Romance: Wanted by the Alpha Lion (A BBW Paranormal Suspense Romance) (Heroes of Shifter Creek Book 2) (38 page)

I.

              The day felt colder than usual with dark clouds hiding the sunlight. A calm, yet melancholy, silence spread across the military-compound-hiding-as-a-hostel-for-college-students. A tall, thin man stood next to a shorter (but still slim), slightly younger man, watching as an armored vehicle pulled away. The tall man waved; the other only watched.

              “I think it’s okay to wave to your friends, Leo,” the tall man said plainly. “You may not see them again.”

              “Isn’t it unprofessional to call me ‘Leo,’ Sir?” the younger man replied. “Shouldn’t you call me ‘Rubin’?”

              “Perhaps. I was mostly just showing you some compassion since you seemed sad,” the man shrugged. “Drop and give me twenty for talking back.”

              Leo sighed and dropped to his push-up stance.
Why say anything at all?

              He thought of his condition as his body ached from the exertion. He’d joined the Navy with his friends, Jimmy Canton, Orion Morello, and Petey Farson, to escape the disappointment and shame of not getting into Stanford, his ultimate dream. He’d moved on to become a Navy SEAL because his friends had too – they formed the continued goals of his life. He’d wanted to be an academic, but he ended up being an elite soldier, proficient at outwitting his opponents.

              Now, his friends scattered across Europe, while he stayed put in Russia, their first shared base. Jimmy went off to Poland to investigate the rumor of an enemy stronghold there; Orion joined Jimmy’s step-sister, Nina Baldwin, on an undercover mission in Ukraine to find escaped enemy leaders; and Petey lay in a hospital somewhere, wounded from dropping his gun and shooting himself in the knee after a gunshot wound. He’d survive, but the embarrassment would remain for much longer than his wounds. Three of the others in the squadron (who Leo never learned the names of) were killed along the way – one poisoned at the first leg of the mission, one shot down in the street after approaching the enemy, and one shot in the face at the final battle where Petey was hurt.

The last man in their squadron, Orion’s brother Cassius, betrayed them and ran off with an enemy agent.
Should’ve known that would happen, the little shit.
Cassius wasn’t made for such death and destruction. He was meant to be a corrupt politician like his father.

Leo decided to stay behind because he could still work closely with Commander Jones, their leader. Leo liked the analytics and planning of missions plus, his part of the mission was to help the civilians being murdered in a new form of terrifying Gulags. After seeing the destruction in their last battle, which had taken down several organized crime leaders and soldiers, Leo wanted to protect the innocent from the horror. He felt he could handle death and destruction better than the innocent.

“All right, Rubin. That’s enough,” Commander Jones chuckled. “You did more than twenty, but I didn’t have the heart to stop you.”

Leo stood, feeling slightly embarrassed by getting lost in his own head. “Thank you, Sir.”

“It’s my job,” he answered. “Since it’s just the two of us now, I will go over the expected training regimen and our mission. I am still working out some things.”

“Like what?”

He made a face, “I’m worried our position may have been compromised, so we may be moving to a new area. For now, let’s just do the normal regimen we’ve been doing and some target practice, understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some logistics to work out.”

Leo sighed. Normally, he felt a certain solace in the training regimen – it rarely changed. He mostly disliked deviation from set systems. The military gave him consistency and organization yet, since his friends had left, consistency mattered less. Commander Jones had become somewhat warmer toward him, but loneliness snuck in every so often. He hoped more SEALs would come out, or they could at least go out into civilization as they had before. Going out to the bars for intel was actually quite fun.

BANG! The unmistakable sound of a gunshot shattered his thoughts. He fell to the ground instinctually, hoping he hadn’t been hit.
I don’t feel anything. Might be all right.
BANG! BANG! He rolled to the brush near the running track, then peeked out from behind it to scope the scene. He saw no one. He wished he grabbed his gun before coming outside – he normally didn’t need it for the physical training.

He honestly didn’t much like carrying it, especially after the last battle. He closed his eyes, blocking out the memory from his head. He didn’t want to think about it. Instead, he picked up a large rock and prepared to throw it. He had to protect himself somehow. A masked man ran out from the building, carrying large bags with him. Leo steadied himself, aimed, and threw the rock.

