Chapter 10

She strode toward him and slipped into the elevator before he could refuse. After a moment’s hesitation, Yuri followed without a word. The instant the doors closed, Heather spoke.

“That was too much of a bombshell, Yuri. Even I can’t smooth things over after something like that.”

Heather pushed her glasses up her nose and whispered while staring straight up at him. Unlike the way she had frozen between Cherriot and Yuri earlier, she seemed surprisingly bold now.

“There’s no need for you to defend me, Heather. I never told you because we had no reason to cross paths again, but I’m sorry I deceived you.”

“No, that isn’t what I mean. Yuri, you don’t need to apologize that much. You told us the truth because you listened to what I said. But still!” Heather dug both hands into her hair, ruining the ponytail she had tied so neatly. “The Yuri I saw wasn’t someone who would hurt Cherriot…” Her voice drooped as she muttered, fingers still tangled in her hair.

Yuri’s mouth twisted faintly before he erased the expression. “You saw me fight the day we first met. Someone capable of subduing people that way does not have an ordinary background.”

His thoughts returned to the day he had met Heather two years earlier. At the time, Yuri had been helping his father, Vasily. The shop belonging to the benefactor who had helped Vasily settle in Vancouver was being threatened by thugs, and while Yuri and Alexei traced the people behind the intimidation, they found Heather in trouble.

She had been investigating the person who hired the men and, after recklessly tailing them, had placed herself in danger. Yuri and Alexei had intervened and saved her.

Even then, Heather had not been frightened by the sight of them beating people. She thanked them for helping her, then promptly asked whether they could assist her further. That was why Yuri had once wondered whether she had understood, at least vaguely, what they were.

“I… I thought you might be a veteran,” Heather admitted. “Or maybe someone training to become a police officer.”

An ordinary person would have difficulty distinguishing one kind of combat training from another. Her assumption was plausible.

Yuri gave a hollow laugh inwardly at an identity so impossibly far from his own.

“Um, Yuri… you aren’t wanted, are you?”

When he did not answer immediately, Heather pressed on with visible caution.

“If you are, then as a citizen, I wouldn’t have any choice but to report it. I’m asking while praying that you aren’t.”

“There’s no warrant for me. I negotiated with the police.”

He saw no reason to explain the details of his past, so Yuri left it there. Relief visibly brightened Heather’s face as soon as he confirmed he was not wanted.

“Then you must have had reasons too. Explain even a little of what happened, and I’ll try talking to Cherriot again.”

“The trust is already broken. It can’t be repaired, and I don’t want it repaired. There are plenty of skilled mercenaries in the world. No one has any reason to use me specifically.”

“That’s true. But there’s no guarantee those people won’t sell Cherriot’s information.”

“The same applies to me.”

Heather continued holding him there over a matter that no longer required discussion. By then, the elevator had reached the lobby. To keep either of them from wasting more time, Yuri spoke firmly.

“Heather, you need to sharpen your judgment. The fact that someone you believed was good turned out to be a criminal should be proof enough. Please go home. You came all this way to give Cherriot the information he needs, didn’t you?”

Yuri left her behind and stepped into the lobby. The fatigue and hunger he had forgotten came rushing back all at once. He wanted to rest. More than anything, he wanted to leave this place immediately.

But something stopped him.

As he crossed the lobby toward the exit, the reception desk entered his field of vision. A short blond man wearing a colorless jacket stood there speaking to a hotel employee, apparently having summoned the night staff. It should have been an ordinary scene, one Yuri could ignore, but habit compelled him to check the man’s waist and visible hand.

The stranger’s right hand remained inside his jacket pocket. He wore hard-soled boots, and at his waist…

The silhouette was unclear.

Yuri stopped, tilted his head, and slipped one hand into his coat as though searching for something. Turning briskly, he swept the lobby with his gaze and spotted a second man near the sofas. Brown-haired, dressed in a khaki jacket and black cap, he lounged against the backrest as though absorbed in his phone. His eyes, however, remained fixed on reception.

