Hostile Ground (The Arsenal #7) - Cara Carnes Page 0,32

what he seems,” Zoey said in the com.

“An attendant,” Addy answered with an eye roll.

Gavriil threw his head back and laughed as he clapped Kristof on his back. “I envied you at first, but you have your hands full with this one. She misses nothing.”

Kristof drew Addy close and swept her hair away from her shoulder. “She is everything I desire and so much more.”

Awareness beaded along her skin as her pulse quickened. He glided his hand down her arm, then back up again, then down her back and around her waist.

“Maybe we should cut the chatter and get inside. I don’t want Kristof exposed out here for long,” she said.

“Of course. Come.” Gavriil turned and headed toward the house. He paused at the entry. “They’ll need medical treatment. I can arrange it if needed.”

“We’ll handle it,” Addy said.

“Iriana knows people who assist women and children out of these situations,” Kristof added. “They’re very good at what they do.”

“The beauty of an angel, the courage of a warrior, the brilliance of a scholar, and now the heart of a lioness.” Gavriil smiled and regarded Addy. “You intrigue me.”

Addy didn’t comment as she opened the door and entered. First approaches with anyone who’d recently experienced trauma of any kind were difficult, but trafficking victims had specific considerations. The fact these eight women had been kidnapped or possibly sold by their own family to one trafficker and then stolen by someone else only to be sold again to yet another left her unsure what the best approach would be.

The eight women huddled together on a large sectional sofa that filled a small living room. Though a television played softly in the corner, all gazes watched the room’s entry when Addy stepped in. She remained where she stood, letting them acclimate a moment to her presence.

“I’m Iriana. My friends and I are going to help you.”

Kristof moved to stand beside her. Addy expected the women to cower when he entered, yet their eyes widened as they looked at one another. All the women were wearing baggy sweatpants and oversized t-shirts. Fluffy socks with cartoon characters in bright colors covered their feet.

“My personal shopper brought over quite a few options,” Gavriil said from behind Addy. “She was more than a bit annoyed when they chose this over the designer dresses.”

“You’re Kristof?” a blonde at the end asked.

“I am.”

“Gavriil told us about you.”

Addy tightened, unsure exactly what that meant. She glanced over her shoulder at the man who’d been anything but the bastard flesh peddler she’d expected. He’d helped Kristof and now he’d hired a personal shopper to clothe the women he’d helped rescue from trafficking.

“Iriana and her friends have helped many women and children start new lives where they’re safe and can do whatever they want,” Kristof said as he took a couple steps forward. All the women watched his progression. Only a couple cowered deeper into the clutch of bodies around them.

“Assume they’re all Russian or know the language. The women in the interior of the grouping will be the most emotionally or physically vulnerable,” Zoey said. “The stronger ones typically shelter those they see as needing their protection. Focus your attention on them and the others will calm. Don’t apologize or offer a false understanding of what they’ve been through. Assure them they’re safe and that we’ll help them. Actions prove more than words.”

Addy moved until she was between them and Kristof. She sat on the coffee table near the women and leaned forward. “You’re safe. You’re going to meet a lot of strangers soon, but they’re all focused on keeping you safe and getting you into a new life. If anything or anyone makes you uncomfortable or scared, let them know. You have a voice and complete control over the situation. Don’t be afraid to ask questions or say whatever you’re thinking. If you’re troubled by something or want to know anything, then someone else likely does too.”

Was she totally screwing this up? Although she’d helped recover women and children, those situations were different. They were in the heat of an op where securing the area was the primary directive to keep whoever they were rescuing safe. This situation was radically different. The women had already been secured and exposed to Gavriil and his men and no telling who else since their nightmare had ended thanks to Kristof’s intervention.

“What will we have to do for this new life? We have no money to pay you.” The woman at the far left