Retribution Page 2

  Declan waited until their server took his order and left before talking. “I can’t go into detail, but in the near future it looks like I’m going to be taking a job for Andre Makarov.” Possibly.

  Riley lifted his shoulders. “You’ve worked for him before.”

  “There’s someone he’s going to be traveling with soon and I need to get into their head.”

  “Their or her? Is that what this is about? A woman?” His brother’s mouth pulled into a thin line.

  Declan gritted his teeth. He’d never been able to hide much from Riley. “Yeah.”

  “How long are you going to let that bitch’s ghost haunt you, man? You’ve been denying who you are for too long.”

  Ignoring his brother, Declan took a sip of the coffee placed in front of him. The place might look like a dump on the outside but they had the best coffee and pie in the city.

  Riley just watched him intently, his dark eyes flashing with impatience. “So who is this woman?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “Why do you need to get into her dreams?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “You can’t say a whole hell of a lot,” Riley muttered. “Thought you left all that cloak and dagger shit behind.”

  Declan bit back a smile. “Sorry, man.”

  “Listen, I know it’s been a while since you’ve gone dream walking, but—”

  “Two years.” Which was why he’d called his brother.

  “Fine, it’s been two years. What are the chances that you get into another psychic’s head? And even if this woman is a psychic, what are the chances she’s as powerful as Madelyn?”

  “Yeah, I know.” But the truth was, he wasn’t sure how slim the chances were. In his previous line of work, like seemed to be attracted, or at least pulled, to like. Wasn’t sure what that said about him.

  “Can you decline the…job? Or whatever it is?”

  “I owe someone a favor. A big one.”

  Riley nodded once, as if that explained everything. Gallagher men took their promises seriously. “Then suck it up and do it.”

  “That was really fucking motivational,” Declan muttered.

  Riley leaned back as the waitress returned carrying their burgers, a grin tugging at his lips. “What can I say? I’m good. Been thinking about taking up motivational speaking.”

  Declan declined an offer of more condiments. When the server left, he flicked a glance up as the napkin holder slid away from the wall and landed in between their plates. He narrowed his gaze at his brother. “Why are you doing that in here?”

  Riley grinned in the obnoxious way only a younger brother can do. “Some of us actually practice our gifts. Don’t want to get rusty.”

  Declan didn’t respond, but Riley was right. His brother had honed his telekinetic powers years ago. Hell, all of his brothers were in control of their skills. Declan was the only one who hadn’t put his gift to use in a while.

  On a logical level he knew he needed to get over his shit and do this job. The thought of immersing himself back into that dream world made him break out in a cold sweat in a way looking down the barrel of a loaded weapon never had.

  * * *

  Declan laid against his pillow, staring at the ceiling. He told himself to stop being a pussy and do what needed to be done. Bringing the picture of Nika Brennan to eye level, he stared at it and fought back the jump of desire that stirred deep in his gut. He had a job to do and he couldn’t afford to screw this up. Especially not over a woman. A very pretty woman with electric green eyes. Putting the picture down, he closed his eyes and focused all his mental attention on her face and what he’d learned about her from her dossier.

  Dark curly hair, bright green eyes, creamy caramel skin. Delicate, slim build…

  Loud, Caribbean music pumped through speakers. Bright colors swirled everywhere, smiling, tan people. An Asian woman snorting cocaine, a black woman dancing…

  The scene dissipated so quickly he felt as if he was falling through space. Then he was standing at the edge of a four-poster king-sized bed. A hotel room. He took in his surroundings. A glance out the window and he saw the Chrysler Building. New York.

  It took a fraction of a moment to realize he was being watched. All his senses went hyper alert as his gaze locked with the woman sitting straight up in the middle of the bed. It was her. Nika Brennan.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  His blood ran cold. He was in her dreams, but she was actually aware of his presence. That had only happened once before and it hadn’t ended very well for him. Normally he saw dreams play out in random bits and pieces and he gleaned information from digging. He needed to tread carefully. “Who do you want me to be?” He kept his voice low, seductive.

