Blaire's World: Volume One

by Box Set

  “Algimas shared you with his associates and friends, did he not?” With my temper frayed, I growled out the words and watched as Beauty sat a little straighter. “Do you think those men will simply let you walk away?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why would they care?”

  “They care about their reputations. Most of these men have wives, families, money, careers, you threaten their pretentious existence.”

  Expecting her to continue firing questions my way, I sat ready and waiting, my body coiled tight with tension. I was grabbing at straws because there was no real reason why she couldn’t go, just my own perverse fascination.

  “Maybe I could go somewhere they wouldn’t find me,” she eventually murmured, more to herself than to me.

  “And where exactly would you go?”

  “Oymyakon, in Siberia. It’s remote and its freezing temperatures make it almost uninhabitable. Population fifty,” her eyes came back to mine and a small sign of sadness filled those doe-like orbs. “Or it was three years ago when I did an assignment for my geography class in school.”

  “You remember school?” I wondered out loud.

  Shrugging, her attention slipped past me and to the window.

  “I remember Oymyakon.”

  “And you want to live there, in Oymyakon?”

  “I want to live.”

  And there it was. The crux of all living creatures, that driving need to live. I’d bet everything I owned that it wasn’t always the case. There would have been a time when she longed to court death.

  Standing to my feet I slipped my hands into my pockets. She didn’t like me standing over her, I could tell from the way she fidgeted before me, her wary gaze locked on mine.

  “How often did you beg Algimas for death, how often did you pray for the heavens to take you?”

  Like a rubber band her spine snapped straight and color filled her cheeks.

  “You shouldn’t judge what you don’t understand.”

  I understood, I understood better than most, but she didn’t know that, nor would she ever. That was my personal hell, a time when death would have been a blessed gift. Instead I had murdered and bled my way out of it with the help of Charlie Decena. It would be a moment in history we would take to the grave in silence.

  “And I can guarantee you it wasn’t as often as you think. The few times I did pray, it was for a knife so I could slice his throat wide open and bath in his blood.”

  Murderous and defiant. My lips lifted in a smile that I felt all the way to my eyes, and her lovely arched brow creased with bewilderment. Damn, the bloody minx was adorable.

  Chuckling, I turned my back and wandered to the window she had been peering out moments ago. I had three men out there, watching and waiting in shifts, to notify me if anyone breeched the perimeter. They hadn’t asked any questions when I told them the timeline had been extended to a further forty-eight hours. I had no doubt they each had thoughts on the matter, but they wouldn’t voice them. I paid them damn good money not to.

  “You are a conundrum, Beauty,” I whispered. “A sweet conundrum,” I added as I peered back over my shoulder.

  “If I can’t go home, what will happen to me?”

  Turning to face her, I slipped my hands into my pockets. What would happen to her, indeed? There were many things I wanted to see happen to her, most of which involved me putting my mouth on her or my dick in her. What would she say if she knew I was right now imagining her clutching her ankles, her ass presented to the air as I fucked her from behind?

  Keep her.

  It was an insidious voice that had reared its manic head the moment I’d seen her in the Kensington mansion.

  I want her.

  Take her.

  Make her yours.

  She should have been damaged, and yet the woman who stood before me was proud, strong, and perhaps a little bit crazy. This world needed crazy if you were going to survive it. Perhaps she could be mine. How far would she let me push her? Anyone who was brave enough to belong to me would need to be prepared for the murder and mayhem that was my life.

  “What do you want to do to Algimas?”

  The question seemed to catch her off guard. With a quizzical look she shook her head.

  “What’s that got to do with what’s going to happen to me?”

  “More than you can possibly hope to understand. So tell me, what dark, bloodthirsty desires do you covet in that wounded mind of yours, hmm?”

  Standing, she huffed out a breath of air with frustration. It was charming. She looked a flustered mess, trying to unravel my intents.

