Nadya's Nights: Road to Vengeance

by Indy McDaniel

  The shotgun clicked empty as she came within a foot of the creature and he looked down at her with a rage of his own. He clenched one of his furred hands into a fist and brought it forward, plowing into her stomach.

  The blow lifted Nadya off her feet, the air knocked clean out of her. Her sore back smashed into the same armored car that Ulbrecht had been thrown into and she slumped to the ground, gasping for breath, still holding the empty shotgun. She could feel the thuds of the werewolf stomping towards her and she lifted her dazed head to look at him.

  This isn’t working.

  I need silver.

  Carter’s corpse seemed so far away. She felt hopeless and beaten and – more than anything – tired. But deep down she felt a bit of warmth. She reached down and took hold of it to see what it was and wasn’t surprised to find her anger there.

  It was never far and the only truly surprising thing about it now was that it was so reduced. She clenched hold of it and focused on it, feeling it grow within her.

  Nadya found herself standing again, the werewolf still approaching her. She looked down at the empty shotgun she had then up to the werewolf and the collection of wounds she’d given him. Stepping forward, she lifted the shotgun and slammed the barrel forward, shoving it into one of the wounds in his stomach.

  She kept pushing, burying the weapon deeper and deeper into the monster and – amazingly – pushed him back a step. She released her hold on the gun and moved back, lifting a foot and kicking hard against the butt of the shotgun, impaling the weapon through the werewolf’s stomach.

  The beast howled in pain, arching his head back.

  Nadya spit blood on the monster, glaring at him.

  “Fuck you, dogcock!” she yelled then turned and ran around the armored car towards Carter’s corpse. She skidded to a stop in front of her and bent down, prying the dead woman’s fingers from her pistol.

  She got the gun free and hefted it, feeling the weight. She turned to see the werewolf ripping the gore covered shotgun from his gut before snapping the weapon in half and tossing it to the ground.

  Then he came at her again.

  Nadya lifted the pistol and fired. The shot struck the werewolf along his pelvis, creating a small hole, but the effect of the silver bullet was immediate as the creature let out a loud bellow of pain. She felt a smirk of satisfaction cross her face and fired again, this time hitting the monster in his thigh and slowing his approach some more.

  She wasn’t used to the weight of the gun and it made her shots come in much lower than she wanted. Lifting the gun higher, she fired again.

  Too high this time. The shot struck the werewolf in the shoulder. The beast’s anger and pain were evident from his continuing growls and snarls of rage.

  As the werewolf got closer she attempted to strafe to the side. The monster’s reflexes were faster than hers and he caught on to her trick quickly, darting directly at her. He leapt for her and she dropped flat to the ground, the beast flying by inches above her. She rolled over and pushed herself up, backing away from the werewolf, heading towards the cars.

  She didn’t know how many bullets were left in the gun but she didn’t want to bet her marksmanship skills on being able to put a round through the thing’s heart with whatever she had left. She wondered if Carter had any more weapons in her jacket, but now the werewolf was between her and the body.

  Then an idea came to her.

  The armored cars.

  The engines were still running; she could hear them idling behind her. Turning her back on the werewolf, she ran for the nearest one, hopping into the driver seat and closing the door. She put the car into gear and jammed the accelerator, sending the car lurching towards the beast.

  The werewolf stopped advancing and watched the car speeding towards him, bracing himself for the impact. He was figuring that the car would be crushed like the van it had collided with, just as she’d thought he would.

  I hope he’s wrong.

  Gritting her teeth, Nadya pressed the gas pedal to the floor, feeling the car burst forward with a bit of added speed and braced herself for the impending collision. She was going about forty when she hit the werewolf and it felt as if she’d suddenly been yanked to a halt. Neglecting to put a seatbelt on, she slammed forward into the steering wheel, feeling a rib or two bruise or crack. She wasn’t sure which.

  Her air was knocked from her body and she jammed her knee against the steering column. Looking through the windshield, she saw the werewolf had suffered a bit more.

  The reinforced car had taken the solid impact with the muscled creature well. There was a bit of a dent in the hood and she was sure the headlights were smashed, but the car had held together.

  The werewolf laid on the street in a stunned heap and – by the look of it – a pair of broken legs. They would heal rapidly, she knew, if given half a chance. She knocked the door open and slid out of the car, feeling her body screaming in pain as she moved.

  She didn’t give a fuck.

  This was her one chance to end the fucker.

  Limping forward at the fastest pace she could manage, Nadya stopped beside the monster and looked down at him. The thing whimpered like a baby. The sound gave her some satisfaction and made her wounds hurt a bit less. She lifted the pistol and aimed it at the werewolf’s chest.

  “Bad dog,” she said before pulling the trigger.

  She kept firing until the weapon clicked empty. By that time, the beast had gone limp and was already well into transforming back into his human form. Nadya tossed the spent weapon down on the chest of the naked man before her then turned and limped away.

  She spotted Ulbrecht’s still form and headed over, kneeling down next to him. Relief flooded through her when she saw he was still breathing and again she wondered why.

