Away From Him (A Nina Veil FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 2)

By Kate Bold

When victims are found frozen inside sculpted blocks of ice, only FBI Agent Nina Veil can unravel the mind of a cold-hearted killer in a chilling game of cat and mouse…

“This is an excellent book… When you start reading, be sure you don’t have to wake up early!”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

AWAY FROM HIM is BOOK #2 in a new series by #1 bestselling mystery and suspense author Kate Bold, whose bestseller NOT NOW (a free download) has received over 600 five star ratings and reviews. The series begins with AWAY FROM HERE (book #1).

An enthralling crime thriller with a captivating and complex female protagonist, the Nina Veil series is full of relentless action, suspenseful moments, surprising plot twists, and shocking revelations. Prepare to be glued to the pages as the fast-paced narrative keeps you reading until the early hours of the morning. Fans of Kendra Elliot, Lisa Regan, and Mary Burton are sure to fall in love.

Future books in the series are also available.

“This book moved very fast and every page was exciting. Plenty of dialogue, you absolutely love the characters, and you were rooting for the good guy throughout the whole story… I look forward to reading the next in the series.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Bold
• Release date: Mar 28, 2024
• ISBN: 9781094396699

Book preview

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A W A Y

F R O M

H I M

(A Nina Veil Mystery—Book 2)

K a t e   B o l d

Kate Bold

Bestselling author Kate Bold is author of the ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eight books (and counting); the HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eleven books (and counting); the KAYLIE BROOKS PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting); the DYLAN FIRST FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting);  the LAUREN LAMB FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the KELSEY HAWK SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); the NORA PRICE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); and the NINA VEIL FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting).

THE KILLING GAME (an Alexa Chase Suspense Thriller—Book #1), LET ME GO (an Ashley Hope Suspense Thriller—Book #1), and NOT ME (a Camille Grace FBI Suspense Thriller—Book #1) are available as free downloads on Google Play!

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Kate loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.kateboldauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

Copyright © 2024 by Kate Bold. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

BOOKS BY KATE BOLD

NINA VEIL SUSPENSE THRILLER

AWAY FROM HERE (Book #1)

AWAY FROM HIM (Book #2)

AWAY FROM HOPE (Book #3)

AWAY FROM HOME (Book #4)

AWAY FROM HUMANITY (Book #5)

NORA PRICE SUSPENSE THRILLER

CAN’T RUN (Book #1)

CAN’T HIDE (Book #2)

CAN’T ESCAPE (Book #3)

CAN’T SLEEP (Book #4)

CAN’T FORGET (Book #5)

KELSEY HAWK SUSPENSE THRILLER

DEAD INSIDE (Book #1)

DEAD RECKONING (Book #2)

DEAD TO ME (Book #3)

DEAD SILENCE (Book #4)

DEAD TO DAWN (Book #5)

ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER

THE KILLING GAME (Book #1)

THE KILLING TIDE (Book #2)

THE KILLING HOUR (Book #3)

THE KILLING POINT (Book #4)

THE KILLING FOG (Book #5)

THE KILLING PLACE (Book #6)

ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER

LET ME GO (Book #1)

LET ME OUT (Book #2)

LET ME LIVE (Book #3)

LET ME BREATHE (Book #4)

LET ME FORGET (Book #5)

LET ME ESCAPE (Book #6)

CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

NOT ME (Book #1)

NOT NOW (Book #2)

NOT WELL (Book #3)

NOT HER (Book #4)

NOT NORMAL (Book #5)

NOT AGAIN (Book #6)

NOT SAFE (Book #7)

NOT TODAY (Book #8)

HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

NOWHERE SAFE (Book #1)

NOWHERE LEFT (Book #2)

NOWHERE TO RUN (Book #3)

NOWHERE LIKE THIS (Book #4)

NOWHERE GIRL (Book #5)

NOWHERE TO HIDE (Book #6)

NOWHERE CERTAIN (Book #7)

NOWHERE PURE (Book #8)

NOWHERE SOUND (Book #9)

NOWHERE SANE (Book #10)

NOWHERE TRUE (Book #11)

KAYLIE BROOKS PYSCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER

LAST BREATH (Book #1)

LAST CHANCE (Book #2)

LAST WISH (Book #3)

LAST SHOT (Book #4)

LAST MISTAKE (Book #5)

EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

IN HIS BLOOD (Book #1)

IN HIS SIGHTS (Book #2)

IN HIS REACH (Book #3)

IN HIS MIND (Book #4)

IN HIS WAY (Book #5)

