Calm Before the Storm (7 page)

Irina pulled the material of her shirt
across her left shoulder. “I already have one,” she said, “exactly the same as
yours.”

Tyr’s brain already vibrating with the
sight and scent of her presence was thrown into shock as he registered yet
another connection between himself and this slip of a girl. He had no
recollection of the tattoo and absolutely no explanation for it. The fact that
she had one too… His brain began to compute. Was she involved with Abrasax? Was
he being set up with her as bait? But this magnetic compulsion he felt toward
her couldn’t possibly be manufactured, could it? It was too real. So tangible
he could almost touch it. More unanswered questions and Tyr was going have to
add them to his growing campaign list. He needed to get out of here. Abrasax
had indicated that he would ensure his release and he hoped to god it was soon.

Irina was still staring at him
suspiciously. With her cheeks flushed and the indignant expression flashing in
those beautiful eyes, she looked like some vengeful goddess of justice. His
gaze was drawn to her luscious mouth as she licked her lips nervously, the
cherry-red sheen a glossy enticement. He wanted to suck.

Before he could speak or act on his
impulse, the booming sound of an explosion rocked the building and Irina stood
frozen in shock as chunks of the ceiling came crashing down around them. Tyr
moved fast, lunging over her, taking the impact of the falling masonry and
forcing the solid weight of his body to curl around her like a cradle.
Protecting, not crushing.

The sound of rapid firing gunshots in the
distance had Tyr grabbing Irina, almost carrying her out into the corridor. He
didn’t know what her involvement was in this scenario but his instinct screamed
at him to protect.
Protect what’s mine.
The corridor was empty. There
were no police standing guard outside the interview room.
Surprise,
surprise.

Tyr could hear the gunfire closing in. He
knew without a doubt that the gunmen were here for him and that this was the
extraction Abrasax had arranged. They wanted it high profile then, wanted to
keep him in the crosshairs to ensure his cooperation. He would go with them
because he needed answers but first he would make sure Irina was safe.

There were a number of empty offices and
Tyr chose the one farthest from the exit. As he opened the door to push her
inside, Tyr couldn’t help pulling her close for a moment. His hold tightened as
he felt her small frame tremble. Protective instincts at the fore, Tyr’s lips
stroked a reassuring caress across her brow. It was torture and it took all he
had, but he managed to wrench himself away, his body protesting the loss of her
warmth but her safety was paramount.

Releasing her almost roughly, Tyr
practically shoved Irina inside the room cautioning her to hide.

“Don’t come out for anything!” he shouted.
“Wait until all the gunfire has died down and you’re sure this is over.”

Her eyes blinked wide in shock. She was
scared but not hysterical.
Brave girl.
He watched as she nodded and
disappeared into the darkness of the room. Shutting the door behind her, Tyr
headed toward the gunfire although every muscle in his body was screaming at
him to go back and protect the girl with the amber eyes. Leaving was the best
protection. If she was not involved with Abrasax and his corruption, then he
did not want to bring her to their attention.

Tyr stayed on course reaching the foyer
area, which was utter chaos. A bomb had decimated the entrance leaving a wake
of carnage and debris scattered across the stairway. A few bodies lay amid the
wreckage, bleeding. Dead. The security guards had been forced back into one of
the side rooms and the space was now controlled by a group of six hulking
mercenaries, dressed from head to toe in black, armed with semi- automatics. As
soon as they saw Tyr, one of them threw a canister, which exploded, producing a
wall of gray smoke. They motioned Tyr toward the exit, escaping out of the
building and into a waiting black van, under the cover of more smoke outside.
The van screeched away at high speed. One of the mercenaries spoke into his
radio.

“Extraction completed. Target secured.”
Pulling off his mask, Tyr’s rescuer scrubbed a gloved hand across his face.
“Hello again, Bellor. Enjoying the ride?” His belligerent growl of welcome
sliced through the shadow.

“Jaro Rodach,” replied Tyr, recognizing the
dark-haired man. “I thought I’d seen the last of you.”

“No such luck.” Rodach smirked, silver eyes
flashing with steely arrogance. “I’m like the proverbial bad penny. Always
turning up when you least expect it.”

“I didn’t know you worked for Abrasax. The
last time I saw you, you had your face flat on the canvas. Your nose was bloody
too.”

