Casey

by Claire Marta

  Losing Helena and Morgan to Ivan would kill her.

  “All right.” Her voice was a fragile, broken whisper. “I’ll do what you want.”

  Ivan took her arm, pulling her roughly from the room and towards the stairs. “I’ll wash away Alexei’s mark on you and we finish what I started at the Club. You’ll be bleeding when I finally fuck you after receiving the bite of my crop and cane.”

  He thrust her into a palatial-sized bedroom. Casey was horrified to find a sturdy wooden stock on one side of the room and a St. Andrew’s cross on the other. On the mattress, an assortment of whips, paddles, crops, and other toys had been set out.

  Ivan’s personal dungeon.

  The dress she’d worn the previous night to Alexei’s house was laid out with her heels.

  She prayed like she hadn’t in years. That Gotti had gotten hold of Mendez. That the police had discovered she was missing. That together, they’d figure out that Ivan had her and track her down before Ivan took his pound of flesh from her, one lash of the whip at a time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Ivan hauled her across the room to the foot of the St. Andrew’s cross. “Strip.”

  She could do this. If it meant keeping Helena and Morgan alive, she could do this.

  Casey took off her borrowed clothes and stepped into place, her compliance forced when he bound her wrists, spread her legs, and secured her feet more than hip-distance apart. He fisted her hair and bit the meat of her neck where it met her shoulder. It felt hard enough to draw blood.

  “Pain slut,” he crooned, thrusting a hand between her legs and finding her far too dry. “You need to relax,” he told her. “I have just the thing.”

  He left her for a moment and came back with a hypodermic syringe loaded with God knew what.

  “As much as I like the fear in your eyes,” he told her, “I want your submission more.”

  Forget sterilizing her skin. He stuck the needle into her ass. She felt the prick of the point, the sting of the injection that pushed into her, the spreading warmth that imparted a false sense of peace as it entered her bloodstream. “We will use this until it comes naturally. You will be my pet. The perfect sex slave. The only woman I have found strong enough to take what I have to give, da? I will make you yearn for me. You’ll be eager for my possession. I will condition you to obey me. You’ll crave the pleasure and the pain. You will beg me for it,” he rumbled, “won’t you, slut?”

  A moan escaped Casey’s throat when he twisted one of her nipples. The jolt sent a bolt of unwanted pleasure arrowing to her groin.

  “My wife Elena was frail, delicate like glass. She broke too easily,” he continued. “Not just at my hands but Alexei’s, too. She was one of his favorite whores. Got herself pregnant. Birthed one of his bastards. But you don’t have to worry about that. I never let him get the chance to fuck you.”

  Casey frowned. He had left her with Popov. He couldn’t know for certain that Popov hadn’t fucked her... unless Alexei was already dead.

  Christ. The man had all but confessed.

  Ivan’s palm flattened confidently over her stomach. “When time is right, I will breed you. Not yet. First, I mold you. Teach you who your master is. Then I fill you with my seed until it takes root.”

  Casey’s limbs felt heavy. It was as if her body no longer belonged to her. She felt hot and cold at the same time. Leaving her where she was bound, the Russian stalked to the bed to examine his toys.

  “We have much to discuss, kiska, but not today. Over time, I will reveal all. I want to enjoy watching you break piece by piece.”

  “You swear you won’t touch Helena or Morgan?” She slurred the question, fearful that now he had her where he wanted, he’d recant on the deal.

  A dark eyebrow rose as he unbuttoned his shirt and stripped out of it. “I gave my word and will keep it.”

  Hand hovering over his selection on the mattress, he chose his favorite cane.

  The first strike came hard and fast. The drugs dulled her senses, numbing her to the worst of the hurt. She moaned, feeling the familiar swirl of pain and pleasure that she’d always felt at his hands. He wasn’t holding back. He seemed determined to find her limit and push her over. See just how much she could take. In this room, there was no such thing as a safeword. Ivan was king, the despotic ruler of his domain. Subjugated, she had been reduced to little more than a vessel for his use and abuse.