  Her dark eyebrows raised in what looked like amusement. “I really must be losing my mind if I’m imagining sexy men in my dreams,” she murmured.

  “You think I’m sexy?” he asked.

  She let out an indelicate snort. “Even my fantasy man needs his ego stroked. Freaking men,” she murmured.

  “If you don’t want to stroke my ego maybe you can stroke something else.” He was playing with fire, but it was impossible to pull back in this woman’s presence. Everything about her was bright and vivid. Not just physically, but psychically, like she was surrounded by an otherworldly light. He’d never seen anything like it.

  She let out a sharp bark of laughter. The sound was throaty and unexpected and sexy as hell. It had his dick at full attention. “And he’s a smartass too.”

  “Why are you staying in a hotel room?” He had a lot of questions so he figured he’d start small. He wasn’t sure why or even how she was aware of his presence and he didn’t want to scare her in case she could kick him out of her head. Or worse.

  “You’re my fantasy man. You tell me.” She slid off the bed and walked toward him. His cock pulsed once, as if it had a mind of its own, when he realized she wore blue boy-short panties and a matching skimpy tank-top that showed just enough skin to drive him wild. As she came to stand in front of him, she reached out and placed her hand on his chest.

  When she did, he realized his shirt had disappeared. She must have projected that she wanted it gone. The feel of her hand against his chest was so real. His skin warmed and heated to a low burn under her touch. Her eyebrows rose in surprise when they made contact. Unless she was a consummate actress, she was just as surprised as him. Okay, that was a good thing.

  Feeling almost drunk with the need to touch her, he reached out and cupped her cheek. She let out a soft exhalation at the contact and he didn’t miss the way her nipples hardened underneath her top.

  Or the way her full lips slightly parted. When she moistened them with her tongue, he groaned. He hadn’t realized he made the noise until she smiled.

  “This is the best dream I’ve had in a long time,” she murmured and stepped closer to him. Slowly, sensually, she slid her hands up his chest and wound them around his neck. “What are you doing in my head, mystery man?” she asked, the question a whisper.

  He was pretty sure she wasn’t looking for an answer. Her eyelids dropped seductively as she zeroed in on his mouth. As if drugged, he started to lean forward, ready to capture her mouth with his. Just one taste. That’s all he wanted. No, one taste wouldn’t be enough. He was rational enough to know that. His heart raced wildly. He had to get out of her head before he did something stupid.

  Wake up, wake up, wake up.

  His eyes flew open with a start, his heart pounding against his chest in an erratic tattoo. But he was in his own bed. Alone. He pushed his comforter off, groaning as it dragged against his erection. It might have only been a dream, but his reaction to her was real enough. Too damn real.

  At least now he was prepared. Next time he got into her head, he wouldn’t be taken by surprise. She obviously thought she’d conjured him up so he planned to use that to his fullest advantage.

  Chapter 3

  March 9th

 
Nika opened the door of the plush hotel bathroom and stepped out to find her sister smoothing on cherry red lipstick in the mirror. Lipstick that screamed look at me. Which was exactly the point. “You look amazing,” she murmured.

  “Thanks.” Alena turned to look at her, a megawatt smile plastered on her face. Of course the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  And that depressed the hell out of Nika. It seemed the closer they got to their goal, the more detached they both were from it. As if they were denying what they had to do. Or maybe it was just Nika who wanted to deny it. After years of planning, everything was finally falling into place. So why didn’t Nika feel any sense of impending relief? Instead, all she felt was doom. Dark and depressing. And her damn dreams—or nightmares, she wasn’t sure—didn’t help either.

  “You sure you’re ready to do this, Alena? Sometimes I think…” As she sank onto the California king-sized bed, she clenched her jaw to keep from saying the words aloud. She’d only been saying them for the past year. It wouldn’t do any good to repeat herself. Her sister would never change her mind and she was tired of nagging.