“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten, Bellor,
and that was a fluke by the way,” Rodach answered, a distinct challenge in his
voice. “I’m up for a rematch. How about you?”

Tyr sensed some seriously hostile vibes
beneath the urbane silvery tone of his banter. The guy did not appreciate
losing. It had been a while, but Tyr had clear memories of that fight, one of
his first after Sal started training him. He had been nineteen and unbeaten
when they had traveled to a rival gym in the north. Jaro had given him a run
for his money. He was a similar age and build and Tyr remembered being
surprised by the brutal strength of some of his punches. He also recalled the
unchecked rage that had emanated from Jaro as they fought. That had been Jaro’s
weakness. His uncontrollable fury had left him wide open at times, giving Tyr the
opportunity to use his superior tactical brain, anticipating Jaro’s next moves
in advance to send him crashing to the floor. It had been a satisfying victory.

Clearly, Rodach hadn’t forgotten it either
and was holding a serious grudge.
Better watch my back
.

“Pity I’m supposed to deliver you in one
piece,” Rodach continued, stroking the barrel of his gun. “I can think of a
number of other ways to spend this time with you. None of which would be good
for your health.”

“In your dreams, Rodach.” Tyr could feel
his fist clenching, nails digging into his skin. Not because of Rodach but
because he could feel the thread that connected him to Irina stretching like
elastic to its maximum, increasing the distance between them. Separating him
from
her.
He tried to numb himself to the anxiety. Focus on his endgame.
Silky chocolate curls and amber eyes were too big a distraction. Besides, it
was unlikely he would ever see her again and that was for the best. So why did
that thought cause a sharp spike of intense pain in his chest?

The sounds of gunfire had died down and
were finally replaced by shouts and screams for help. Tentatively, Irina
emerged from the small office and made her way cautiously to the door. The
corridor was empty, so she hurried to the front of the building, staring in
horror at the carnage that had been wrought. It was a scene of pure
devastation. Choking back the lump in her throat, she immediately began to help
the injured. A layer of dust and smoking rubble was scattered across the floor
and Irina experienced a wave of nausea as she focused on tying a tourniquet
around the arm of one of the officers who was bleeding. A paramedic arrived and
took her place.

“Thank goodness you’re okay.” A hand
touched her shoulder. “Leo!” she exclaimed, happy to see him. “Glad you’re
still in one piece too. Have you seen Cassi?”

“Yes, a few minutes ago, she was looking
for you so I sent her to the interview rooms.” Irina breathed a sigh of relief.
She could not bear the thought that anything had happened to Cassi.

“I thought you there with Bellor,” Leo
queried. “Where is he?”

“I was, but he shoved me in a room and
disappeared.”

“I see. Dammit!”

Realization sank in. This wasn’t another in
the series of bombings and attacks on government and law enforcement. It had
been a deliberate operation to spring Tyr Bellor from jail. Irina felt sick.
This all pointed to his guilt. All this death and destruction. For him. “He’s
gone, isn’t he? This was all a distraction to get him out.”

Leo nodded. “Doesn’t look good, does it?”
He shook his head wearily. “I was hoping it was all a mistake, but there are
two men dead and a number of injured. They wanted Bellor, badly.”

“I actually thought for a moment that he
might be innocent,” sighed Irina. “How dumb am I?”

Leo rubbed her arm in comfort. “We all like
to see the good in others,” he said, “but sometimes, it’s just not there.” He
gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Why don’t you head home? I’ll get a statement
from you tomorrow about what happened. I’ll find Cassi and tell her you’ve
gone.”

Irina hesitated. Common sense told her to
wait for Cassi but the urge to be on her own was strong. She needed time to
sort through all the disordered thoughts in her head. Time alone. “Okay, Leo,
and thanks.” She turned to go.

“Stay safe!” he called after her.

Outside the building, now a hive of
activity with rescue services and media vehicles, Irina made her way toward the
underground station, heart heavy with the knowledge that Tyr Bellor was now a
wanted criminal on the run. The lingering sweetness of his embrace as his lips
brushed across her brow, curdled to bitter ash. How could she possibly have
felt any kind of connection to him? It was unthinkable. Confused thoughts
meandered to the night her parents and sister had died. It had been an ordinary
Sunday evening. Irina and her sister had been getting ready for bed upstairs
when Frida had decided to go back downstairs for a glass of milk. That was the
last time she saw her alive. Her beautiful older sister had been butchered
alongside her parents in a crime that appeared motiveless and was still
unsolved.

