Undercover Captor (Shadow Agents #5)(37)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“Right here, Anton.” Mercer’s strong voice rang out.

Then he was there. The devil himself was striding from behind the old machinery and walking so confidently toward Anton.

You think you’ve won.

It was time for the man to see exactly what he’d lost.

Anton hunched forward even more. The knife was cutting into his throat, but he didn’t care. He’d never minded a bit of blood.

He wasn’t the squeamish sort.

But then, neither was Bruce Mercer.

He clutched his cane then jerked it up in a flash. Before the knife could slash his jugular, he drove the handle of his cane into the man’s side. The man stumbled back, but Anton was already attacking a second time.

He whirled around. Pushed the handle of his cane to deploy his own blade—

And he drove that blade into the stomach of the fool who’d pulled a gun on him.

The gun discharged. The bullet drove into Anton’s chest.

Good thing he’d been wearing a bulletproof vest.

He laughed when the second agent fell. He was still laughing when he turned to face Mercer—

And the gun that Mercer had aimed right between Anton’s eyes.

“Rachel?”

Ah, yes, that would be the agent with the knife—now he seemed to be desperately trying to save his partner.

Pity. Anton had sliced her nice and deep. Saving her might prove difficult.

“It’s over, Anton,” Mercer said, voice flat and hard. “You’re done.”

Hardly. “Actually, I’m just getting started.” But he dropped his cane and raised his arms as if surrendering. “Can’t just kill me now, can you?” Mercer and his code of honor. He wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man in the head.

Mercer’s gaze glittered. “Yes, I can.”

Anton lost his smile. “That would be a pity. Because then you’d be killing three innocent women.”

Mercer hesitated.

Right. The code of honor. It would be the death of Mercer. Just not at that moment.

Others had to die first. What good was revenge if your victim didn’t suffer?

“Where is Agent Lancaster?” Anton glanced around the factory. He expected more agents to swarm him.

They didn’t. Others were there, but they were hanging back. No doubt, by Mercer’s order.

“Shouldn’t he be here for this little party?” Anton asked. Lancaster had lured him there. The agent must have stashed Mercer’s daughter first, then headed to this factory.

Clever, but not clever enough. Anton would get to her, soon.

Mercer reached into his pocket and tossed something at Anton’s feet.

“We need an ambulance!” The other agent. Still so frantic. He must really care for the woman—hadn’t he called her Rachel?—dying in his arms.

Mercer tapped the transmitter on his ear and barked a command for help.

Ah, maybe Lancaster would come in with that aid.

Anton’s gaze slid back to the object Mercer had tossed toward him. He squinted, then realized—

“Agent Lancaster isn’t here. He never was,” Mercer told him.

Anton laughed. “Well played.” Not well enough.

Footsteps rushed inside toward him. More agents came in the door and a few EMTs appeared with them.

He slanted a glance toward the injured agent. A pretty woman, but one currently bleeding out on the dirty floor. “Better get her to a hospital,” he advised, rather helpfully, he thought. “Or that will just be another death, on you, Mercer.”

Mercer’s fingers tightened on the gun. “You’re done, Anton. No more bombs. No more threats. No more deaths.”

Someone snapped handcuffs on his wrists. The metal bit into his skin.

Anton shook his head. “It’s a pity that Lancaster wasn’t here, but how about you deliver a message to him?”

Mercer marched toward him. When they were good and close, Mercer lowered his voice and said, “It was an accident. You know it was. Why the hell did you start on this path?”

Not an accident. A life lost. Payback. “Tell Lancaster that I know his price now.”

“Agent Lancaster doesn’t have a price.” Disgust thickened Mercer’s tone. “Get him out of here,” he ordered as he stepped back and motioned to his men. “Maximum security. We’re going to—”

“Three lives,” Anton said as hard hands grabbed on to him. “The first woman will die in three hours. The second in six, and the third in nine. One life, every three hours.”

Mercer jerked his hand in the air and the motion froze the agents who were trying to drag Anton toward the door. “What the hell are you talking about?” Mercer demanded.

Pleasure filled Anton. Oh, but he’d finally found a way to break his old friend. And he’d use the man’s own agent to do it. “Agent Lancaster’s price. I told him that I wanted your daughter. Instead of delivering her, he hid her from me.”

“I don’t have a daughter,” Mercer snapped.

“Of course, you do. Marguerite’s daughter. Beautiful Marguerite.” He could see her so clearly in his mind. “She died for you.”

“You killed her.” A muscle flexed in Mercer’s jaw. His eyes blazed. Ah, but the mask was falling away. The real man—the real monster—glared at Anton.

“You’re missing the point,” Anton said as the memories flared in his mind. Painful, dark memories. “And you’re costing Lancaster time that he doesn’t have. One woman, every three hours…”

“What women? Who are they?”

This was the fun part. The part that would set his plan into real motion. “Lancaster’s sisters. I have them. And my men will kill them, unless I get exactly what I want.”

Chapter Nine

“The music has stopped,” Tina said softly. She wasn’t even sure when it had stopped. She’d been too caught up in Drew.

In the pleasure that he gave to her.

They were in bed. Tangled together. His heart beat beneath her hand, and the steady rhythm made her feel safe.

But that was the way Drew always made her feel.

He says I’m going back to my safe life. But I am safe, right here. Right now. With him.

She pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Then a kiss to the scar that cut across his cheek. He’d gotten that scar on his first mission with the EOD. The first but not even close to the only battle wound he’d received.

He’d suffered. He’d survived.

His fingers brushed over her jaw. “Tell me this… Why the hell does a girl like you want someone like me?”