IN HIS THOUGHTS (Book #6)

IN HIS DREAMS (Book #7)

DYLAN FIRST FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

OUT OF REACH (Book #1)

OUT OF TOUCH (Book #2)

OUT OF TIME (Book #3)

OUT OF BOUNDS (Book #4)

OUT OF LUCK (Book #5)

LAUREN LAMB FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

SOMETHING KNOCKING (Book #1)

SOMETHING CALLING (Book #2)

SOMETHING WRONG (Book 3)

SOMETHING DARK (Book #4)

SOMETHING TO HIDE (Book #5)

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

The cheers and applause still rang in her ears as Anastasia Melnikov finally returned to her dressing room after the third standing ovation from the full-house audience. That was it. The last curtain call, the last set of applause. The last performance of the winter run of Swan Lake, in the Seattle venue where the show had been extended for over a month, continuing well into spring, due to popular demand.

It had been a sold-out success. But now that the elation of dancing, the adrenaline rush of that final pose, was ebbing, Anastasia felt simply exhausted.

Her lean, muscular limbs were weighed down by tiredness. With the sweat dried on her body, she felt chilled, looking forward to changing out of her tutu and ballet shoes, and into jeans and trainers and a comfortable fleece top.

Now that the season was over, the realities of her life were setting in again, weighing down on her mind and her heart. She’d have a month’s break before the next show season began, but it wasn’t a break she was looking forward to. It was one that brought only the promise of loneliness.

Reaching up, she loosened the tight bun that had held her hair back. Sighing gratefully, she freed the hair from its tugging grip, letting the dark waves cascade over her shoulders.

She pushed open the door to her dressing room, where the bunches of flowers from the ballet director, and the venue organizer, and from her fellow dancers, all brightened the small space, and her heart.

But among the flowers, she saw something strange, set on the dressing table. Curiously, she stepped forward and reached for it, moving with a natural flowing grace.

It was a small figurine, a dancer on a pedestal that bore a strange similarity to her own appearance in the angle of the body and the style of the dress.

Except this figurine was made entirely from ice. Hard frozen ice, translucent, but beginning to melt already under the glare of the spotlights surrounding the mirror.

Well, how pretty, she said aloud.

And how ephemeral. There was no way she'd get it anywhere cold enough in time to save it. Home was an hour's drive away, and she was exhausted. Far too tired to go hunting for ice to pack this beautiful, anonymous gift inside.

Taking out her phone, she quickly snapped a few shots of it. At least her phone camera could immortalize the beauty, even if it was no more than a puddle on the dressing table in a couple of minutes’ time.

Her assistant would deal with all the flowers.

Time to get changed into some comfortable clothing at last.

But as she started unzipping her tutu, she found herself rethinking that strange ice sculpture.

Some of the media, after receiving cool treatment from her, had dubbed her ‘the ice princess’, and that unpleasant nickname had stuck for far longer than she’d wanted it to.

Was this a subtle insult? Was somebody reminding her of that name, which had been used in an unflattering way and which her agent had called her to discuss?

The presence of that ice figurine was becoming more and more worrying to her. It was melting so fast that she now realized somebody must have been in this room just a minute before she arrived. Security protocols in this area meant that the whole dressing room wing should have been locked down for the past hour.

And then, there was a knock on her door.

Quickly rezipping, she hurried over and opened it.

Got an extra bouquet for you, the overalled man muttered, from behind the enormous arrangement of flowers. It was so large, she couldn’t even see his face.

Thank you, she said, noting that he had a wheeled platform with a large box containing more flowers. This was definitely not protocol, but perhaps it was how this particular theater did things on the show’s final night.

She stepped aside to let him take the flowers to her dressing table.

But as he entered the room, he seemed to stumble clumsily, and the bouquet teetered, and then slipped out of his gloved hands and hit the floor in an explosion of shards, as the vase smashed and the gorgeous golden sunflowers were strewn across the floor.

Oh, dear! Oh, no! Her sympathy was unavoidably laced with annoyance, because all she’d wanted was some privacy to change and be gone. Now, selfish as it sounded, she’d have to wait here and be caught up in a lengthy cleaning operation.

Better clear up this mess, she said, suddenly exhausted and resentful of everything that had led up to this moment. It was the last straw, it was too much, and now, suddenly, all she wanted was to be out of here and alone.

She bent to pick up some of the flowers, seeing he was just standing there. Clearly frozen into place by the folly of what he’d done, his inaction was all the more annoying since he’d caused this messy disaster in the first place. The sooner all this breakage was sorted out, the sooner she could get changed and go..