Irina had heard the crash of the front door
as it burst open, the screams of her family as they were attacked. She was
still unsure why she had hidden herself in the toy box that night. Some
instinct for survival had directed her to it, even though at the age of ten,
she hadn’t been old enough to really consider what was happening downstairs.

Even now it was something she pushed to the
back of her mind. Booted feet had rampaged around the house in a frantic
search, but they had taken nothing. She knew that they had been looking for
her, but this was a truth she had been unable to acknowledge for a long time,
racked by guilt. She had known that somehow it had been her fault.

Crunching. Bones cracking.

Booted feet. Blood and death.

The hiding place, a toy box.

Eyes staring out through the hole her
father had made because her sister insisted the toys would need some light.

Light in darkness.

A face scanning the room for hiding
places.

“Bellor!” A shout. A name. “Look for the
girl!”

The boy’s response: “She’s not in here!”

His face intent on the box.

Intent on her as if he could see through
the wooden barrier into her soul.

Black eyes, dark as night.

Fingers to his lips.

Ssshh! A silent plea.

A light switched off.

It all came surging back at that moment.
For years she had struggled to block the images that battered her psyche from
that night. Images a ten-year-old child could barely comprehend and the truth
she had for so long tried to deny. Tyr Bellor
had
been an integral part
of her past. She was convinced he had been present that night, knew she had
seen his face but had always tried to romanticize the memory, to blur the
horror because she felt this sick connection, fascinated by his image of
masculine strength and power. Witness her obsessive collection of press
cuttings. How crazy was she?

After today’s events she was finding it
hard to dispute the evidence that he was no innocent pawn as she wanted to
believe, but a stone-cold murderer. And even if he hadn’t killed Saleos Black,
he was somehow involved in his death. Otherwise, why spring him from jail? And
he hadn’t denied it. But he
had
saved her as a child; she was sure of
it. The tranquility she tried to maintain at all times fractured, betrayal and
hope at war in her heart and head. She had tried to believe that redemption
existed. Her job was proof of that. Now she felt completely lost. The tenuous
thread connecting her to Tyr Bellor was in danger of snapping.
Magnet. Repel
.

“Miss Columba!” A rough voice slammed into
the darkness of her memories. Irina jumped at the sound of her name. She turned
to see Shax Tannin looking at her with concern. “I’ve been sent to make sure
you get home,” he said.

“Oh, that was nice of Leo, but I’m sure
I’ll be fine on the train.” Shax pulled a face. “You’ve had a helluva shock,
and Leo will never forgive me if something happens to you, so come on, I’ve got
a car waiting.” He gently nudged her toward the waiting black BMW with
dark-tinted windows that was idling at the curb. He opened the door and Irina
slid into the backseat. The door closed. It was then that Irina noticed the man
in the front passenger seat. He turned his head, eyes of yellow glowing. Her
mouth opened in a scream that froze in her throat, panic clawing her chest when
she felt a pinprick jab in her upper arm. The interior of the car dissolved,
dizziness descended and then there was only blackness.

* * * * *

Cassi called Merak. The evidence was
irrefutable. She had seen the Taijitu mark on Bellor with her own eyes. Even
amid all the confusion and chaos ofthe bomb blast, her perfect eyesight could not fail to see it as he
ran past her hiding place in the corridor. It was on his right shoulder, a
linear outline of the yin-yang Taijitu symbol, the complementary opposite of
Irina’s mark.

She wondered if he knew it was there. The
fact that Irina’s had appeared this morning after meeting him yesterday meant
that he was definitely the one they had been looking for. He was one half of an
Esseni pairing, and Irina was the other. Potentials no longer, their power
could finally manifest and grow. The problem now was that he had disappeared.
The Discordants had to be shielding him and the minute they saw Tyr’s mark they
would be actively looking for his other half. Irina’s safety was now paramount.
Cassi ended the call to Merak, having given him the details and went to find
Irina, hoping she was unscathed.