Forever and a Day Read Online Free Page A

thousand. The suite’s kitchen was fully stocked. She ignored its selection of knives and plucked her own from where she’d carefully hidden it in the bottom of her suitcase, gazing at the lethal expanse of steel. She’d purchased the six-inch blade right after they’d gotten to Monaco, during one of the rare occasions Jaret had allowed her out of his sight. Tamara brought the blade to her lips, murmured a silent prayer, and tiptoed back into the bedroom.
    This time, she didn’t hesitate. She’d learned from her past attempts; if she took the time to do anything but strike, she’d lose her nerve. Jaret lay on his side, chin tipped, the vessels in his neck clearly outlined beneath his ruddy, Asian skin. The next few minutes would be hell. Would he attack her? It took time for people to die. Time for them to lose enough blood they were no longer a threat…
    She sprang, plunged the knife deep, and swung it through jugular and carotid both. Jaret was slow, sluggish. He must have given himself a whopping dose of heroin, or else it had been stronger than he’d expected. Blood sprayed from his severed carotid, geysering several feet into the air. Shocked by the grisly scene, she hurtled off his body. He made a gurgling, whooshing sound and bounded off the bed right for her, driving her to the carpeted floor. She hoped the thud wouldn’t bring security running.
    Her heart pounded. Sweat slicked her sides. She stabbed again and again with her knife. He closed his hands around her throat, cutting off her air. She writhed beneath him until her eyesight grayed around the edges. Frantic and furious, her cat took over, forcing her way through. When her vision cleared, she was on top of him, mountain cat fangs buried in his gushing neck.
    Knowledge flickered in the depths of his dark eyes. He opened his mouth, tried to talk, but blood burbled past his lips. She loosened her grip and jumped off his body. He wasn’t quite dead yet, but it would be over very soon. Tamara reached for her human form, barely allowing herself to breathe. She had to get out of there, put distance between herself and Jaret’s corpse. Bloody cat tracks peppered the beige carpet. She wasted precious moments working on them with hot water and a sponge before she gave it up for a lost cause.
    Tamara doused her blood-soaked body in the shower, dried off, and dressed as fast as she could. She stuffed her few things into her suitcase—along with her knife—grateful Jaret had never registered her as a hotel guest. If she were any judge of things, he’d probably used some name other than his own at the front desk. Also a good thing, if it were true. She was fairly certain Chen was his real name, though most of his men used aliases.
    Tamara dragged a dark coat over her jeans and black sweater, tied a scarf over her hair, and picked up the handle of her carry-on. Purse in her other hand, she crept to the door of the suite, opened it cautiously, and glanced out. Thank Christ! Empty.
    She walked down a back staircase and let herself out into the humid night. Tamara glanced around; relief that she was still alone weakened her knees. Maybe one of the goddesses really was watching over her. She plucked the knife from her suitcase’s outer zippered pocket, wiped it down carefully with her scarf, and dropped it into a hole in a thickly flowering hedge. So far everything had gone better than she could have hoped.
    Tamara padded silently away from the bulk of the hotel, rejoining the sidewalk about twenty yards past its ornate front doors. Disgust filled her when she understood she could have taken care of business weeks before and spared herself the degradation of her days—and nights—with her sister’s murderer.
    She waited until she was several blocks from the hotel before she hailed a cab and asked the driver to take her to the airport in Nice. Settling into the taxi’s back seat, triumph surged, hot and vital.
    I did it.
    Yes, but I’m not in the clear yet. I