  Left with no choice, she was a pawn in a dangerous game. One that could leave her injured, maimed, physically and mentally scarred, bearing permanent reminders of the time spent under his hand. Proof of her submission, however forced it was. Thinking of his arsenal of weapons, she wondered if that wasn’t his plan, to leave his mark on her skin for all to see.

  The second blow fell, crossing the first and stealing her breath.

  He drew back his arm, ready to lay on a third when a shout filtered upstairs. Booted feet thundered. Men shouted. Gunfire erupted from different parts of the house.

  “Пиздец! Piz-dets!” Ivan swore under his breath. Discarding the cane, he grabbed a Glock from the bedside table.

  Casey raised her head. The room shifted before her gaze, the effects of the drug making her woozy. “You shouldn’t have kept the heels.”

  A scowl passed over the Russian’s face with realization. “A tracker! Fuck!”

  Casey managed a smirk. “Looks like you're the one who’s fucked now.”

  In two strides, he was beside her. Fingers winding painfully in her red hair, he yanked back her head. “They won’t have you. I’ll put a bullet in your head before we're ever parted.”

  A shiver snaked its way through her body. He was sick. Insane. She could see it in the light glimmering in his eyes. Not love but something darker. More insidious.

  Obsession.

  Noises came from the hallway, sounding like bodies and guns dropping. The door of Ivan’s bedroom burst open behind her. A shot rang out. “This time you’re dead!” Ivan cried. He fired another shot. “Nyet!” he cried. “It cannot be!”

  “You missed,” Malik’s familiar voice growled.

  Malik was here! He wasn’t dead? What about Iosefa? Was it possible that both of them had survived Ivan’s assassination attempt?

  Just then, she caught a glimpse of Ivan’s body flying across the room and hitting the wall hard enough to punch a hole in it. A streak of gray swept back, out of sight. Iosefa charged after him, taking hold of Ivan by the throat and lifting him high into the air. It looked like he had on a gray cloak, too, flapping behind him. Her caped crusader tonight.

  To her drug-fueled mind, she swore it looked like he had bat wings, leather-like skin stretched taut over a framework of bones. The Samoan’s exotically handsome face was contorted, distorted into something beastly by his rage.

  “Enough!” Tobias ordered, speaking just loud enough to be heard.

  “No,” Iosefa hissed, his voice oddly guttural. “We should kill him for what he had done to our fated mate.” His claw-like hand squeezed tightly around the unconscious Russian’s throat.

  Fated mate? She’d invoked the one-time rule. So what the fuck was he talking about?

  Casey blinked, trying to clear her vision. Why did the voice he was using sound so familiar and why did her body instantly react to it? She could feel herself softening and becoming pliant. Between her legs, her pussy throbbed in need.

  “Tobias is right. We cannot kill him even though I would gladly rip out his heart.” Malik appeared in her line of vision, his features hazy as if caught in some weird transition. The drug, Casey reminded herself. What she was seeing was a hallucination.

  Iosefa snarled, releasing his captive. Ivan slid down the wall and hit the floor. Somewhere in the background, shouts were growing closer.

  A hand touched Casey’s spine, making her flinch from the contact.

  “You're safe now,” Malik crooned in her ear, his lips whispering along her cheek.

  Another set of hands stroked her flanks
gently, causing her to whimper.

  “Forgive us, Casey. Aftercare must wait. Your team cannot find us here,” Iosefa whispered apologetically.

  Casey went still. Aftercare? What the hell did Iosefa know about aftercare? Why did he sound guilty that he couldn’t offer it to her? Ivan’s the one who fucked her up.

  “We must go now,” he said, torment in his voice. “Trust that we are watching. Trust that you will soon be free,” he finished, placing a kiss on her cheek.

  “Quickly,” Tobias commanded from somewhere behind them. “They will be on us shortly and we need to be gone. Her people will look after her and see that she gets medical attention.”

  Footsteps sounded behind her. Tobias brought his head close to her ear. “Say nothing,” he ordered softly. “Whatever you thought you saw here, we’ve proven that we mean you no harm. If you want to protect the men who love you, you’ll keep quiet about this. Lives are at stake. More lives than you know. All you need to do is pretend you were blind to what happened here. He gave you drugs. When Mendez and the rest of your team make it this far, you can regain consciousness then. Do you understand me, Casey Andersson?”

