Savage Vendetta (Fire & Vice Book 4)

by Nikita Slater

  He took a handful of her black hair and pulled her head back in a brutal grip. He dropped his head so she could see his dark eyes. They finally showed some emotion, a terrible kind of anger mixed with intense lust. The blood on his mouth and chin gave his already terrifying visage an extra sinister twist.

  “You will treat me with respect, woman, or you will find out why I am the most feared man in this city.” He didn’t need to raise his voice to make his message clear. “I am in control now and I will tell you something that I have told no one before.”

  “What?” she snapped, her voice quavering slightly.

  “You test my control.”

  His words were simple, but chilling. They were enough to ensure her silence for the moment.

  “I have killed men. I have beaten and broken men. I have destroyed them and done so with extreme control. I never do anything without control.” His breathing altered, becoming more rapid. As he continued, his voice took on a savage edge. “But you, my fuckable little police woman, test my control. I want things I should not want with you. I want to lose my control with you. I want to keep you, own you, hurt you.”

  Jane’s breath caught in her throat. “You don’t scare me,” she lied. She shivered, a chill coursing across her bared breasts, causing goosebumps to break out and her nipples to harden.

  He laughed. Unpleasantly. Chillingly. “You should be afraid, woman. Because I have never denied myself something I have wanted.”

  She stilled completely and ever so slightly pulled her body away from any contact with his.

  “Da, I see you comprehend.”

  She nodded, daring a look up at him. “What are you going to do?”

  He stared down at her for a moment, his gaze sweeping her throat, breasts and belly with scorching heat, and then allowed the tiniest of frowns to mar his otherwise expressionless cold face. “I am going to deny myself, just this once – for both of our sakes. I will walk away from you, Jane McKinley. I will give you the chance to have your shining career without my interference.”

  “I repeat, what do you want from me?”

  “You need to disappear from my sight, Jane. You need to make yourself scarce.” He spoke next to her ear causing a shiver to trace down her spine. As if he couldn’t help himself, he followed that shiver with one long finger. “You will not seek me out again and you will drop the Dennis Yankovich line of questioning that involves me.”

  Jane had known why he was there from the start. He was threatening her in an elemental way to drop the case against him. She had experienced this before. As a small, attractive female policewoman she had endured her share of rape threats. None quite like this, but she was experienced enough to understand where he was going with this.

  The predictability infuriated her. She wanted to rage at him. Why couldn’t a man just want her for herself, not for what she represented? Not to fuck away a policewoman’s sense of power.

  “What if I don’t?” she spit out glaring up into his face.

  His actions were swift and ruthless.

  Jane barely managed a gasp when he pulled her hair back, forcing her to arch her neck and back, thrusting out her gorgeous, rounded breasts. He devoured her without further touch. She suddenly felt as small as he wanted her to feel and tried to shrink away from him. He wouldn’t allow it and dragged her closer, his eyes tracing her pale breasts down across her flat stomach to her strong thighs still hidden beneath the folds of her robe. She struggled, but he shook her viciously, causing her head to swim.

  “If you do not obey me, there will be consequences, officer McKinley. Consequences you will not enjoy, I promise,” he snapped. “You have declined my generous offer and I have kindly decided to back off, for now. If you continue down your current path, I will give myself free reign to indulge what I am now holding back for your sake. I am not a lover. I am a killer and a loner, a man better left alone. I enjoy hurting other people, Detective. If you pursue me, then I will end the chase my way. I will take you, put you in a cage and I will keep you for my exclusive and particular use. In short, I will break you.”

  His words were so rapid and so accented she had trouble following them. But she understood the gist. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Yes, Jane, I am most definitely threatening you,” he agreed. “But the question is, will you take heed, or will you continue on this reckless course you seem so intent on?”

  She remained silent. She believed him. But she wouldn’t stop. She was close to pinning Yankovich’s murder on him. And now she could add threatening a police officer to his charges.