“Ouch!” the man yelled. “What the hell?”

Leo inched up, “Commander Jones?”

“Who do you think I’d be?” he rubbed his head.

“Well, I heard gunshots, so….”

“I got them. We have to get out of here though. Our position has been compromised.” He tossed one of the bags down before the bush. “Take a bag. We’ll have to come back later for everything else.”

“Will we be able to do that if they know we’re here?”

“We’re certainly going to have to try. I have the important stuff, but there’s still some things inside we’ll need. Plus the car. I don’t think we should roll through town in that right now.”

“Are they in town?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know where they came from.”

“Okay.”

They both paused for a moment. Leo felt himself still shaking from the shots.

“So take one of the bags, and let’s go.”

Leo rose, grabbing the bag and another rock,just in case. Commander Jones shook his head and gestured for Leo to follow. Leo felt on edge and jumpy. The sadness that he’d woken up with now was replaced with adrenaline and fear.

II.

“Yes, we’re college students.” Commander Jones gave a warm smile to the hostel owner.

The woman shook her head, turning them away. They’d gone by three hostels so far with no luck. Commander Jones took an aggravated, deep breath.

“I don’t know what to do,” he said.

“Can’t the Navy find us a place?” Leo asked.

“I’m worried there’s been a leak at this stage.”

“Well, Cassius…”

“Not Cassius. He had his reasons to leave. There’s more to it than we think.”

“Do you think the locals know?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hey, DaVinci,” a female voice said behind them.

Commander Jones turned around and smiled wide at a tallish girl with dark hair that shined bluish purple in the light. Leo thought he’d seen her before on a few legs of the mission, but he couldn’t completely place her.

“Hey, Janie. How are you?” Jones greeted her. “Haven’t seen you around for a while. I thought you might have left.”

“I decided to stick around, but I can say the same to you,” she answered, punching his shoulder playfully. “I’m just fine. Been doing a lot of writing. You?”

“I’ve been better. We’re looking for a new place to stay, and it’s proving rather difficult. No one wants us foreigners.”

“Yeah, they’re on edge right now. Organized crime has been looking around for some soldiers here in secret, and the government is a little freaked out with all that. I can ask the people where I’m staying. We’re mostly left alone.”

“That would be great! Where are you staying?”

“It’s an artist commune kind of thing. It’s not especially nice, but it’s shelter. I’ll go talk to them and then meet you at that coffee shop you like.”

“Sounds great, Janie. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. We have to help each other out sometimes.” She smiled and walked in the other direction. Commander Jones watched her go.

“Is your name DaVinci?” Leo asked. “I thought it was Vince.”

“It’s DaVinci,” he replied. “My parents were artists and shouldn’t have had children.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“A few. They’re all over. Who knows where?”

“I see. And who is she?”

“Janie? She’s just a girl I’ve met a few times. She’s on a writing trip because she just graduated from college. She’s a nice girl.”

“Are you… involved with her?”

“No, no. We’re just casual friends,” he answered too quickly. “Come on, let’s get to that coffee shop. I could use some sustenance, couldn’t you?”

Leo nodded and followed him. He felt a little better about the situation, but not much. He thought of where Cassius could be and how Petey was doing in the hospital. He wondered if Jimmy could make it alone, if Nina could make it with Orion. All his friends were scattered around, and he too felt severely out of place.
I guess it’s like Jones’s siblings out there, lost somewhere.

Beyond worrying about his friends, he also saw the face of the man he killed in the penultimate fight imprinted on his eyelids. A stocky man with rounded green eyes when he saw the gun. He looked younger than Leo – just a kid in the wrong place, wrong time. Leo saw him coming and fired instead of issuing a warning. When Leo went to check on the boy, he looked peacefully asleep besides the oozing hole in his head.

It wasn’t that the death troubled him; it was that he never thought he could kill someone so quickly and so thoughtlessly. He never thought he had that in him. It must’ve been a family trait passed down from his father.

“Do you want anything?” Jones asked. “The muffins are good.”

