Unholy Promises by Roxy Harte Page A

it would take a man as Nikkos and when the agency chose him, it became necessary to separate you from him, because you would have been his conscience and we certainly couldn’t allow that.”
    “He won’t do it. To take over for Cobra, he would have to turn. He won’t do that.”
    “He already has. The brother you knew is no more, mon ami.”
    I close my eyes, swearing, trying to wrap my mind around what is and what isn’t possible. Opening my eyes, I look through Henri’s window and see the truth … really see it, for the first time in forever.
    Winter wraps the landscape in a blanket of white. It is Christmas morning. I am in Paris, once again in agent mode, the holidays holding no meaning, and somewhere, out there, my children are waking up to find gifts. Soon they will be sitting down to burnt turkey and really awesome gingerbread. I know because I know my ex-wife makes incredible gingerbread houses every year for the holidays. Christmas once meant family, festivity, and age-old traditions. As an agent, I lost all sense of holiday. With a wife and children, I pretended the holidays back into existence, but that was a temporary fantasy world of my making. It occurs to me that this year my children will most likely not even celebrate Christmas, let alone savor gingerbread. I left them in Africa with the agreement I would see them holidays and summers. That was over a year ago. I haven’t seen them since, despite attempts to contact them. In Africa, her father is the big fish and as corrupt as they come.
    For me, Christmas no longer has meaning, even though last year both Celia and Garrett tried to create a happy place for all of us to celebrate. It was nice, but it wasn’t home for the holidays, though they are more family to me than any other these days. Of late I am called more and more to duty, serving the United States, though I would not call the U.S. my home. It is a place of safety, though even my safety is an illusion. In my world of politics and true evil there is no room for the novelty of such nonsense as Christmas and the idea of family. I shake my head, wanting it back for real—home, family, holidays … safety. I want the real deal, Christmas and presents, goodwill toward men and peace on Earth … even if just for a day.
    I want to wrap myself in the cocoon of family. I think of Garrett and Celia waking together. We were supposed to share today. I had both looked forward to it and dreaded it. Is that why I’m here? Am I merely avoiding the holiday?
    No, Nikkos is the only living family I have. My brother, my twin, and I will not leave here without seeing him. I will not leave here without him. Period. “You can’t have my brother, not for that. I will not let you change him into the monster who could take King Cobra’s place.”
    “He is already the monster, Ari.” Henri puffs his pipe, inhaling enough to blow out a smoke ring and then another. “But, if you insist on this tragic course…”
    “Stay out of my way, Henri,” I promise with a seethed threat. “I’m here to save him.”
    Henri chuckles around the stem of his pipe, slapping me on the back. “Ari, Ari, Ari.
    You give me hope for an eventful New Year, thank you. I was beginning to get a bit bored.”
    Neither of us takes our eyes from the brilliant landscape, a wintry wonderland forming with the falling snow. “If it’s excitement you seek, Henri, I could use a helicopter.”
    “Of course, my friend, whatever you need, in exchange for a favor?”
    My blood runs as cold as the melt dripping from the icicles hanging from the eaves.
    Favors are never a good thing, not for the likes of Henri.
    “Make sure she doesn’t survive this one, Ari.”

Chapter 4
Eva
    Death lies on her like an untimely frost
    Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
    ~ William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
    December 24, 10:52:38 p.m.
    Ile St. Louis, Courtyard Apartment
    I arrive home to find a crowded apartment, obnoxiously happy Christmas carols