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Replica(27)

By:Shannon Mayer


Had Ivan gotten held up somewhere or had he gotten what he wanted? Lea had to be disappointed, even if she would likely act otherwise, but I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t happy. After my encounter with the man on the train, I didn’t trust Ivan.

The doors closed and the train was about to pull out of the station when a man burst through the turnstiles, racing for the train at superhuman speed. He pushed the doors open and slipped through them just as the train began to pull away.

For better or worse, it was the three of us. Whether I liked it or not.





CHAPTER 13





LEA



Ivan tumbled into the train, falling to his knees right at my feet. He lifted his head and his eyes met mine, but it was the gash down the side of his face and the smell of blood that captured my attention. I grabbed his arm and hauled him further into the train.

“What happened?”

“They were waiting for me at the cab.”

Which meant they knew we were working together. Fuck. I found a private car and shoved him in. “Sit. Stay.” I pointed for good measure.

Rachel was right behind me when I turned around. “How bad is it?”

“He’ll heal. We just need to make sure we aren’t noticed.”

“Then maybe you should get in there with him, Miss Leather and Hooded Cowl,” Rachel said with more than a touch of sarcasm. I grimaced.

“I have other clothes in the bag Ivan brought me. I’ll change.”

I ducked into the small space with Ivan. He was flat out on his back, or as flat out as he could be in the tiny bed space allotted to each stateroom. Thank God this wasn’t some subway train with standing room only.

His long legs hung off one end, his arms off the other. My leather bag was clutched in one hand.

“Where’s your bag?” I took my bag from him and opened it on the floor. A pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with a hoodie attached would do the trick. I peeled off my leathers and bundled them up, quickly yanking on the more mundane clothes. Ivan’s gaze was heavy on my skin, but I refused to acknowledge it.

“Didn’t have time to get mine.”

“Well, you need one. No one will think you’re flying to London for fun if you don’t even have a carry-on.”

I stood and shoved my bag under the bench bed. “Who attacked you?”

Rachel opened the door and stepped in, a snarl on her lips. “You idiot, you were tailed.”

Ivan sat up with a grimace. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Then who the fuck is asking for us by name while they search the train?” she whispered. “They have pictures too. These aren’t tourists looking for an autograph.”

“Could they have traced your phone while you made the reservations?” I asked her.

“You’re going to side with him?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m not siding with him.” Madre de Dios, it was like dealing with two squabbling children, both wanting my approval. “If Ivan led them to us, that’s a problem. If the phone led them to us, that’s a bigger problem. We need to know which it is, so I’m going to find out.”

I pushed past her and out into hall. I pulled my hair into a twist and tucked it down the back of my shirt, hiding the length. My one nod to vanity, I didn’t have the heart to cut it off even after all these years.

My steps took me into the main car of the train. Two men dressed in jeans and polo shirts were walking in my direction, talking to the passengers. Government, or someone else? One had a light windbreaker on that rustled as he walked. Here and there, I could see the outline of a gun through the thin material.

I was betting someone else based on the shape of the gun alone. It was far from government issue.

I leaned against the back wall and listened to their spiel.

“Sorry to bother you, we’re looking for our two sisters. Our mother is dying and they left for a trip today. We just want to find them so they can say goodbye.”

I couldn’t help the arch of my eyebrow as it rose to my hairline. The passengers seemed largely sympathetic. Many just shook their heads, but a few whispered words that were far too kind.

Mr. Windbreaker reached me first. “Miss, can you take a look at this picture? It’s my sister Rachel.”

I had to fight a sharp intake of breath as I took the picture from him. It had been taken outside Victor’s safe house a few hours ago.

“You know, I think I did see her. She was sitting this way.” I didn’t make eye contact with him, only turned with the picture in my hand. Mr. Windbreaker let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s great. We’ve been looking for her everywhere.”

“I’ll bet,” I said softly, glancing back at him. His buddy followed along, and I inadvertently caught his eye. He glanced at the picture in his hand and then back at me as he moved through the passage between the cars.