“Whatever you usually get is fine with me.”

“I’ll pick something for you then.”

“All right, benevolent dictator.”

He chuckled only slightly and told Leo to sit somewhere away from the window. Leo did as told, choosing a booth where he could see the whole room and the back area. He didn’t want to take any chances. He didn’t know if his identity had been compromised, so he had to keep on top of surveillance. He kept his hand on his gun (which Jones had grabbed for him) just in case.

Jones returned with three drinks and a bag of pastries. He handed over a drink and a round, sticky Russian looking mess of deliciousness. “I asked them to make their favorite drink for you and pick their favorite pastry. It worked.”

“Thanks,” Leo took a drink.
Not great.
“Does anyone know who we are?”

“That’s a bit too existential for so early in the morning.” He took a drink. “You mean, will we be recognized?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve been here for a while, and I’m a bit of a local. I don’t think you’d be recognized – you haven’t done anything for them to notice you. Right?”

“Right.” He didn’t know what that meant.

“Hello again,” Janie approached them with a smile. “Did you get me a coffee?”

“And an apple tart,” he handed her the bag.

“You’re so sweet,” she grinned. “Really laying that bribery on thick.”

“Need a place to sleep, right?”

She laughed. A strange outcast feeling spread over Leo as he witnessed the interaction. Jones seemed more at ease, cooler, with this woman yet, his body language also spoke a certain tense nervousness. He wanted to be closer to her, but couldn’t be. Leo never had that problem. He thought of himself as a straight shooter – he always told a woman how he felt, for better or worse.

“Well, they said you could stay,” she grinned. “We can go now, if you want.”

“That’d be great,” Jones answered. “We’re certainly tired.”

“I didn’t introduce myself,” she turned to Leo. “I’m Janie.”

“Leo,” he replied. “Thanks for helping us.”

“You’re welcome. We needed a musician in the place anyway.” She winked at Jones. He smiled.

I feel uncomfortable
. Janie turned, guided them down out of the coffee shop, and proceeded down the road. She explained how things worked there – it was an abandoned apartment building bought by a painter. It needed work, so he invited the artists and craftsmen he knew to help. Many stayed, and many were replaced by other artists. And those artists replaced by other artists.

“It’s like a hostel where we all do the work,” she explained. “It would be nice if one of you knew how to cook. The chef who’d been staying there went to work one day and never came back.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Leo asked.

“It happens more than it should. The government is afraid of the artists, you know. But the owner just paints houses and keeps a low profile, so we’re left mostly alone.”

“You’re off the grid,” Jones said.

“Exactly.”

The walk took longer than Leo expected. He thought the place would still be in town, but it was in a more wild area. The large building bloomed out of the trees and weeds with a look of neglect and doom. Leo could understand why people avoided the place.

“It looks haunted,” Leo marveled (though he meant just to think it.)

“This is Russia,” she chuckled. “Everywhere is haunted.”

Jones laughed again, his eyes warmer than usual. She unlocked the main door and moved aside to let them in. The entryway also looked abandoned and barren – Leo couldn’t imagine someone living there. A rat skittered across the floor. She led them to a door that looked like a closet, but instead were well-manicured stairs. She locked the door behind her and led them up.

“This is kind of a Winchester Mystery House of sorts,” she said softly. “Doors leading to nowhere, stairs to the ceiling, etc. It’s an illusion to keep us safe.”

“Clever,” Jones said. “How long have you been here?”

“A while. I was staying at a crappy hotel when I met one of the other writers who live here. She got me in.”

“And no problems?”

“Some guys came by asking about one of the girls a while ago. It blew over though.”

“He went away?”

“He turned out to be her kid’s father. He was concerned for their well-being. He didn’t come by again though.”

“I see.”

She unlocked a door after a few flights of stairs and entered into a brightly lit corridor. It looked like what the foyer downstairs should’ve looked like – open, welcoming, clean. Leo couldn’t believe his eyes. A stout man with an impressive mustache approached them.

“Hello,” he said in a heavy Russian accent. “You’re the musicians Jane was talking about.”