  “You’re not here,” she slurred. “No one is. I’ll be out in no time. I want him dead.”

  Tobias clasped her hand above her manacle. “In time,” he promised. “Everything in God’s time. Let’s go!”

  She closed her eyes, too tired to keep them open. She heard the drapes part, the window latch click. Felt the rush of cold air when they opened and closed. A minute later, footsteps charged up the stairs. A swat team swarmed into the room. Two of them took her down and covered her in a sheet.

  When she cracked open her eyes, Mendez and Fitzgerald were fussing over her.

  “Casey? Casey? Can you hear me?” Mendez asked, his voice anxious, his handsome features lined with worry. “Christ, this should never have happened.”

  “Call 911!” Fitzgerald hollered as armed agents flooded the space, taking charge of the unconscious Russian. “We have an agent and a suspect down. Have them send two ambulances, stat.”

  An agent and a suspect. When she’d been spirited away from the hospital, she’d been a suspect, too.

  Had someone found enough evidence to free her? Had Gotti managed to come through? Fuck. She’d have to keep her promise and treat him to dinner. That was going to go over real well with Malik and Iosefa if they cared for her like Tobias said they did. She might need to have a talk with them about that fated mate thing, though. There wasn’t going to be any mating, fated or otherwise, as long as she worked for the ATF. She refused to put others at risk if she could help it, and she certainly couldn’t afford the distraction of handling one lover, let alone two.

  Even if they loved her.

  Even if she loved them, too.

  Doms with benefits would have to suffice.

  Meaningless sex.

  No attachments.

  She could live without love, she told herself, her heart twisting in unwelcome denial. Ivan had proven that it wasn’t possible to share her heart. It would only annihilate her soul if she lost both of them again. The next time they might not be so lucky.

  Casey was aware of the carpet beneath her. How Mendez kept her safe in the haven of his arms.

  “It’s going to be alright,” he told her, finally noticing her eyes cracked open. “We’ve got your back.”

  Guilt and remorse were plain on his face. It mirrored the look painted on Fitzgerald’s as he raked his good hand through his hair in anxiousness.

  “Helena…,” Casey mumbled. “Braxton… My godmother… car accident today. Ivan responsible. East Bank Regional Trauma Center. Protect her.”

  She was so tired.

  Letting her eyelids flutter shut, she sank into the waiting darkness. She was safe. Pretty certain neither of them would leave her side any time soon. Her last lucid thought was of Malik and Iosefa. Had they really been here or had she imagined it all?

  Casey had fleeting moments of consciousness. The ambulance. EMTs, doctors, and nurses fussing around her. When she finally awakened fully, she found herself in a private room with an armed guard. For her protection, Mendez explained when he’d visited.

  Ivan was in custody. Thanks to the information she’d given Gotti, he’d been able to locate evidence to clear her name.

  It was one giant clusterfuck at the agency. Rogers was already in trouble for how he’d mishandled the situation. After remarking that she’d gotten what was coming to her and it just proved that women shouldn’t be in the field, Rogers had sent copies of Popov’s porn featuring Casey to his personal email with a note that he’d like to fuck that, too.

  He should have been fired. Instead, he’d been demoted and transferred out to a backwater office job in the middle of nowhere.

  Mendez was promoted from Casey’s partner to her boss. As soon as she was strong enough to be moved, he had her ushered into protective custody. Casey being Casey, she hadn’t gone quietly. Feeling responsible for everything her godmother Helena had been through, she’d insisted on staying at the older woman's house. They both needed time to heal.

  Casey’s physical wounds would mend but she knew she would live with the mental scars for the rest of her life. She wouldn’t let herself be a victim. Out of this nightmare, she’d grow stronger.

  Ivan was behind bars, but that didn’t mean he was harmless. The Russian had influence, money, and men. Hopefully, the evidence they’d collected and Casey’s testimony would ensure that he was put away for life.