  “You think what?” The lipstick tube dropped to the dresser with a clatter.

  She met her sister’s shuttered gaze in the mirror. “Maybe we should just walk away,” she whispered.

  Alena’s full mouth pulled into a thin line and for a split second, her dark brown eyes flared with rage. “You think that fucker deserves to live?”

  God, the rage was always there with Alena, a living breathing thing Nika swore she could see swirling around her sister. Nika swallowed and shook her head. “No. I don’t want to lose you too.” For so long it had just been the two of them. She couldn’t imagine life without her sister. Refused to.

  Expression softening, Alena strode across the suite to sit next to her. The bed barely moved as she took Nika’s hand. “You’re not going to lose me. I promise.”

  Alena hadn’t broken a promise to her since she was five. In her gut, Nika knew that no matter what she said, her sister wouldn’t back down from this. She could scream and threaten to leave, but even if she did make threats, Nika knew her sister would never believe her. Because Nika would never walk away from her. Hell, she couldn’t walk away from Alena.

  Sighing, Nika stood and placed her hands on her hips. To get through this she’d be faking it every step of the way. Something she’d learned to do from a young age. “Let’s get this over with. What am I wearing?”

  Her sister stood and drew back the mirrored closet door. She reached in and pulled out a strapless emerald green dress that would cover Nika’s ass by about two inches. “It matches your eyes.”

  Nika took the dress from her outstretched hand and suppressed a grin as she held out the shimmery scrap of material. “No one’s going to be looking at my eyes.”

  “Exactly. I guarantee Yasha’s son will notice us tonight.” Alena flashed her toothpaste commercial smile in that familiar way.

  She couldn’t help but notice that her sister didn’t call him by his first name. He was simply Yasha’s son. As if that somehow detached Alena. “And if he doesn’t?”

  “He will.” Her sister dismissed the question with a flick of her wrist and turned back to the closet where she rummaged for something to wear herself.

  A secret part of her hoped he wouldn’t notice Alena, but the realistic part of her brain knew he would. Nika was pretty. She could admit it. Men occasionally did double takes. But pretty girls were a dime a dozen. Especially for a man like Andre Makarov, Yasha’s son. He might look twice at her, then dismiss her just as quickly.

  Alena however, was beauty and grace personified. Thanks to their mixed heritage they’d both been blessed with smooth skin and high cheekbones, but everything about her sister was intensified. Their mother had been a beautiful, petite Russian woman and their father a tall, large British man with ebony skin. They’d both taken after their parents, but Alena had large, exotic eyes, naturally full lips that didn’t come from injections, and a killer body thanks to daily Pilates. It ensured that they’d at least get the man’s attention.

  Not to mention they had a secret weapon. Nika. Even if he could ignore her gorgeous sister, he’d likely take notice when they started to rake in hundreds of thousands of dollars at his casino. She just hoped things wouldn’t get that far.

  As Nika brushed on mascara she chuckled when she saw what her sister picked out. The wisp of red material that was supposed to be a dress was pure sex and sin. “You trying to give the man a heart attack before we…” The laughter died on her lips as she realized what she’d been about to say. Clearing her throat, she bunched her dark, out of control hair at the back of her neck. The curls were riotous as always. Normally she just pulled it into a ponytail. “Should I wear it up or down?”

  Thankfully Alena ignored her first comment. “Definitely down. Turn on the curling iron and flat iron and I’ll style it for you. Smooth out some of those wild curls and flip them at the ends.”

  By the time her sister was finished, Nika’s curls were softer and framed her face. Alena had flat ironed her own dark hair so that it was sleek and shiny as it fell down her back. Like an inky waterfall.

  “Remember, after tonight, all talk in this room,” her sister motioned with her hand, “is scripted.”

  “I know, I know. We need him to invite us—or you—to Miami on his next trip.” They’d only gone over it a hundred times, but her sister always felt the need to repeat things.

