Madness (Revenge Series Book 3)

by M. S. Brannon

  My face darkens and my eyes slant as the evil persona morphs over me, transforming me into the man I need to be. I’m now the killer, the hunter in search of his prey.

  “The auction ring will be down the hall; that is the only place it can be. I will go out first.” I remove my gloves and straighten my black suit. Luckily for me, every inch of me is in black; otherwise, you would see the bloodstains. “I will pass enough to be able to locate the buyer.” I hold up my hands and then run them through my hair, fixing it to look like I haven’t slept in a cargo hold of an airplane.

  “What should I do?” Cubby looks annoyed yet willing to help.

  “Get back to the Jeep and wait for me. We both can’t go in there. It’s too obvious, and I’m dressed more for the role. I will track the buyer then meet up with you.”

  Hopefully, we can do this quickly and quietly. I simply need to spot the buyer, lurk in the shadows, and have Cubby tail him to wherever he departs from. Then we will exit this godforsaken place much as we came in—stashed in a cargo hold. Only, this time, we will head to Russia, my home turf.

  “Here.” Cubby hands me a small metallic circle. I smile, knowing exactly what it is. “Slip this on him somewhere so we can track him. It’s synced up to my phone.” Cubby pulls it out of his pocket and waves it to me.

  “Always prepared, my friend,” I commend as I put the GPS tracking device in the same pocket as the needles. Then I step from the room.

  Cubby shakes my hand then pulls me in for a hug, appearing to get sentimental.

  I take a moment to collect myself, pulling a deep breath in and trapping it in my lungs until the burn is too much to bear, and then I allow the air to pass powerfully through my mouth.

  I turn toward the girl shivering in the seat and pull the blindfold from her eyes. She is ghostly white and terrified. Tears drip like a leaking faucet from her crystal blue eyes. She can’t be more than eighteen years old. The disgust floods back in.

  “What’s your name?” I ask her.

  “Tatiana,” she sputters through broken, sad lips.

  “Where are you from?” Cubby asks, sensing she is native to Russia.

  “Saint Petersburg.” She is shivering uncontrollably now.

  If she is sitting in this room, she is still waiting to be bought, and I can’t allow her to be here any more than I will. Josslyn is a fighter. She knows how to keep herself alive, but this girl, she is just starting life. I can’t have it start like this.

  I pull my knife from the inside of my pocket, and she starts to sob when the blade comes close to her skin. I lift my finger to my lips, motioning for her to be quiet. I wait for her to calm down, and then Cubby comes behind her as I cut the ties. His eyes are confused for a moment until he understands what I am doing—saving this girl before she is left to live a very short and miserable life.

  I get down on her level and look deeply into her eyes. “Tatiana, this man will help you get out of here. Just do what he says and listen to every direction if you want to stay alive.”

  She nods, and I pull an old, button-down shirt from a pile of clothes on the floor, handing it to the girl. She quickly secures it around her body then falls next to Cubby’s giant side.

  “See you out there, brother,” he says, grabbing the girl’s arm before stepping from the room.

  When the door closes, I feel the guilt rise. I should be doing the same for Josslyn. There’s a ninety-nine percent chance Josslyn will go to Stravinsky’s buyer. Yet my mind is thinking of that other one percent. If she’s sold and moved elsewhere, I will have to make a decision, and I’d like to think it would be following Stravinsky. However, knowing that she’s here, I’m not so sure I can make that choice. Regardless, if she’s sold to someone else, I will find her. It may not be tonight, but I will find her.

  I pull open the door and put myself in the middle of the walkway. Purposefully, I stride down the dark, damp corridor with my eyes trained in front, my body tight, and every sense in tune to my surroundings. My ears perk up when the excited voices get louder.

  When I turn the corner, the octagon shaped ring is directly in front of me, with men sitting in their specified sections, watching the woman getting showcased inside. I hang back, scanning the area for Stravinsky’s buyer.

