Chapter 11

“Cherriot Goodnight?”

“How did you know?”

“If he’s famous enough for Elizabeth to post about him, what other hockey player in Canada could it be? Besides, he plays for Vancouver. And I remember you mentioning more than once that he was handsome.”

The woman laughed. “Hoho, are you jealous? Don’t worry. You’re the only one for me. Still, if we run into him, we should at least ask for a selfie. I hope we see him at breakfast.”

“Wouldn’t someone that famous order room service?”

The couple walked past, still laughing. Their conversation did more than divert the watcher’s attention. It gave Yuri the information he needed. He had hoped the strangers who arrived in the middle of the night might be pursuing someone else, but now he was certain. They had come after learning that Cherriot was staying at the hotel.

How had the information leaked?

If someone had planted a tracker on Cherriot, they would have acquired a tail long before reaching the hotel, yet no one had followed them earlier. Cherriot’s location must therefore have been exposed only after their arrival.

Yuri had checked in under his own name, and Cherriot’s face had remained covered. The only time he had lowered his mask before entering the room was…

The hotel bar. The cocktail. The moment he had nearly accepted a drink from a stranger.

His face had been visible only briefly, but briefly was enough.

Ha.

Yuri had known something like this would happen the instant Cherriot proved incapable of waiting even a few minutes without flirting with an Omega. His face was far too distinctive for a hat alone to conceal. Of course the Omega must have recognized him.

Swallowing his irritation, Yuri stepped into the elevator the couple had vacated. He pressed the close button without haste. No one joined him, which meant his altered appearance had apparently fooled the man watching, at least for the moment.

The doors had barely shut when Yuri reached for the twelfth-floor button and remembered the key card. Frowning, he searched his pocket and found it still there. He tapped the panel, selected the floor, then slipped his right hand inside his coat and closed it around the knife hidden in his sleeve.

Click.

The blade rose inside the pocket.

As the numbers changed above the doors, Yuri could only hope Cherriot had not opened the room to an unfamiliar visitor. Most white men, especially Alphas, possessed an appalling lack of caution. An Alpha raised in privilege, one who had never been forced to live as the weak, rarely had any opportunity to learn vigilance.

The elevator doors slid open onto a dead-still hallway. Yuri scanned the corridor before stepping out, his gaze probing every shadow, but found no sign of anyone. Even so, unease settled cold and heavy in his gut.

He softened his footsteps and moved toward Cherriot’s room with practiced silence. Pressing an ear to the door, he listened. Nothing.

For one fleeting instant, Yuri pictured Cherriot Goodnight lying cold and breathless inside, his lungs stilled forever. He had known the man for only a few hours, and Cherriot had done little but grate on his nerves, yet the image sent an inexplicable chill into his fingertips.

Yuri had no desire to witness another life end. Death had followed him like a shadow since the day he was born, but he had never grown numb to it. The people around him had been trash, himself included, yet no amount of exposure could erase the metallic tang of blood or the stench of death that lingered long after a heart stopped beating.

A life happened only once, fragile and miraculous at its beginning no matter how wretched its owner later became. Yuri firmly believed that some people made themselves worthy of death through their actions, but watching the light vanish from a living soul still carried a misery too profound to explain. He refused to let that misery claim someone like Cherriot.

Shaking off the ominous vision, Yuri steeled himself and moved. He tapped the key card against the electronic lock, and it chirped softly. Holding the card and handle in his left hand, he eased the door open while keeping his body pressed to the wall, denying anyone inside a clear silhouette. He waited one heartbeat. When no bullet tore through the doorway, he slipped inside.

“Heather? Is that you?”

At the sound of Cherriot’s familiar voice, Yuri quietly clicked the door shut. At least the idiot had not opened it for an unknown visitor. Relieved, Yuri withdrew his hand from his coat pocket, allowing the blade concealed in his sleeve to settle back into its sheath.

“You said you were only going to talk for a minute, but you took forever. What could you possibly have had to discuss with a bad man like that while leaving me here alone?” Cherriot continued despite receiving no answer. “No, perhaps it was better this way. Something surprising happened while you were gone. You almost had to witness something ugly.”

Still muttering, Cherriot wandered out of the sitting area. Yuri moved toward him, wondering what exactly had happened. Their footsteps converged at the sitting-room entrance, and both men spoke at once.

“Why are you here?” Cherriot demanded.

“Why is he here?” Yuri shot back.

Their expressions darkened with immediate, mutual irritation. The instant Cherriot saw Yuri, his voice dropped into a frigid register. Yuri, meanwhile, looked past him and narrowed his eyes.

A man lay facedown on the sitting-room carpet. He did not move. He was either unconscious or dead.