As she bent, something hit her on the head, hard and unexpected cau,sing the world to instantly blur. She sagged down to her knees, a piece of the broken porcelain piercing her skin. It was painful, but she couldn't do anything about it, she couldn't move. Her head was spinning, and her limbs didn't seem to belong to her anymore.

Her confused mind fought to make sense of what had happened, as her surroundings darkened. Had this clumsy delivery man dropped something on her head?

As his arms wrapped around her, strong and coordinated, and she felt herself being dragged onto that wheeled cart, onto a tarp surrounded by flowers, she realized this was different.

She’d been targeted. She was being taken.

Fight, she urged herself. Scream. Do something, or this is going to be the end.

But it was too late. Another blow, and the world darkened further.

The last thing Anastasia knew was the tarp being dragged over her head.

CHAPTER ONE

Ready, aim, punch.

Wearing a blue gym vest and black leggings, Nina Veil drew her hand back, and lashed out as hard as she could, feeling a satisfying smack as her fist thudded into the heavy, swaying bag.

Keeping her feet moving, she danced around the punching bag, ready to strike again, with her left hand this time. Her breath was coming in gasps. This was exhausting. Mind and muscle were both being engaged in unison, but she couldn’t keep it up for much longer.

Even if ten minutes was all she could do at this point, boxing was still a damned good workout. It was strengthening her up, fast. And after two years in a coma in a hospital bed, she needed all the strengthening and suppleness she could get.

She might be only thirty-one years old, but she was still suffering the long-term consequences of that coma. Getting out of bed in the mornings, she often felt as if she was ninety-one. Luckily, things tended to improve as the day progressed.

After throwing one final punch, she knew she had to stop. Gulping in air hungrily, her shoulders sagging, she stepped away from the bag.

Enough, already. The workout had utterly spent her energy. Turning to stagger on cotton-wool legs to the gymnasium’s change room, she knew she’d pushed it as far as she could. Pure agony, she muttered to herself.

But even though the words were a token complaint, the truth was that she felt deeply grateful to be alive, to be conscious, and to have the ability to be tired. Painful exhaustion was a whole world better than being trapped in that hazy, shiny pool of her coma, sometimes able to hear everything going on around her, including voices, but unable to move a muscle.

Heading to the change room, her shoes squeaking over the shiny floor, her mind was on the case reading she was going to do that day, and the FBI protocols she was going to brush up on as part of her personal Back to Work project. And then, there was an upcoming afternoon meeting scheduled with her FBI bosses. Their decision would be pivotal in terms of her future work. She needed to bring her best self to that meeting and be totally ready for it.

Just before she headed into the gym’s locker room, she heard a voice call her name.

Hey, Nina? Nina Veil?

She turned in the direction of the voice.

The speaker was a woman of about her age, as dark as Nina was fair, with a curvaceous build that was spilling out of her black gym outfit, and a curious smile on her face.

Yes? Nina replied.

It’s you! Fancy meeting you here? What a coincidence. Walking closer, pushing back her shiny hair, the woman stared at her as if expecting a reaction to this announcement.

It must be, Nina agreed with a polite smile. Inwardly, she was scrambling as she tried to place this woman. Who was she, and why didn't she know her? Should she know her?

You don't recognize me? Now, the woman sounded dubious.

I’m sorry, no. Nina gave the rueful smile that seemed the best option on these occasions. But the woman looked perplexed.

Angela. Angela Smythe. I mean, we went through five years of high school together, and you haven’t changed at all since then. Still as slim as ever, and looking like you got a free head of platinum highlights from the hairdresser!

She laughed merrily, but Nina didn’t join in. She hoped that she wasn’t showing it, but inside she felt as if her stomach was in an elevator going down too fast.

There was no flicker of recognition in her mind at all. It was like speaking to a complete stranger. Since the woman clearly did know her well, and was looking increasingly puzzled, Nina decided she’d better enlighten her.

I still have some amnesia after an accident two years ago that left me in a coma, she said. I apologize for not knowing who you are, Angela.

Are you being serious? Angela screwed up her face in a confused way. Amnesia?

It was a work related incident, and I’m recovering from it, Nina hastened to explain, because it was happening. She was recovering. She had a lot of memories back. Just – not all of them.

Well, how strange. What work do you do? In a factory or something? the woman hazarded, her first guess clearly being that an incident involving heavy machinery must have somehow caused this.

The words she was using, her body language and her facial expressions, were cluing Nina