  If Andre did notice her sister tonight, then they had to assume that he’d be running their backgrounds and checking up on them. If he was anything like his father, they had to act on the assumption that he would bug their room. Which meant they could only make boring small talk unless they were absolutely sure they weren’t being watched.

  Alena’s phone started to buzz when they both grabbed their clutch purses.

  “It’s your agent,” Nika said without thinking. Since she hadn’t been born with her gifts some things she was still figuring out—on a daily basis—but this was something she always just sort of knew.

  “Showoff.” Alena grinned as she pulled out the phone, then silenced the ringer. “That never ceases to amaze me,” she said, putting it back inside her purse.

  Alena linked arms with her as they headed out the door. On the way to the elevators Nika could feel the pent up energy humming through her sister.

  The Gulf Coast city of Biloxi was smaller compared to Vegas, where Makarov’s other casinos were, but Nika liked the area better. It had less of a garish, bright-lights atmosphere. And they had the perfect cover for being here. They owned a home in New Orleans and this was only an hour and a half away. It was one of their stops on their way home after a recent bout of traveling. At least that was their cover story.

  “We’re so damn close to finishing this, I feel it,” Alena whispered.

  Nika just nodded, her thoughts split between the mystery man from her dreams and the whole situation she and Alena were in now. Damn that sexy man she’d imagined. And yes, she realized she was cursing a figment of her own mind. She seriously needed to get laid or something.

  She gave herself a hard mental shake. After this job, Nika hoped her sister would finally find some peace. They’d already tried to kill Yasha once. Hopefully this time they’d succeed.

  For all her premonitions and visions, Nika never saw a glimpse of her or Alena’s future. Not even a peek. And that was a scary thing indeed. They might have an advantage over the Makarov family, but the one thing she feared above all was that no matter how much planning they’d done, Yasha Makarov was ruthless in a way she and her sister never would be. No matter what Alena seemed to think, there were certain lines she knew her sister wouldn’t cross. It stood to reason that his son was just the same. Hell, one didn’t build an empire of casinos without making some enemies.

  As they strolled down the hallway, a door to one of the other luxury suites opened. Two flashily dressed men about their age stepped out. Out of the
corner of her eye, Nika watched one elbow the other.

  One of them let out a low whistle, but neither she nor Alena bothered to turn in their direction. The elevator dinged almost the second they arrived in front of it. Despite her sister’s promises, and despite the edge they had, a trickle of sweat rolled down Nika’s spine.

  “Smile,” her sister ordered, as they stepped into the mirrored elevator.

  “Hold the door,” one of the men called from the hallway.

  Nika smiled and waved as she pressed the button to close the door. Her sister snickered at the annoyed protests that were silenced as the doors whooshed shut.

  Seconds later, the doors opened on the first floor. Music, cigarette smoke, and loud voices immediately greeted them. A sharp contrast from the mellow elevator music.

  “Blackjack tables,” Nika said, already knowing what her sister was going to ask. They’d definitely get lucky there. She could feel it straight to her bones.

  Their heels clacked on the marble tile of the lobby as they made their way to the casino area. When they passed a big cluster of quarter slots, Nika’s eyes were drawn to a shabbily dressed man sitting in front of one of the machines.

  His despair was so acute, it surrounded him like a dark cloud. The back of her neck prickled as she watched him. Unexpected tears sprung to her eyes as a vision of him holding a pistol in his mouth flashed in front of her.

  “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Nika.” Her sister’s warning tone and the intensity of the grip on her arm didn’t stop her from halting by his chair.

  She leaned over the guy’s shoulder and tried to ignore the suffocating scent of body odor and stale cigarettes. He looked at her in surprise, his dull eyes flashing with momentary interest. Nika tapped the unoccupied machine next to him. “Play this three times, then go home to your wife. And for the love of God, stay away from the roulette tables.”

  “What?” He swiveled in his chair.