Jones gave her a look, but gave a warm smile, “Yes, I’m Vince Jones, and this my comrade, Leo Rubin. Thank you for letting us stay.”

“Ah, we don’t use ‘comrade’ around here,” the man laughed. “He’s your friend?”

“Yes, my friend.”

“I am Anatoly. What do you play, Mr. Music?”

“I play most instruments, really. I have always been musical.”

“He plays a mean guitar,” Janie commented. “Really good.”

“And you?” Anatoly focused on Leo. “What do you play?”

“The piano,” Leo said. “Not as well as I thought though.”

The man laughed, “Is always the story! Well, let me introduce you to who is around.”

As Anatoly introduced them to the artists milling around, his Russian accent became more profound, and Leo couldn’t understand him. He tried but it sounded like stern gibberish. The artists shook the ‘musicians’ hands but, in true Russian style, didn’t make small talk. They worked on their own projects in different ‘art rooms,’ adorned with other artworks on the walls. In the ceramics room, cases, and bowls were scattered around the nooks and crannies of the space. The woman there (Ludmela, maybe?) told them not to touch anything.

“Very delicate,” Anatoly translated for her.

“He’s not kidding,” Janie whispered. “She’ll freak out.”

He continued guiding them around, leading them up another set of stairs to a hallway of doors.

“This is my room,” Janie pointed to a purple door. “It was purple before I got here.”

“Sure it was,” Jones joked.

“The writers mostly stay in their rooms,” Anatoly said. “A lot of them have left.”

“We’re vagabonds,” she shrugged. “I’m going into my room. I’m supposed to Skype with my mom. See you guys around.”

Anatoly guided them to one of the doors and knocked. “This is our resident poet. She keeps to herself.”

Pounding feet ran to the door, and a small boy answered the door. He greeted them in Russian. Anatoly leaned down and spoke to him, and a female voice answered him.

“This is Vasily,” Anatoly said. “He lives here with his mom, Minka. She doesn’t speak much English, but enough to get by. He speaks very little.”

A short-ish woman with hazel-green eyes, tan skin, and long, dark straight hair walked to the door. She looked between them, pushing her son away into the apartment.

“This is Vince and Leo,” Mischa introduced them. “They’re musicians and Jane’s friends.”

She nodded and said in an ever thicker accent than Anatoly, “Americans?”

He turned to them. Jones nodded then said something to her in Russian. She nodded and responded, but didn’t laugh or smile. Leo marveled at her beauty. He’s never seen such an exotic flower in such an ordinary environment. He imagined if she were taller, she could be a model – whatever she would be selling, he knew he would buy.

Her eyes focused on him. “You staring at me but saying nothing. I do not like this.”

“Sorry, I don’t speak Russian,” he answered.

“You are in Russia.”

Anatoly said something that made her smile and Jones laugh. Her smile made the whole hallway light up. Something about her completely entranced Leo.

“Maybe you can give me lessons?” he shrugged, trying to seem cool and collected.

“Maybe no,” she answered, her eyes glittering. “My son is, how you say… more patient than me.”

“He would work too. I could teach him English, if you like.”

Her head cocked slightly as she looked at him. “I talk to him.” With that, she nodded at all of them, then closed her door.

Anatoly shrugged, “She has… cactus personality. Prickly.”

“She seems fine,” Leo answered.

Anatoly raised an eyebrow and slightly smiled. “Let me take you to your room.”

He walked them a little further down the hall, knocked, waited, and then unlocked the door. It read “19” in big gold letters. He then handed them two keys.

“These will get you into the building and into your room. We change the locks on the apartments when people don’t come back. Sometimes it gets annoying, especially with the main door, but we don’t want to risk it.”

“Has anyone tried to get in?” Jones asked.

“One guy came by, but he was here for Minka. She dealt with it. We’re pretty secluded here.”

“I think Janie told us about that.”

“Janie knows what’s going on here more than anyone else. Here’s your room. You might want to get new linens.”

He left them alone in the room, going back about his business. Jones entered the apartment first. The place was larger than Leo imagined it would be. It looked like a real apartment with furniture and a piano in the corner. Jones cased the room, pulling out his gun and checking each room.