  “What would I do to him? I’ve already told you what I’d do.” She raised the knife up high between us. “I could slice this deep into his stomach, peel back his skin and look behind his bony rib cage to see if he does have a heart.” Her eyes lit up. “I could rape him in the ass with it, like he did me, except I’d use the blade!” The excitement in her eyes died down, and her chin lowered. “Does that make you happy? My wicked thoughts? Does it make you hard?” she spat out. She had no fucking idea. “Stop playing your stupid games, and just tell me the truth!”

  Her temper had flared bright and bold, and I loved it. My dick, which had taken the longest time to relax back into a flaccid state, snapped back to attention.

  “The truth?” I growled. “The truth is you’re an obligation few will want to take on for anything other than nefarious purposes. The truth is there are people who would find your death convenient. The truth is, I want to keep you, but I don’t have much use for a broken fucking doll. My life is about pain, death, and torture. I’m a killer, and I’m paid damn good money to do it. I’m not sure you have what it takes to survive my world.”

  Her body quaked like a feather caught in a draft, her eyes wide with panic, those damn hands curled into fists.

  “Keep me?” The word was pushed out through tight lips.

  Smirking, I stared her down. “Does that scare you?”

  “Nothing scares me anymore.”

  Her whispered words were received as a challenge. They made me want to pick her apart, one delicious piece at a time, until I could figure her out, because there would be something buried deep inside her soul that absolutely terrified her. My gaze skimmed her delicate features, only anger and manic confusion present. Hmmm, what was she scared of? I needed to know, my fascination with mysteries urged me to put the pieces together. Perhaps she no longer feared Algimas now that he was strung up like a butcher’s prize. She didn’t appear to fear me, but maybe, just maybe, she feared something a little closer to home. Her monster.

  “Unleash the monster,” I growled.

  I was impatient to see the darkness inside of her. The festering rage beneath her skin needed an outlet, and I was fucking dying to see her release it. Perhaps others would suggest therapy, talking and medication. It was all a fucking joke, there was no talking a twisted mind out of the knots in which it had become tangled, and there was no numbing the pain. I knew exactly what she needed, and I’d keep pushing until that rage was released.

  Tilting her head to one side, her brow furrowed in confusion, she whispered “My monster? You want me to release Algis?”

  Sighing, I reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Beauty flinched and looked at me as if I were a bug she’d just squished under her shoe.

  “Love, he’s not the monster I’m talking about.”

  BEAUTY

  Hart confused and irritated me. He talked in riddles and seemed to enjoy my discomfort. He also had no concept of personal space, and his constant touching and close proximity frayed my nerves. He pissed me off, and I found my grip on the knife clenched in my sweaty palm tightening as I imagined stabbing him in his too handsome face. The blasé attitude he was trying to portray was a lie. Behind his penetrating gaze was a darkness, and while I knew I should be fearful of it, I wasn’t. I wanted to climb in there and see it for myself, uncover all the wicked, vile things that lurked inside his mind. Enthrall
ed was perhaps a better explanation for how he made me feel. I wanted to challenge him, and when he pushed me, I wanted to push back, harder. Right now, though, I just wanted a straight damn answer.

  “Love, he’s not the monster I’m talking about.” What monster did he mean? “Release your monster, Beauty.”

  I could feel the deep frown on my face as I struggled to understand what he meant. My free hand rubbed at the tightening in my chest and I blinked once, then twice as I watched the infuriating man before me. He was looking at me like I might be an insect about to explode. Those calculating eyes were searching for something. His scrutiny only incensed my internal rage and I clenched the knife a little harder. I wanted to lash out and hit something. Breathing rapidly, I shook my head trying to fight the overwhelming emotions storming inside me. My monster? Was he talking about me? Did he see my monster, the wickedness inside me fueled by a hate so intense it saturated my heart and soul? Looking at the knife I clutched as if it were my way to freedom I wondered why Hart wanted me to hurt Algis. Was it a test? Or a trick? Did it even matter? I wanted to hurt Algis, I wanted to hear his screams. Even the simple thought of them made me shudder with delight. To steal his power and deliver back the pain he’d inflicted on me was a gift. I didn’t really care about the repercussions.

