Page 85 of Dark Soul

“Dark,” Ash repeated, his voice firm but gentle. “We need to know what to do.”

“You heard Thorne yesterday. Getting those plans is your priority.” He held the gaze of every man he'd come to respect over the last weeks. They were all solid. Even Ash. It was starting to be difficult to believe the man could have committed the crime he’d been accused of committing. “I’ll go ahead.”

“Ahead?” Ash asked.

Dark nodded. He knew he wouldn't be leading the team after this. Hell, he wouldn't be part of the team at all. He’d be back in prison, which is probably where he belonged. And it was a trade he’d make gladly, if it meant he could get Alexia back, and give her a chance at a normal life. He wanted that so much it hurt—even if that life wouldn’t be with him. “You guys get the plans. I'm going after Alexia and Nikolai,” he said firmly.

Griffin surprised him by laughing, showing off his very white teeth.

“In your dreams, Dark,” the ex-CIA analyst said.

Dark straightened to his full height, which gave him a couple of inches on the other man. But suddenly he wasn’t facing one man. He was facing all four of them. Even Slate, pale and exhausted, was standing up.

Dark raised his hands, spread his palms. He couldn’t fight them all. He wouldn’t fight them all.

“This is getting old,” Slate said, his voice hoarse and gritty.

“We told you already, Dark. We’re with you all the way,” Rogue added.

“We can do our job and get them back,” Ash said, cracking his knuckles.

“I’m going to brew some more coffee, and we’re going to figure this out together,” Griffin said.

27

* * *

Alexia

She wasn’t ready.

One instant there was silence, then the door opened, and the man slipped into the room, quiet as a ghost. He’d taken the time to change into dark slacks and a cream-colored turtleneck, and with his blond curls and recently shaved jawline, he looked more like a member of a country club than a kidnapper.

There was no mistaking the stun gun held gently in his long fingers, however. Alexia shivered as she remembered how easily he’d put Ilya down with it.

Alexia jumped up and placed herself in front of Nikolai, who still hadn’t moved a muscle. That wasn’t normal…

Her heart seized, fear for the boy replacing her earlier panic.

“What did you do to him?” she snarled.

The man looked her up and down before replying. He was tall—not as tall as Dark, but taller than he’d seemed out on the field.

“Take a step back,” he said in his thick French accent. "I don’t want to have to stun you. You may be useful merchandise.”

The word made her shiver, but she held herself stiffly in place, knowing that was exactly what he wanted.

“Who are you?”

“You can call me Vincent, chérie.”

He looked like a Vincent.

He’s giving me his real name.

Alexia dragged in a sharp breath, but her lungs refused to inflate.

As the seconds went on, her eyes began to water. And the man—Vincent—stood there, watching her.