  He will be easily spotted in his fine suit with tattoos no doubt on his hands. He will look a lot like I do now. However, I cannot spot him from this angle. I will have to go inside.

  I walk into the pits, and a man working for the auction looks me up and down. I don’t acknowledge his presence as I turn to the right and start making my way around the room. There is a gunman located outside the steel door, guarding the girl from escaping if that were possible. He looks me over, but soon goes back to his duty. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk around the ring, carefully looking for the buyer.

  I keep tight to the wall so it’s hard for the buyers to see me. I study the men, and when I look up at the ring, she is there. There’s a steel collar fastened around her neck, and she is being lead like a dog while the men pant like animals.

  My gut boils, rage bubbling. I want to rip all their throats out, and I want to go to her. She looks terrified. It’s nearly impossible to witness this. She is being tortured, and I was the one who put her there. The pain she is experiencing is all because of me, and prior to meeting Josslyn, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. However, now it’s almost more than I can bear.

  I’m making the final turn around the ring when I spot the buyer.

  I tuck back against the wall, keeping my eyes on him and the woman in front of me.

  Josslyn freezes. Something has piqued her interest, and it’s then I feel the connection of her eyes. She sees me.

  Her blue eyes are as wide as they can be. She is nearly nude, only dressed in a pair of black panties. Her legs are trembling. She’s truly frightened.

  She jerks the chain back hard, stunning the man on the other end, who falls to the ground.

  Josslyn, stop fighting them. They will kill you! Stop! I scream in my head, knowing if she continues to struggle, I will be left with a choice between Stravinsky or her. My dream of vengeance is teetering on a knife’s edge..

  The man recovers quickly. He pulls a whip from his waistband and slaps it across her skin. I can’t hear a single thing, but I can see she’s screaming out in agony. I feel the pain as her flesh tears apart, blood running down her back. It’s all I can do to control my own actions. If I move to save her, I will be revealed to the buyer, and I will most likely be injured or killed in the process. Still, the penetrating urge to save her is ripping me apart.

  Josslyn taps into that part of herself that only comes out when it’s down to her survival.

  The man falls to the ground when she kicks his frame out from underneath him. The next thing I know, the gun fires and then he’s dead.

  Fuck.

  The buyer is now on the phone. I lean forward to overhear his conversation. I have to keep my mind focused on him. This is why I made the choice to have Josslyn kidnapped. She was my ticket to finding Stravinsky. He’s speaking in Russian, and I make out his every word.

  “Yes, sir. I have her. We will be in Moscow in less than forty-eight hours.”

  Moscow. Stravinsky is in Moscow, just like Cubby suspected. Now I have to find out where in Moscow.

  Pulling the GPS tracking device from my pocket, I step forward as he stands. I move closer behind him, and her eyes connect with mine again. She is screaming, pleading for the help I cannot give her at this moment. My will breaks down with every agonizing second, but when the door opens, she breaks her gaze.

  I don’t look at her anymore. The mission has been clear from day one. Stravinsky is the mission.

  Waiting for a moment as the man turns around, I step forward, pretending to bump into him.

  “Excuse me,” I say in English, slipping the device into his suit jacket pocket.

  Before he can say a word to me, I duck my head out and step from the room.
I turn and look one more time as Josslyn is being rushed by the men,. Quickly, she is subdued.

  My conscience is shredded as I walk away from the auction, one step closer to finalizing my mission and one step closer to sentencing Josslyn to death.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Josslyn

  August 23, 2015 11:00 a.m.

  My eyelids are weighted, feeling like lead slits on top of my eye sockets. I’m sluggish and tired. My skin is cold and damp. The cold air is making me tremble, but my eyes won’t open. I want to awaken. I want to stand up and run from wherever I am at, but I can’t move. It’s incapacitating.

  The pain is burning in my back when muffled voices alert me, pulling me from my dream-like state. I focus as best as I can on making out the sounds, but it’s not clear enough for me to understand. Nothing is functioning like it should. My eyes are heavy. My lungs are burning. I feel like I’m trapped underwater.