  “And then you’ll tell me what will happen to me?” I murmured, somewhat uncaring and yet unable to completely silence my curiosity.

  Hart nodded, stiffly.

  “Pinky promise?”

  His eyes narrowed and brow creased in a most adorable way, those sinful lips frowning with confusion. Obviously, he’d never pinky promised. For me, it was nothing more than a fuzzy notion that floated about inside my head, but the emotion that went with it was one of conviction and certainty. A pinky promise, for someone reason, felt important. I held my finger out in front of my body and didn’t move. I wouldn’t. Not until I had a firm promise from him. If he couldn’t do it, I would try my luck at walking out the front door. Having nothing to my name and barely even a name itself meant I probably wouldn’t get far. But I’d still try.

  Reluctantly, Hart reached forward and linked his pinky around mine. “I promise,” he murmured.

  Happy he had partaken in this unbreakable contract, I pulled my hand away. Well, that was that, then. Hart would tell me what would happen to me, as soon as I unleashed my monster on Algis.

  “Is he awake?” I asked. There was no way I was allowing Algis to miss all the fun and pain.

  A spearing arrow of sunlight shot through the large window, hitting the blade of the knife I was still holding. How poetic that one of the first rays of morning light to touch the room happened to find the weapon in my hand. It looked so beautiful as I turned it over. It was just a kitchen knife, but completely stainless-steel from the handle to the blade, and I knew first hand that Algis kept his knives sharp enough to slice easily through flesh.

  “I would imagine he is awake and probably a little miffed as to why he’s hanging in his dungeon.”

  Hart’s voice was so close it startled me. My gaze rose to his light-colored eyes, the amber so striking in the early morning light they almost appeared gold. They were fringed with long, dark lashes and crinkles at the corners. Eyes that could be mistaken for charming, sexy even. I saw beyond the lie, though, I saw the astute intelligence that was constantly assessing and often dispassionate. Some might see an arrogant man, but I didn’t think it was arrogance, it was confidence. There was no doubt in my mind that this man was a killer, and he likely had no regret for the lives he had taken. If they were men like Algis, then I didn’t regret he’d killed them, either.

  Feeling once again a little overwhelmed by his proximity, rather than reveal my discomfort, I simply dismissed him by turning on my heel and stalked through the home. Having Hart at my back was disconcerting, but my need to find some modicum of power pushed me to be brave. Now that I’d made my choice, I was eager to get started. The thought of Algis’ blood, screams, and tears made me a little giddy with excitement, and a giggle burst free from my lips. This was going to be so much fun.

  I took the steps down into the long, tiled corridor, coming to a stop at the closed door to the dungeon. Fear that once coursed through my veins at the very thought of this room was replaced with a morbid enthusiasm. Hart was not far behind me, and although he gave the impression of a man following, I think he was silently pushing and urging me forward.

  My hand shook as I gripped the door knob and turned it, pressing the heavy, steel door open. For a moment, my breath caught with appreciation. Algis was still hanging in the middle of the room, but now he was awake, dark, sunken, evil-filled eyes scowled at me from beneath his stringy hair. Through the ball-gag, he mumbled something unintelligible.

  There was no hesitation as I stepped into the room. Memories tried to jostle for position in my mind: the floggings, the beatings, the intrusion of his unwanted body in mine. Blood, sweat, tears. A growl worked its way up my throat, and my fist clenched the handle of the knife a little tighter, while my other hand went to my head, tugging with frustration and pulling strands free from the loose braid. A large, masculine hand took my wrist, and my eyes, which had clamped shut, snapped open.

  “Let them in.” Hart released my wrist and tapped my temple with a finger. “Let them in and unleash your monster.”

  Let them in? He had no idea the damage it would do to my mind to release those horrid memories.

  “Oh, hello there,” Hart said in a cheerful voice, his attention now on Algis.

  More garbled noise came from behind the gag.

  “Let me get that for you.” Hart moved behind Algis and unclipped the straps on the leather, then wrenched the ball from his mouth with little finesse. Algis snarled with pain and worked his jaw.