  As if reading her mind, he gave her the cold smile that seemed to be his signature. “You are very easy to read, my pet,” he said, stroking the hair back from her temple. She jerked her head away, but he ignored the small defiance. “If you must have it your way then I will choose to look forward to the hunt with anticipation.”

  Releasing his grip, he reached down to cover her exposed curves. His fingers shook very slightly, betraying how close to the edge of his control he had reached. She wondered if perhaps, maybe a little, she did test his legendary icy calm. The image of herself forced into slavery to this man sent a shudder rippling through her small frame. Sitnikov smoothed a hand down the front of her robe ensuring it was in place and her modesty was intact.

  “Goodbye, my pet.” His deep, accented voice caressed her. “And forget I exist. It is perhaps better… for both of us.”

  She said nothing. The scariest man she had ever crossed paths with turned and left. She briefly considered shooting him in the back, but was too shaky to go after the gun. Legs wobbling, she sunk to the floor of her small apartment, wrapped her arms around her knees and allowed weakness to wash over her. She touched the spot behind her ear that his lips and nose had caressed, and her fingers came away wet with his blood.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jane touched the door of the coffee shop, hesitating with uncharacteristic uncertainty. She despised the feeling. Jane always knew what she was about. She charged through life head-first and made no apologies. She hated the idea that Sitnokov had her emotions so twisted up that she was now doubting herself. Since when did she hesitate while in pursuit of a potential collar?

  Yet, as she watched the small, dark-haired woman on the other side of the glass, she found herself trying to find her usual courage. Her next move could prove extremely deadly. Jane was technically off duty. One of her confidential informants had let her know that the girl she was looking for was on the move. Which lead her to the Knight’s Out coffee shop.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and strode in. She was met with a cacophony of noise. Some kind of board game being played by several customers seemed to be getting out of hand. A blond waitress was tearing them a new one, using language that was colourful to even a cop.

  Jane made a line for the woman sitting at a corner table by herself sipping hot chocolate and messing around on her smartphone.

  “Anastasia Sitnikov?”

  The girl stiffened in her seat, her short blue and black hair swaying. She turned slowly in her seat, one small brow arched over a bright blue eye. Even though most of her face was masked in heavy make-up, Jane could tell she was very lovely. Her delicate features bore only a passing resemblance to those of her brother. If Jane weren’t used to looking for nuances, she might have suspected she had the wrong person. It was the arrogant slant to Anastasia’s eyebrows, a replica of Sitnikov’s heavier brows, that led Jane to believe she did indeed have the right woman.

  Anastasia sighed and scowled.

  “I have nothing to say,” the girl announced, swivelling back around in her chair.

  Always persistent, Jane walked around the table and dropped into the vacant seat, levelling a stern look at the younger woman. “But you are Anastasia Sitnikov, correct?”

  Anastasia rolled her eyes. “Christ, stop calling me that in public. Just Anya is fine.”

  Jane jerked her head in a nod. “Okay then, Anya. I’m
Detective Jane McKinley,” she said, holding out her hand.

  Jane held her breath as Anya simply stared at the proffered hand for a moment before barely giving the tips of Jane’s fingers a squeeze before dropping her own hand back to the table. It was abundantly clear that Anya didn’t want to talk to Jane. Jane’s understanding was that Anya was not at all involved in her brother’s criminal activities. The girl appeared to be more intelligent than her rebel co-ed appearance made it seem.

  “I’m here to talk to you about your brother.”

  Anya snorted, “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

  “Sarcasm isn’t necessary, Anya. I just have a few questions.”

  Anya laughed out loud. “Of course you do, and yes it is. Without sarcasm I would probably be peeing myself right now.”

  Was Anya afraid Sitnikov might hurt her, or worse, if she was caught talking to a cop? Her detective’s heart sped up at the thought of a possible lead. Maybe Anya would be easier to break down than she thought. Jane tried to look gentle. It was a hard emotion for her to produce considering she had zero maternal instincts to get in touch with.

  “You don’t have to worry Anya,” she said soothingly. “Anything you say to me will be kept completely confidential. No one is going to hurt you.”