Perhaps sensing Yuri’s scrutiny, the man slowly lifted his head and looked at him.

Pretending not to notice, Yuri turned back toward the elevator. Heather had stepped out by then and was watching him.

“Chelsea, did I give you my car key?”

Heather’s eyes widened at the unfamiliar name. Before she could answer, Yuri closed the distance, blocked her from the lobby with his body, and bent close to whisper beside her ear.

“Follow my lead. I’ll explain once we’re outside.”

“What? Oh. Yes. Yes, of course.”

Fortunately, Heather caught on quickly. Though startled, she looked up at him as if silently asking what she should do. Yuri gave her a faint smile, then reached out and slipped the tie from her hair. Her brown hair tumbled loose in a disheveled curtain.

“Hrk.”

The abrupt touch made Heather blush and hunch her shoulders. Yuri regretted startling someone he was supposed to protect, but there was no time to explain.

“Excuse me.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her firmly against his side. Heather’s eyes flew wide. Without pausing, Yuri turned and began walking back across the lobby.

She followed stiffly. Their height difference was so great that Yuri nearly carried her, and because his long strides made no concession to her pace, Heather stumbled as she hurried to keep up.

As they passed the lobby sofa, Yuri deliberately threaded his fingers through her loosened hair. The man who had looked at him earlier watched them for several seconds, then apparently lost interest and lowered his eyes again.

Yuri did not stop until they were outside. Still holding Heather, whose entire body had gone rigid, he asked quietly, “Where did you park?”

Heather jolted as though she had forgotten how to move. She pointed toward the far left end of the hotel avenue.

“Ah, over there.”

“I’ll walk you.”

They continued in silence for several minutes. Only when they reached Heather’s car near the crosswalk did Yuri release her waist. A quick glance behind them confirmed that no one had followed.

“Um, Yuri?” Heather asked. “What was that just now?”

“There were suspicious men in the lobby. They definitely weren’t guests. If I’m right, there’s a strong chance they came looking for Cherriot. I’d prefer to believe they had another target in the hotel, but it was safer not to take the risk.”

“Oh…”

Heather stared up at him, blankly processing the explanation, then nodded. Yuri checked their surroundings again.

“Get in the car.”

She startled like a rabbit and opened the nearest door. Apparently too rattled to think, Heather climbed into the passenger seat, froze, then scrambled back out. She hurried around to the driver’s side, opened the door, and hesitated.

“But, um… why did you put your arm around my waist?”

“If we’d left separately, we would have been remembered. A couple leaving after spending the night attracts less attention. And because you know Cherriot, you could be dragged into this if anyone identifies you.”

He had guided her outside while almost completely shielding her, so the likelihood that the men had recognized Heather was low. She was Cherriot’s acquaintance, but she did not see him often enough to stand out. As long as she stopped involving herself from this point forward, she should remain safe.

Yuri considered the men’s possible identities. They were certainly not police. Nothing about them resembled undercover officers. They looked more like mercenaries.

That was precisely what made the situation strange.

Hadn’t they been told that a biker gang was after Cherriot?

Men from organizations like that usually hunted people openly. Most wore some identifying tattoo, and they rarely took such care to disappear into a crowd. Yet the man at reception had known exactly how to avoid notice. His clothes left no distinct impression, and Yuri could not tell at a glance whether he was armed.

“Ah, so that’s why.” Heather muttered to herself as she climbed hurriedly into the driver’s seat. “Right. Of course that was the reason. I misunderstood for nothing…”

The engine turned over. Yuri considered what to do next. Cherriot had made it clear he did not want Yuri’s protection, so Yuri had no obligation to volunteer it. He could simply leave.

But then Heather lowered the window.

“Yuri, you’re going to help Cherriot, right? There’s no way we can find someone else capable of helping him this late.”

Her plea supplied the answer. There was no guarantee the reception staff would refuse to disclose information, so at minimum, Yuri needed to get Cherriot out of the hotel.