  Arraigned for trial, he was being held without bond in a maximum security facility. Federal officers continued to watch the area surrounding the Braxton estate. Not trusting the government with their safety, Helena hired a private agency to guard them inside and out.

  With Helena and Dennis still recovering from the car crash, Casey took it upon herself to look after them, sharing duties with the nurse that had been hired.

  Decorating for Christmas proved the best distraction, allowing her to focus on something beyond the nightmares and flashbacks that she’d been experiencing. Eventually, she’d have to deal with them.

  As always, it would be alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “She’s fine,” Tobias assured them. “The Green Team reports all is well. Our brothers in the Order of the Gryphon will make certain that no further harm comes to your mate.”

  Two weeks had passed since Iosefa and Malik had left Casey bound to a cruel cross like a living sacrifice, waiting to be rescued after they had saved her. She had kept their secret.

  Their wildcat.

  Their good girl.

  She deserved a reward as soon as they were free to give it.

  Tobias had prevented them from seeking her out too quickly. He counseled patience, claiming that she needed time to process all that had happened and accept her fate.

  All Malik and Iosefa wanted to do was hold Casey. Provide a shoulder for her to lean on. Help her through recovery from the trauma she’d endured. She belonged between them. They wanted her here, where they could love and care for her properly. In their bed. In their lives.

  Morgan had tried to visit her. Excuses had been relayed. Not one to give up, she’d persisted until Casey had told her they could no longer be friends. That it wasn’t safe to be around her and she’d be better off this way.

  Casey had made no mention of Malik or Iosefa. Instead, she continued to push everyone away, including Morgan.

  Friday night—movie night—had come and gone with a somber mood. It had ended with Morgan in tears, taking comfort in the arms of her mates, Zac and Aiden. Even the spirits of the other cadre members had dimmed.

  “How much longer before we can see her?” Malik questioned their superior. They valued his judgment in all things but this was tearing them apart.

  In less than two weeks, Christmas would be upon them. The cadre had been busy transforming the Citadel with festive decorations. A live tree stood in the communal living room, its roo
ts in a bucket, ready to be transplanted outdoors when the holidays were done, the first tree of many in a windbreak for the planned playground they would create. The thick, fragrant branches were heavy with baubles and garland. Their presents for Casey were already tucked beneath it, ready for the day.

  Tobias sighed, the leather of his chair squeaking as he moved behind his desk. “She wishes to see no one. Perhaps she will change her mind in a week or two. Not all humans are as strong as your female. Anyone else would have easily shattered under such strain.”

  Iosefa hummed in his throat, pushing back the red knit cowl from his eyes. “Casey needs us. I feel it in my bones. How can you expect us to stand by when she is adrift and awash in pain? We need to anchor her. Help her in the wake of her transformation. She doesn’t know what’s happened, what it means, and how it will affect her. Morgan could help her understand but she’s shut out all of us, thinking to keep us safe. She’s holed up in Hyde Park and hasn’t left. It would be different if she came to the club. We could approach her then, reveal ourselves to her, show her who Moses and Aaron truly are.”

  “We know her,” Malik cut in desperately. “She’s protecting us, frightened of the fallout that Ivan could bring. Casey needs to be shown not just who we are but what we are. She needs to understand that we cannot be harmed the same way as mortal men. We can show her that loving us will not bring our deaths but create our future.”

  Just then, Malik’s cell phone played a ringtone that he’d set for Precious Pet, “I Wouldn’t Normally Do This Kind of Thing” by the Pet Shop Boys. Iosefa and Tobias’s supernatural hearing let them listen in as clearly as if she were speaking to them.

  “Hello, Moses?” she asked with more than a little frost in her voice.

  “Yes,” he hummed, adding just enough of his true voice to calm the older woman down.

  Precious Pet sighed. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I thought you and Aaron needed to know. Jesus. She should be the one to tell you this. I know I’m breaking her confidence here but the girl’s so goddamn stubborn. Look. She’s been crying her eyes out since she peed on a stick this morning and she’s terrified that it’s Ivan’s.”