  “Oh, I’m not worried for myself, Janie,” Anya smiled. Jane flinched at the nickname. Her parents had called her Janie. She hated it. “I’m worried about what happens to you when my big brother discovers you searched me out and questioned me. He doesn’t take too kindly to any kind of threat to his sister. And while you don’t exactly pose a threat, he’s the shoot first and ask questions later kind of guy.”

  Jane sat up so straight her wooden chair scraped. Her slim hopes that Anya might cooperate flew out the window. She opened her mouth to speak, but Anya cut her off.

  “And no, I’m not threatening you, nor is my brother by extension. I’m giving you advice from one woman to another.” Anya took a long sip of her hot chocolate and said nonchalantly, “He secretly digs the professional ball-busting type. So if I were you, I would fly under the radar where Vlad is concerned. Way under if you know what I mean. Like, drop whatever it is you think you got on him because you won’t make anything stick. Oh, and never, ever mention this little incident to anyone. Not even your cop buddies, because you just know some of those little piggies have got to be in his pocket. This town likes to talk and it could easily get back to him. He would love to get his hands on someone like you. And trust me, you don’t want that.”

  Jane felt a pang of nervousness. Anya was unwittingly verbalizing her fears. Sitnikov would love to get his hands on Jane. She brought her facial expression swiftly under control, but Anya’s sharp eyes had picked up on her momentary panic.

  “You’ve already talked to him, haven’t you?” Anya asked shrewdly.

  Jane nodded, dropping her eyes from the younger girl’s. She didn’t need the astute woman to pick up more than she already had. A blush heated Jane’s cheeks as she remembered the way Sitnikov had held her near naked body and threatened her in an elemental way.

  Anya stared at her, blazing blue eyes taking in every inch of Jane as though contemplating her in a new light.

  “Nice chatting with you,” Anya said brightly, grabbing her camo purse and standing up. “Take my advice and either lay off my brother or move to another city.” Anya paused, considering. “Maybe another country, just to be safe! Do svidaniya Jane.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jane grinned down at her phone, reading through a text promising her some badly needed information. It had been three long weeks since Sitnikov’s visit to her apartment and she hadn’t been able to find any more leads in her murder case. She had searched tirelessly through boxes of evidence to come up empty every time. She had returned to Yankovich’s apartment and gone over it again with a fine tooth comb, which yielded nothing more than the original search. Sitnikov was better than even she had believed, and she was looking at him harder than anyone else in the force. Like any other crime that seemed to link back to the Russian, all the evidence slid off of him like oil on leather.

  She’d been ready to break with protocol and drag the man back in for another interview when one of her confidential informants had finally come through for her. Jane dropped her phone in her purse and forced back a shout of triumph. Her abysmal luck on the Sitnikov case was about to change. She wanted the dirty mobster behind bars so bad she could taste it. Maybe, just maybe, she would finally get to see him there.

  Jane stood to gather her purse and coat. Gruber raised an eyebrow in her direction, but was busy with a phone conversation so couldn’t ask his partner what she was up to. She mimed going for a meeting and when he asked if she wanted backup she shook her head and traced the letters C I in the air with her finger – confidential informant. Most CIs were jumpy around cops and nervous enough divulging information to one cop, let alone two. Jane was smaller and less intimidating than most cops, so she usually took the CIs when one of them needed information.

  She parked her compact vehicle outside of the diner she usually met with “Desiree” and waited until she saw the woman go inside. Desiree wore a minuscule, tight purple skirt tonight with a short jean jacket over a brief top that showed off a swath of her toned ebony stomach. Her four inch silver heels put her at more than a foot taller than Jane. The woman was incredibly built and did good business on the streets. She’d been picked up on possession and, knowing what happened to women like her in a men’s prison, had agreed to work with the police rather than risk death in a federal penitentiary.