  “What the fuck is going on? Who the fuck are you?”

  Hands sinking casually into his pockets, Hart stood before Algis, rocking on his feet and looking proud as punch.

  “Of course, excuse my bad manners. My name is Hart Cordell.” Algis’ face paled, and he wriggled in his chains, his toes just scraping the cold concrete beneath his feet.

  “Hart?” Did his voice hold a tremor?

  “I have a feeling you’ve heard of me, hmmm?” Hart purred. “And if you’ve heard of me, then you know my employer, which means you know why I’m here.”

  “I-I-I have no idea why you are here,” Algis stammered.

  Hart tsked Algis. “Lies are for the weak, Algimas Bakaitis.”

  “Whatever you’ve heard is wrong.”

  “Don’t bother trying to convince me. Decena will be your judge, jury, and most likely, executioner.”

  “D-D-D Decena?”

  “Algimas, you shouldn’t have fucked with Charlie’s family.” Hart’s tone was almost sympathetic.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Chuckling, he leaned forward, then in the silence of the dungeon lit with bright, fluorescent tubes, he whispered, “Gina.”

  I didn’t think it was possible, but Algis paled even further. Hart’s grin widened to something real and honest as he meandered away, glancing over the walls and countertops of horrors.

  “Let me down, and I’ll willingly go with you. We can get this shit sorted out, once and for all. Let me deal with Beauty, and then we’ll be on our way.” Although Algis seemed nervous, even fearful of Hart and this Charlie Decena, the way he spat out “beauty” was with hate and venom, the same hate and venom he always bestowed upon me.

  “Hmmm,” Hart murmured. “Therein lies the problem.”

  “What fucking problem?”

  “I must confess, Algimas, I enjoy a good fuck as much as the next man.” His fingers danced over the sex toys, knives, and chains presented like a macabre surgeon’s table. “The vast difference between me and you, Algimas, is I don’t need to rape and abuse women to get off.” Algis’ face reddened with anger, and for the first time in a long time, I smiled. “Beauty here,” Hart said with
a soft inflection in his tone that made my name sound like something else, something new, something treasured, “she is owed her time with you before Decena takes what’s left. Love, why don’t you get started?”

  Love? If my heart weren’t tethered behind thorns and shackles, it might have taken flight and soared.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Algis demanded, spluttering with indignation.

  My gaze raked over his body, not with lust, but repulsion. He wasn’t just ugly on the inside, he was ugly on the outside, too. Gangly limbs and sharp shoulders that stooped forward reminded me of a vulture, his hooked nose not unlike the bird’s beak. He was a scavenger, too, preying on the vulnerable and weak.

  Where would I start? What would I do? His ribs jutted out from his chest, his hip bones were hard and bony on his skinny frame, and his dick hung limply between his hairy legs. There, perhaps I should start there. My fingers tightened around the blade. I could cut it off and jam it down his throat. It would at least silence the rubbish falling from his obscene mouth right now. Perhaps I should ask Hart to put the ball gag back in place, but at the same time, I didn’t want to silence his screams of agony.

  “When I have trouble deciding,” came Hart’s voice right by my ear, “I find it sometimes easier to start small and work my way up to the big finale. What was the first thing he took from you?”

  My head hung to one side in thought, giving Hart room to rest his chin on my shoulder. The bristles from his unshaven jaw caught in my wayward strands of hair. My concentration was too deep to be concerned by how close he was once again standing. The first thing Algis took from me? Her . . . he took her from me. Then he took her virginity. Wrists bound, back pressed down on the stainless-steel table while Matis secured the cuffs trapping her wrists above her head. Unwilling legs pried open, her nakedness right there for Algis’ observation as she sobbed for him to please stop. Then he forced himself inside her, fucking her brutality until the blood made the dry invasion smoother but no less painful. A tear slipped over my lashes at the memory. Lucy, poor Lucy. My hand rose to my ear, tugging at a phantom pain there. Pain? Another memory pushed forward.