“I asked first.” Cherriot strode up to Yuri, menace sharpening his tone. “Why are you here? Where’s Heather? And what are you wearing? Aren’t those Heather’s glasses?”

Yuri swept a quick, thorough gaze over him. The shower robe that had been neatly belted earlier now hung open, and angry friction marks streaked Cherriot’s exposed skin. There had clearly been a struggle.

“Did you kill him?”

“Do you think I’m someone like you?”

Without responding, Yuri brushed past him and crouched beside the fallen man. A search of the man’s waist yielded a stun gun rather than a pistol. Apparently, the Watchmen, or whatever they called themselves, still possessed enough sense not to commit an obvious murder inside a major hotel. Perhaps they had meant to abduct Cherriot instead of killing him there.

“Answer me. What are you doing here?”

Cherriot seized Yuri’s arm while he examined the body. Yuri had not been caught unaware, yet the grip still pulled him off balance, and even he felt a flicker of surprise. Cherriot had not become a professional hockey player by accident. His raw strength far exceeded that of an ordinary Alpha.

Yuri twisted around and found narrowed green eyes staring back at him, their pupils dark with agitation. Heat bled from Cherriot’s body through the layers of Yuri’s coat, accompanied by the erratic, flickering scent of his pheromones. Yuri did not know exactly what had happened, but the violence had clearly left him worked up.

“There’s another man in the lobby who looks like this one’s accomplice. It seemed dangerous, so I sent Heather away.” Yuri looked pointedly at the hand gripping his arm. “I didn’t come back because I wanted to. Heather asked me to.”

“I can handle myself, so get out. You can see that just by looking at him.”

Cherriot made no attempt to conceal his hostility. Yuri met it without expression.

“Would you still say that if he’d had a gun?”

Cherriot went still. Thought flickered through eyes still clouded by adrenaline.

“To begin with, opening the door for a stranger was a mistake,” Yuri continued.

The criticism was justified, but Cherriot apparently had no intention of admitting it. He bristled at once.

“It isn’t as though I could call the police. Have you forgotten what I’m trying to avoid?”

“If you hadn’t flirted with that Omega, none of this would have happened.”

“What?”

Cherriot blinked, his defiance giving way to bafflement. Yuri had meant only to force him to acknowledge his own carelessness, but Cherriot responded with characteristic nonsense.

“You’re still bothered by that?” A humorless laugh left him as he released Yuri’s arm and stepped back. “You kept pushing me away and insisting you hated it, but I suppose you enjoyed the flirting after all.”

“Your face is exactly my fucking type, but I don’t deal with criminals. If I’d known Samuel had ties to a gang, I wouldn’t have gotten involved with him either.”

The absurdity left Yuri momentarily speechless. Rather than waste another second unraveling Cherriot’s logic, he turned to what mattered.

“Get dressed and pack your things. You may be tracked, so we’ll withdraw cash while we’re moving and stop using your cards. You should replace your phone as well.”

“Wait. I already told you I’m not hiring you.”

“Do you want to keep wasting time here, or do you want to leave and find someone else you’d rather hire?”

Fortunately, Cherriot was not the worst kind of fool. He scowled but began repacking the suitcase.

While Cherriot worked, Yuri searched the unconscious man and found a burner phone. Nothing on it identified its owner. Unfortunately, the device was locked behind a passcode, and Yuri lacked the means to extract anything from it. He decided to hide it somewhere Alexei could retrieve on their way out.

When Yuri turned to hurry Cherriot along, the man was nowhere in sight, presumably changing in the bedroom. The packed suitcase and thirteen hundred dollars sat on the table.

He would have thrown this away.

Mild irritation prickled through Yuri at Cherriot’s careless disregard for money. He pocketed the cash. It might pay for fuel or lodging in an emergency.

Now they only had to leave.

Yuri carried the suitcase into the bedroom, and an expanse of bare white skin abruptly filled his vision. Firm calves rose into thick, corded thighs, then the smooth curve of Cherriot’s ass and a broad back so powerful it seemed almost oppressive. Not a scrap of fabric covered him.

Fuck.

Cherriot was completely naked. He was not even wearing underwear.

Caught off guard, Yuri retreated. The suitcase struck the wall with a dull thud. Cherriot turned at the sound, and Yuri saw the rest of what he had hoped to avoid.

Something outrageously large swung beneath Cherriot’s waist, substantial enough to cast a shadow between his thighs. Yuri’s gaze caught on it for one unavoidable instant before he cursed inwardly and snapped his head aside.

He had seen something he never should have witnessed. No amount of money could have persuaded Yuri to inspect another Alpha’s body voluntarily, yet somehow, of all people, Cherriot had inflicted precisely that sight upon him. The unwanted image left him speechless.