  Jane hated the way police could trap confidential informants by threatening them with jail and then flipping them. But she wasn’t judgmental enough to not use them when needed. She tried to develop a special relationship with the few she worked with so they wouldn’t resent it as much and she made sure the monetary compensation for their information was worth it. Some of them were scum to deal with, but not this one.

  She entered the shop behind Desiree and signalled the woman behind the counter for a coffee, then sat down opposite her informant. Desiree was the one Jane liked best, having built a relationship on mutual honesty and a dislike of things that were unfair. There was no pretence between the two and they had developed a genuine friendship over the past few years.

  “How’re things Des?” she asked, stirring a spoonful of sugar and a creamer into her coffee.

  The other woman shrugged, her sparkling make-up dazzling in the harsh lighting of the diner. “It’s as good as ever, coplette. I eat. I have a place to sleep. Can’t ask for much more than that.”

  Jane laughed at the pet name Desiree liked to call her, like her stature made her less than a real cop. Desiree knew better, as the petite woman sitting opposite her had been her arresting officer before becoming a detective on the homicide squad.

  “No one being rough out there?” Jane asked seriously. She hated hearing of girls getting beaten up on the streets, but she especially hated when it was one of hers.

  “Same old,” Desiree replied with a shrug, digging into a big slice of chocolate cake that was set in front of her. “No new predators, if that’s what you mean. Believe me, after that serial took out all those girls in Seattle, I would tell you if I saw something going on.”

  “I know you would.”

  They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes while Desiree enjoyed her cake. Jane realized how few friends she really had when it hit her that she was far more comfortable sitting here chatting with a woman who worked as a prostitute, who she had once arrested, than with anyone else of her acquaintance. Even Gruber wasn’t a particularly enjoyable man to be around socially. He was too much of a cop stereotype for her liking. He drank too much and enjoyed the power of his job a little too much.

  “I heard you got tangled up with the Boss,” Desiree said, bringing up the reason for their meeting. “He’s bad news my friend. Better to just let that one go.”

  Jane frowned in
annoyance and replied, “That’s not going to happen, so if you invited me here just to warn me away from him then you can forget it. I’ve been warned away from him by the man himself, his sister and my own partner. I don’t back down, Des. You should know that better than anyone.”

  Desiree sighed heavily. “Of course I do. But I’ve grown to like my adorable little coplette and I don’t want you to turn up dead.”

  “I can take care of myself,” Jane replied dryly. She was getting sick of everyone suggesting she might need assistance and warnings. She was a grown woman and had been on her own since she was sixteen years old. She could handle herself.

  “I know, baby, I’m not saying otherwise,” Desiree said soothingly. She leaned back in the booth and pushed her empty plate to the edge of the table where the waitress whisked it away. “I do have something, if you want it.”

  Jane sat up straighter and leaned forward, smiling in anticipation. “Absolutely.”

  “Well, I have this good friend who sometimes hangs out with those guys over at one of the Russian owned restaurants – the one where the mobster types like to hang out. She appeals to their type I guess and can make good business over there. She was telling me about this conversation she overheard. One of those guys came over from the motherland a few weeks ago and he had a little too much to drink and was spouting off about some business or other involving the big guy himself. He was bragging about it and saying how he wants to learn from the best and only one guy knows how to run this city.”

  “They were talking about Sitnikov,” Jane murmured.

  Desiree shrugged her broad shoulders. “No names were said, but there’s only one Boss in this town.”

  “Go on, what else did your friend find out?” Jane asked, barely able to contain her excitement.

  “The guy was saying about how he heard from another guy that the Yankovich business was done real professional, like vicious but clean. Apparently the Boss don’t mind getting his hands dirty still and he impressed the hell out of this new guy by taking care of business himself. Then they heard about the cops sniffing around and everything went real quiet until the cops settle down. Only one cop never settled. She keeps digging and digging. The Boss is annoyed that this squeaky clean little detective got her hands on some of his financials so he had his lawyer bring everything over to the big house for an audit. It’s only there for the next few days while they comb through everything and make sure there’s no trace of Yankovich.”