“Kira Hanson?” he said as they paused five feet away from him.

“She’s Dr. Hanson, yes.” Rand stressed her title. The boy could show some respect.

“You are supposed to be alone.”

“And you’re supposed to be in your seventies,” Rand said.

“Come with me,” the kid ordered. “I’ll take you to my boss. Alone.” He had a slight Russian accent.

So even though the Kuliks—assuming Luka Kulik was behind this—had maintained a home in Malta for decades, they imported their lackeys from Mother Russia. Was that by choice or by orders from the top?

“No,” Kira said. “Give us the address. We’ll drive there.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Fine. Have a nice day. We’ve got more sightseeing to do.” Rand kissed Kira’s temple. “Wanna explore more here or take the boat to Gozo like we talked about?”

“Oh, let’s do Gozo!” Her voice was excited and warm, completely unperturbed by the scowling kid.

“No! You must come with me. I have a car.”

“You really think we’re dumb enough to get in some car? Your boss is a few bricks shy of a load if he didn’t expect pushback.”

The kid stepped away and pulled out his phone. He moved to stand out of earshot as he paced and spoke into the phone. From the few words Rand could hear, he was speaking Russian.

As he paced, the open button-down shirt he wore over a T-shirt billowed to reveal a gun in a holster over his ribs.

Not even a little bit subtle.

“Shall we screw with him and head to the car while his back is to us?”

Kira snickered. “If I didn’t want the address so badly, I’d say yes.”

“Let’s start walking. Make him sweat.” Of course, given that it was ninety-one degrees Fahrenheit and they were deep inland, the kid was already sweating, as was Rand.

At the road, they waited for several cars and a bus to pass, then crossed and entered a treed garden with thick hedges that blocked all view of the road and fort.

The kid cursed and ran after them, entering the shaded oasis.

“Relax,” Rand said. “We just wanted to wait in the shade while you argue with your boss.”

They leaned against the back of a bench under a large tree that provided dappled shade. Kira rested her head on his chest. “On my next trip to Malta, it will be late fall or whenever the weather cools down. This heat is intense.”

“Want to go swimming in the Med tonight?” He knew it was unlikely they’d have time, but he liked the fantasy. Kira in a bathing suit had to be spectacular.

“Sure.”

The kid paced ten feet away, his movements and words agitated. Rand saw on his face the moment he was given the order. He knew exactly what was coming.

The kid tucked away his phone and stepped close. He was almost in front of them, trying to act casual as he reached for the gun. Rand was ready. He reached out and swiped the gun before the kid had a chance to turn it on him. He shoved him to the ground and pressed the barrel into the kid’s ribs, both their hands clutching the weapon, but the Russian’s finger was on the trigger and Rand’s hand held his in place. The slightest pressure and the kid would shoot himself in the lung.

“Why’d you have to go and do that? Now I get to keep your gun, but the sound of a shot is going to draw too much attention. Your boss won’t be pleased when I explain how you fucked up and made the police come. Plus an ambulance. How far is it to the nearest hospital? Think your lung will collapse before then?”

Chapter Thirty-Three

It took only a moment for the young Russian to give up the weapon and the address he was supposed to deliver Kira to. She kept an eye on the path as Rand got the information and took the man’s phone and wallet while he was at it.

After taking a photo of his ID, Rand dropped the wallet and said, “I suggest going back to Russia, ’cause I don’t think your boss is going to be too pleased with your performance today.”

He glared at Rand, his eyes burning with hate bred by humiliation.

Kira understood the burn. Rand hadn’t even pulled his gun. He’d acted as if he knew what was going to happen with psychic powers. But given Rand’s training and experience, and the likelihood the younger man lacked both, she figured Rand had read the Russian’s body language and there wasn’t anything paranormal about it.

Rand handed Kira their newly acquired gun. She slipped it into her crossbody purse, glad it was small enough that the zipper still closed. She wished she’d thought to pack a holster like Rand had and wondered what Amazon’s delivery time would be to Malta. She was a Prime member, after all.

Armed with the address of their destination, Rand used paracord to bind the man to the bench to keep him from chasing after them. It was lucky there was no one in the treed garden across from the main Mdina gate right then. Taking no chances, Rand was fast with his knot tying, and the Russian was bound in a flash.

They set off, leaving the blessed shade and crossed the street in front of the gate. They hopped on the first bus that passed a moment later. Rand tapped his credit card twice, and they were off on the crowded conveyance. Even if the young man tried to follow, there was no way he’d choose to cause a scene in front of so many witnesses. He was already a walking failure. That would seal the deal.

They hopped off the bus a mile away, then crossed the town of Rabat on foot to where Rand had parked the rental car hours before.

“I’m sure the kid will have found a way to call his bosses and warn them we’re coming by now.”

Rand had left the Russian’s phone on the bus, which was on its way to St. Paul’s Bay, if Kira had read the signs correctly. “Do we go straight to the address, or go back to the apartment?”

“Let’s see what Freya can tell us about the address.”

Freya—who Kira figured hadn’t slept in days—said the address was a restaurant near Popeye Village, which was the set for the 1980 movie Popeye, starring Robin Williams and Shelley Duvall.

“Kid played us,” Rand said.

“Sounds like it. Okay. Go to Valletta and check out the hotel? See if fake Andre is still there? It would be the ideal location if they want to send me another message.” The hotel had a major disadvantage over the apartment. It wouldn’t be safe. They couldn’t relax. No making love. No sleep. “Or we can return the apartment, where I can relax and finish this really good book I’m reading.”

Rand smiled. “As much as I love that idea, we need to play offense while we’ve got the ball. We have the address for Luka Kulik’s estate. I say we pop in and say howdy.”

She wanted to take a break from this chaos train but knew he was right. This was her quest, after all. It was time to make a move into enemy territory.

The gated estate was every bit as lavish as one would expect from a Russian oligarch who’d owned it since before oligarchs even existed and the Soviet Union was the big red threat in the east. Or in this case, northeast.

But as the car took the winding road up the hill to the gated estate, Kira was left breathless and speechless with every turn. Her face flushed and her stomach fluttered as each twist in the driveway triggered an aching sense of familiarity.

She knew the pale brownish-gray limestone wall that secured the property. Some part of her mind recognized the archway that capped the vertical iron-barred gate. Beyond the bars, the fountain was as eerily familiar as her mother’s sad smile.

She gripped Rand’s hand as they approached the small stone security booth. Before their car came to a complete stop, the iron bars swung wide and the guard inside the booth waved them through.