Sea Haven 02 - Spirit Bound

tracked with a weapon. The enemy was out there and watching him.
    He turned his head toward Judith, bending slightly down, smiling, listening to her even as he noted every possible cover between where they were and her car. Self-preservation was automatic to him, so ingrained in him, he would always know every license plate in his general vicinity, buildings and landscape, the natural flow of his surroundings. He was a chameleon, blending in, a snake shedding one skin and growing another easily—a shadow with no substance.
    They were approaching the homeless man. The man had one hand inside his jacket where he easily could be concealing a weapon. Stefan allowed his gaze to sweep the man, noting every detail. He had seen him around the village every day for the last two weeks as he’d scouted the place, and had spoken to him many times. The street people often were aware of any stranger in town and cultivating a good relationship often proved useful. Impersonating one of the homeless was an easy enough cover as well. Ivanov might certainly use such a cover, which was why Stefan had acquainted himself with every homeless person in the small village.
    He kept to the far side of the street, something he ordinarily would never have done. Each step was a single heartbeat. He was on high alert now. If he was wrong about Ivanov being in the tower, or on a rooftop, impersonating the homeless would get him close to his target. His knife was up his sleeve and he could make the throw before Ivanov could get off a shot. The homeless man smelled the same and looked the same, but a pro would be able to pull that off.
    “Just a moment, Thomas.” Judith touched his arm as they approached the small courtyard.
    Her touch was barely there, but he felt warmth penetrating at that gentle brush of her fingers, distracting his full concentration—and he couldn’t have that. He’d never experienced such a thing before. No matter what was going on around him, no matter who he was with, his life was all about the hunt and surviving.
    Stefan didn’t know whether to drag her into the next alley, slam her up against the wall and kiss her until she was every bit as senseless as he seemed to be, or to be done with it, grab her head in his hands and wrench hard enough to break her neck. Instinctively he dropped back a pace behind, just enough to put him into position. His stomach knotted. The vise was back, squeezing his heart until his chest ached. That thought brought him up short. Just how deep had he fallen into her spell to be so damned desperate? Every survival instinct screamed at him to get out while he still could.
    “This will only take a minute,” Judith continued, oblivious that her life hung by a mere thread.
    Inwardly he cursed his inability to overcome who and what he was—even with an innocent. And he was becoming convinced she was innocent. He had radar for the enemy, man or woman, and it had never once let him down. She wasn’t as she portrayed herself to the world, there was too much emotion bottled up in her, held back away from the world. He saw it there, smoldering deep below the surface. Damn it all, she had him twisted up inside, a conflicted mess that a few hours earlier he would never have believed could happen.
    She bent low to speak to the man on the ground. “Are you warm enough, Bill?”
    He nodded. “Blythe brought me socks and new boots.” He pointed to his feet sticking out from under his blanket. “Been nice lately.” His gaze shifted to Stefan, then darted away again. “Saw the devil today. He stood across the street, just there.” He indicated the railing separating the street from the bluffs. “Devil had death in his eyes.”
    Judith frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”
    “Like this one.” Bill indicated Stefan. “Death in his eyes.”
    Judith looked up at Stefan a little helplessly and shook her head as if apologizing for the accusation. That little observation told Stefan more than he’d learned in two weeks about the old man. He was most likely gifted, probably was the reason he’d been attracted to Sea Haven and at one time, he’d been a soldier of sorts, probably serving in the Vietnam War.
    “Bill, do you want me to take you to the clinic?”
    Stefan knew she thought the old man was ill, but Bill had no doubt seen Petr Ivanov with his dead eyes and recognized a sociopath. The exterminator could easily be identified as the devil carrying death with him. He didn’t want to