  A door jerks open and cold, large hands grab my cheeks. The man is speaking, his voice deep and unfamiliar. I don’t understand any words, though, because my head is still swimming.

  He twists my head side to side, and then a sharp prick plummets into my arm. Blackness invades. Blackness consumes.

  .*.*.*.

  August 24, 2015 1:00 a.m.

  I see his eyes following me. The icy blue irises latch on to my every movement. I shake my head back and forth, trying to rid his eyes from this room, but they are still here. The orbs appear to be dancing … in front of me … behind me … below me.

  His wolfish eyes were once frightening, but now they are comforting, the only solace in my current state of paranoia. He will save me. He has to save me. I have to trust he will always be there. He said he would be. He would never leave me alone. He said it himself: he will always find me. No matter where I go, no matter who has me, Nikolai will always find me. I will ride that train of thought until it becomes my truth.

  With that notion, I feel the sluggishness take over once again, and I exhale. My frame melts into the floor below me as I relax, allowing me to fall back into the blackness, knowing I will be seeing those eyes again soon.

  .*.*.*.

  August 25, 2015 12:47 p.m.

  My body aches. The pain in my back jolts my senses, and I can finally gain some control of myself again. Whatever drugs I have been subjected to are starting wear off, causing every other feeling to flood in. The pain from the whip is the most recognizable.

  I roll to my side. I don’t want to open my eyes. I really have no idea what happened or where I will be. The last time I woke in a strange place, I was met by a terrifying group of people, people who do despicable things for the sake of money. Then my memory flashes back to his eyes.

  He was standing in the back of the room. Our eyes connected, but after the men entered the auction ring, I don’t know what happened.

  Tapping into my curious side, I muscle up the courage to open my eyes. My lids are still heavy, but not impossible to open like they were before. When I don’t really see much, I force them open some more and then more until they are fully open.

  Where am I? Am I with Nikolai? It doesn’t appear to look like a hotel, though. So, where have I been taken?

  I take a moment to regroup and look around. The entire room is red: walls, curtains, carpet, bed linens—everything. They are all a deep shade of maroon with accents of gold.

  I look down to find I am sitting on a large, king-sized canopy bed. It is the main focal point in the room, raised on a platform in this vast space. It’s very medieval looking with the dark walnut wood and intricate designs carved in each square poster. Attached to the top is a mirrored canopy encased in dark wood. The bed linens are soft and sensual, creating a very romantic feeling with the added patterns gold.

  I stand up, holding on to the poster to regain my balance. The red carpet is plush under my cold feet, providing them with warmth as my toes sink. I feel like I’m in a castle.

  I feel stable enough to move, so I let go of the bed, step down, and walk to the nearest window. When I pull the curtains back, they are covered with wood.

  I run my hands along the frame, messing with the sides, but they are boarded shut. You can’t see out, and no one can see in. This … This doesn’t seem right.

  I can feel the panic bubble up and adrenaline building. My feet move before my brain is fully processing what is happening. I grab the doorknob. Locked. I move to the other door in the room and open it. A bathroom as luxurious as the bedroom, but there is no exit point.

  He didn’t get to me. Nikolai wouldn’t keep me trapped in an unknown place. He didn’t save me. So the question is, who did?

  Fuck! Someone at the auction purchased me.

  The panic no longer bubbles; it is full-on as I start to tremble. I need to get the hell out of here.

  When I look down, I notice I’m still wearing the black panties from the auction, but I am covered in a robe.

  I run to the armoire, which is as beautiful and grandiose as the bed, and pull the doors open, finding nothing inside but lingerie. Nothing I can wear out on the street or good for kicking some ass to get out of this place.

  The next two drawers are empty. Fuck! This doesn’t help.

  I run to the closet. When I step inside, there is only one article of clothing inside. It’s beautiful, long, satin, and the color of everything else around me—red.

