well did you know Ophelia and Clarice?"

  "Not very well, more socially."

  "No pillow talk between either of you?" I ask.

  "No way. Ophelia is way too bossy for me--I mean, was. And Clarice, while hot, was a little flighty."

  "Speaking of that, you were supposed to come talk to my dad, too. He's going to be in Omaha for the trials--on the sly. You could kill two birds with one stone."

  I let out a chuckle. Our instructors at Blackwood said never to bother with a stone when a bullet would do. Not that I'd ever kill a bird. Crazy, right? I'd never hunt animals, but people, apparently, I'm okay with.

  "I would like to see the trials," I say, placating Daniel. "Will you have a fan club?"

  "I don't know. I was hoping Lizzie would be able to come, but she has to be in Montrovia that week," he says with what can only be described as a pout.

  "Are you and Lizzie ... do you--"

  "Yes, if you must know, I do like her. She's interesting and beautiful. But her sense of duty to her family is something I don't understand. If it came to a choice, she'd choose them over me."

  "You, of all people, should understand the pressure of being in a prominent family. You're the president's son. Great things are expected of you."

  "Yeah, I guess you're right." He sighs.

  "Wait, are you referring to her possibly having to marry Lorenzo someday?"

  "Yeah." I can tell this upsets him.

  "I don't think you have to worry about that," I reply confidently.

  "Because you think you're going to be his bride?" he mocks.

  "It's too soon to say that, of course--"

  He cuts me off again. "Huntley, come to Omaha."

  "What's even in Omaha--cornfields and tractors?"

  "I'll be in Omaha. That's all that should matter. A promise is a promise."

  "Maybe," I reply even though I have no desire to go. I promised the Olympics, not some trials where I know all he has to do is show up.