* * *

  It amazed Svetlana that despite her many documented and confessed crimes, she was allowed so much freedom—and to have a cell phone. In Russia, she would be rotting in a prison by now. In Russia, there would be no hope of witness protection. She was too small of a fish to be treated well.

  As she watched the Americans, she smiled faintly at their childlike happiness. She was especially glad for Heather, who had put this party together. What a little fighter she had turned out to be. Most impressive. Her talents could be put to such good use.

  However…

  She walked a ways away and pulled out her phone. Dialed a number.

  The connection was made, but no one spoke. She knew who was on the other end, and that he was waiting for her to speak first.

  “Mr. Q, I have bad news. Chip two-six-two-b has been lost,” she said in Russian.

  There was a pause. “You’re certain.” Also in Russian.

  “Absolutely. It was destroyed on the ship.”

  A longer pause. Then: “Where there is one undetected copy made and smuggled out, there can be another. There is a new possibility. A woman named Anne Vanderberg could be approached. A colleague of Suresh’s.”

  “Da, so I’ve heard,” Svetlana said. “She seems malleable. But you would need a man for that, Mr. Q. And besides, I’m afraid that I’m retiring.”

  “Really.”

  “Da. But you know that you are safe with me. Always.” She could provide no useful information about him, and frankly would not want to. He had always been very good to her. He had treated her with the respect Vodanyov had never given her. The pig.

  “Indeed I do know that I am safe. And as my thanks, I will give you what you want most. Anatoly Vodanyov will not see another sunrise.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Thank you, Svetlana, for your years of service. When you hang up, we shall be done. I shall miss you.”

  “And I you, sir.” Although they had never met, and never would.

  She hung up, and rejoined the party.

  * * *

  When Tess came out of Cat and Vincent’s bathroom, her face was streaked with tears. JT, who had gone into the kitchen to get more Kahlúa, set down the chocolate-colored bottle. They were alone in the apartment, and when she spotted him, she wiped her face and dropped her hand to her side.

  “Hey,” she said. He had seen stiffer smiles—on corpses— and she sniffled, then turned her head.

  “Tess, what’s wrong?” He came over to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

  The floodgates opened. Tess began to cry, great hiccupping sobs that pushed out of her and made her shoulders heave. His heart thundered as he led her to the sofa and sat her down. This was a party, the happy ending, but something was very, very wrong.

  “Please tell me why you’re crying,” he said, taking her hands in his. “Whatever it is, we can handle it together.”

  “JT, it’s just, for weeks I’ve been worried about something… that something… that I was…”

  He wasn’t following, but he gave her his full attention. Was she sick? Dying?

  “And we were so bad at taking care of Princess Mochi. That made it worse. We couldn’t even take care of a chihuahua. And we were fighting all the time. So how could we… if I was… it was a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “But we found Mochi,” he said. “Everything’s okay.”

  She sobbed. “I know. I know, which is why I finally did it. Just now. I-I took a pregnancy test.”

  “What?” He was thunderstruck. He’d had no idea. “And?”

  “And I’m not.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’m not pregnant.”

  She kept crying, and to his amazement, JT felt like crying, too. Having a baby them would have been pretty wonderful. It would have been amazing.

  “It’s okay, Tess,” he said, patting her. “We’ll have another scare. Soon. I promise.”

  “Thanks.” She lifted her head and smiled weakly at him. “You always know how to cheer me up.”

  He took the compliment and brightened a little. “In the meantime, we could get a dog.”

  “Not happening.”

  He sighed. “Didn’t think so.”

  * * *

  Dr. Vincent Keller moved in a slow circle with his wife in his arms. JT and Tess were feeding each other chocolate-covered macadamia nuts and laughing. Heather was trying to teach Svetlana the hula. And he was falling more deeply in love with Catherine second by miraculous second.

  I was so alone. I was at sea. Until she came. Then she brought me back to life.

  We have gone through so much to be together, but she put it all on the line first to be with me. When I said no, she stood in the light. When I gave up, she said “forever.”

  Wildfire…

  Catherine has walked through fire for me. She’s stared death in the face. She has saved my life, and my heart.

  She is the other half of my soul.

  My destiny is to love her, and not just in this life. For all eternity. I know that. It will take that long to give her everything I have to give her, to love her as she deserves to be loved.

  Catherine raised her head from his chest. Her velvety eyes glistened. Her face was wreathed with a smile.

  “We’re always better together,” she murmured.

  And he replied, “Always.”

  From the moment we met, we knew our lives would never be the same.

  Vincent and Catherine danced on.

  They danced on.

  About the Author

  Nancy Holder is a multiple award-winning, New York Times bestselling author (the Wicked Series). Her two new young adult dark fantasy series are Crusade and Wolf Springs Chronicles. She has won five Bram Stoker Awards from the Horror Writers Association, as well as a Scribe Award for Best Novel (Saving Grace: Tough Love.) Nancy has sold over eighty novels and one hundred short stories, many of them based on such shows as Highlander, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, and others. She lives in San Diego with her daughter, Belle, two corgis, and three cats. You can visit Nancy online at www.nancyholder.com.

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  Nancy Holder, Beauty & the Beast: Vendetta

 


 

 
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