  The door clicks open, and I step cautiously from the closet. Standing in the middle of the room is a team of people: three large men dressed in fine suits, but strapped with guns, and a small woman close to my age, smiling from ear-to-ear.

  “Oh, honey,” she singsongs. “My name’s Magda, and you’ll feel much better once you’ve had a shower. Come.” The woman walks closer to me, but I retract, balling my fists at my sides and preparing to knock this bitch out if she touches me.

  The armed men step behind Magda, warning me, if I do anything, I’m a dead woman. Therefore, I keep my frame tense yet unclench my fists.

  She still holds the big smile on her face, and I swallow down the urge to punch it off.

  I have been through the ringer. These past couple of days have taken their toll on me, but I can feel my fight awaken inside of me. When I was in Grozny, I was still trying to process what the hell I was doing with Nikolai, but before my mind could even get used to anything, I was taken. I was terrified, and I still am, but now I’m not going to show it. I can’t let them see my weakness. I need to survive this long enough for me to get the hell out of here.

  Magda touches my hot, sweaty skin, and I recoil. She keeps a tight smile on her face, but in her mind, she probably wants to punch me, too.

  We walk to the bathroom as her entourage of men follows behind us. The bathroom door is left open as I’m directed to strip from my robe and panties then take a shower. And I admit, the warm water feels so nice against my skin. The hot steam in the shower billows around me in a damp fog as the smell of jasmine covers me.

  Then I am ushered from the shower to where Magda waits at the vanity. I cover my naked body in the same red robe and sit in front of the mirror. She starts raking a comb through my hair. Her touch is not gentle, not in the slightest, as she combs the knots out of my strands.

  I look at this woman who appears to be my age or slightly older. Her lips are covered in a deep shade of red, which is set off by her white-blonde hair. She is small; however, there is a certain amount of evil living inside her blue eyes. You wouldn’t think by briefly looking at her, but it’s there. The menacing side of her isn’t far away.

  Boldly, I ask, “Who are you?”

  “Who I am is no concern of yours, darling. I am merely here to prepare you.” She continues fiddling with my hair as she debates what she is going to do with it.

  “Prepare me? Prepare me for what?”

  “For him, the boss man. He purchased you and is excited to get to know you.”

  “Who? Who purchased me?” My gut stirs at the thought of the kind of men I saw at the auction
. They all had this crazed, evil look in their eyes, and I know whomever I was sold to won’t be good for me.

  “That’s for you to find out. Now, no more talking. I have work to do.”

  .*.*.*.

  August 25, 2015 9:03 p.m.

  Several hours go by before Magda is finally done poking and prodding me. She painted my face with smoky gray eyes and vibrant red lips. My hair was dried, straightened, and then curled in waves that free fall down my back. Then I was dressed in the satin red dress that was hanging in the closet. My plunging neckline leaves nothing to the imagination, and the long fabric drapes all the way to the floor. The dress is very beautiful and eerily similar to the one I wore when I killed Vlad. The only difference is that this dress has a long slit up the side, running to the top of my thigh and is red versus black.

  “It’s time, darling,” Magda says, breaking my thoughts as I stare at my transformed body.

  “Time for what?” I ask, knowing exactly what she is going to say.

  “It’s time to meet the boss. Your new master awaits. He saw something special in you, and now it’s time to serve him.”

  The thought disgusts me. I will die before I serve anyone. I’m not going to be a slave. I refuse. I will fight until there is no breath left in my body. I will never be someone’s dog again.

  I have no idea what happened to Nikolai. Maybe he tried to help me and they killed him. Maybe he stood by and watched as I was taken away. Wherever he is, it doesn’t matter now. I can’t rely on him to save me. I did that when I was at the auction, and it didn’t pay off. It’s up to me to stay alive and to get free from this hellhole. Whether I kill my way out or die in the process, I’m leaving.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Nikolai

  August 25, 2015 9:33 p.m.