Despite his reluctance, he changed course and bent toward the open window. Heather leaned across the passenger seat from behind the wheel, looking at him desperately.

“Is your eyesight very poor?” Yuri asked.

“What? My eyesight? No, but I have astigmatism, so I usually wear my glasses.”

“Can you drive without them?”

“It’s nighttime, so… somehow?”

Yuri nodded and reached toward her. Heather flinched as his hand approached, then forced herself still. He carefully removed her glasses.

“I’ll borrow these.”

“Huh?”

“If the same person who just left comes back inside, it will draw attention. Consider it a disguise.”

Heather’s eyes widened. Excitement brightened her face as though she were watching a film.

“Mr. Yuri, you look like the hero of an action movie right now!”

“Jokes later. Go home. Don’t take your usual route. Circle around, and if there’s anyone who can meet you on the way, call them.

“I’ll contact you after I get Cherriot out. In the meantime, find a security company that can take over his protection.”

Heather nodded rapidly at every instruction. She was about to pull away when a small sound escaped her.

“Ah.”

She caught Yuri before he could straighten from the window.

“Yuri, I almost forgot. This is what I came to tell you. The group chasing Cherriot calls itself Hell’s Watchmen. They’re a biker gang, and their main sources of profit are drug smuggling and trafficking. They’ve killed many people and have had roots throughout Vancouver for years. They also have connections in high places.

“The name sounds childish, but they’re extremely dangerous, so make sure Cherriot understands that. I’ll keep looking into them too.”

Heather shifted into gear, then added one last thing before leaving. “Ten years ago, they killed a famous hockey player. So… being famous apparently won’t make them hesitate.”

After delivering advice she would have been better off giving Cherriot herself, Heather drove away. Yuri answered inwardly that Cherriot would not listen to a word he said, then remained where he was until her car disappeared from sight.

At last, Yuri retraced his steps. Lengthening his stride, he moved quickly toward the car he had parked on a back avenue one block from the hotel. After checking the area, he opened the trunk.

The emergency coat he kept there lay folded neatly inside. Yuri stripped off his black jacket and changed into it, then stared at the trunk floor. Beneath the ordinary-looking mat, a small case lay concealed. He thought of the cartridges and handgun inside and considered whether the situation warranted taking them.

A gun in the city… not a good idea.

This was not America. In Canada, especially in a quiet city like Vancouver, gunfire would draw immediate attention. He could only hope Heather’s Watchmen, or whatever they called themselves, possessed enough restraint not to start shooting in the middle of downtown.

After a brief calculation, Yuri left the firearm where it was. The best outcome remained slipping Cherriot out of the hotel without attracting notice, which meant avoiding confrontation wherever possible. He needed to ensure that nothing happened which would require a gun.

He closed and locked the trunk, then carried the coat to the mouth of an alley he had noticed earlier, just beyond the hotel camera’s field of view. Once concealed, he put it on, reached inside, and removed the military knife hidden in its lining. He slid the weapon into his sleeve before donning Heather’s glasses. The lenses carried a slight prescription, which made them uncomfortable, but not enough to impair his movement.

Drawing a short, steady breath, Yuri pulled down the bangs he had previously swept back. Pheromone deodorizer would have helped, but he never carried any, so he would have to rely on the hotel itself. Enough people passed through the lobby, their scents mingling in the air, that distinguishing his should prove difficult.

The preparation took only moments. Yuri hurried back to recover the time he had lost. The instant the automatic doors opened, he scanned the lobby.

Fortunately, if the word applied, the man who had been seated near the sofas was still there.

Unfortunately, the man from reception had disappeared.

Foreboding slid coldly down Yuri’s spine. He avoided looking toward the chairs and headed directly for the elevator. The seated man’s attention shifted toward the late-night arrival. This time, his gaze lingered slightly longer.

Yuri kept every nerve sharpened in case the man followed. At exactly the right moment, a tourist couple emerged from the elevator and entered the lobby.

“But you know what, babe? Elizabeth just posted a story, and apparently a famous hockey player is staying here.”