  The pain her body was in made her not care so much about the reasons behind her feelings and she tried to rouse him from his unconscious state. She knew there was no way she could carry him and they had to get out of there before the police or more assholes arrived.

  With a groan, Ulbrecht’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Nadya. He smiled weakly. “We’re alive?” he asked.

  Nadya nodded, returning the smile.

  It faded quickly when he reached up and gently guided her head down to him and he pressed his lips against hers. She struggled to get away and he released her. She glared down at him.

  “No,” she said simply then stood slowly, wincing in pain. “We have to go. Now.”

  She watched him rise to his feet, almost as slowly as she had. They were both pretty battered, it seemed. She turned to the second armored car, the only one that hadn’t suffered any damage, and limped towards it.

  “You can drive,” she said. “My leg is killing me.”

  Ulbrecht didn’t argue and walked around the car, getting in the driver seat.

  Nadya got in the passenger side, feeling her ribs shift as she sat down and she let out a yelp of pain. He looked over at her, concern on his face.

  She waved it away. “You can play doctor later. Get us out of here. And let me borrow your cell again.”

  He handed it over and started driving.

  Nadya dialed Vladimir again, hoping to hear better news this time. When he answered, she spoke immediately, the tiredness in her voice obvious. “Please, tell me that was the last of them,” she said.

  Vladimir chuckled. “From what our sources can tell,” he said. “Sorry about all this, Nadezhda. I didn’t know that bitch was so well protected. You did beautifully.”

  “Yea, me and the kid doctor,” she said. “We both need patching up now. Preferably someplace with lots of armed guards that are paid to protect my ass this time.”

  Vladimir told her to come home.

  Not home to her flat. To his home, where she’d grown up.

  She didn’t argue.

  There was no place safer and at the moment she really wanted to be someplace safe. She hung up and told Ulbrecht where to go then sat back in
her seat, sneaking a glance over at him.

  She wasn’t going to mention that he’d just given her the first real kiss she’d ever experienced. He didn’t need to know that and she didn’t want him to know. And she also didn’t want to admit that sometime over the course of the night, she’d developed some kind of feelings for him.

  But she knew that it was true.

  She pushed the feelings away, not wanting to think about them and in too much physical pain to deal with any emotional baggage.

  Maybe tomorrow, after a good amount of sleep, a fistful of pain meds, a bit of food and maybe even a new pair of shoes…

  NIGHT TWO:

  Race for the Cure

  Chapter Twelve: Waking Up

  Nadezhda Valentina’s eyes fluttered open.

  She looked up at a white ceiling. A drug-induced haze made it hard for her to remember where she was. She pushed herself up and her left arm throbbed. She looked over and saw clean bandages wrapping around her shoulder.

  Self-consciousness and suspicion crept into her as she realized she only wore her underwear. It cleared as ever so slowly her mind allowed her to remember the events that had occurred the night before.

  From the bar brawl to the Summoner she’d eliminated and her blobby bodyguard. Then there were the next wave of assholes that’d come for her and the werewolf who’d been such a persistent pain in the ass.

  She also remembered the young doctor-in-training who had saved her life more than once. The thought of him brought a brief smirk to her lips.

  She looked around the room and recognition and safety flooded into her.

  She was home.

  Vladimir Belikov’s estate where she’d lived from the age of thirteen until just recently.

  They’d come to the estate after Nadya had taken out the werewolf. Her and Ulbrecht, the doctor.

  Well, medical student for sure. He’s too young to be a full doctor.

  They had been battered, bruised, and exhausted by the time they’d arrived. They’d been split up to receive medical attention and that had been the last time she’d seen him.

  After getting patched up and having a short chat with Vladimir, she’d come back to her room to find it just as she’d left it. The only sign that anyone had been in there since was the total lack of dust. Vlad had apparently been keeping the room tidy in case she stopped in for the night.

  She’d stripped down, got under the covers, allowed the pain medication to take over, and surrendered to slumber. Now she was awake again and looking over at the clock on the nightstand.

  The sun would just be setting.

  Definitely time to get up.

  She shoved the covers away and sat up on the edge of the bed, looking down at her body. She’d acquired more than a few wounds over the course of the previous night and the various bandages she wore were evidence of it.

  There was the thick bandage over her shoulder. That wound she remembered well. It was the worst bullet wound she’d taken. She’d been grazed a few times, but never so seriously. She absently rubbed at the bandage where the wound was. If the bullet had taken a slightly different trajectory, she’d be dead.

  Lucky.

  On the other arm – about midway down – was a smaller bandage covering where another bullet had grazed her. That one was nowhere near as bad. She couldn’t even feel it. Nor could she remember exactly how she’d gotten it. At some point during her raid on the safe house, but that was all she could remember.

  Her jaw felt stiff and a little swollen and she remembered the hard knock she’d received from the werewolf. Again, luck was on her side. The Hunter who’d tried to assist her in killing the beast had received a similar blow and had lost her head. Nadya didn’t think her jaw was even broken, just mightily bruised.

  More bandages wrapped tightly around her ribs. The reason was evident as she drew in a deep breath and felt the bones shift slightly, causing her pain.

  She attempted to stand and almost fell face first onto the carpeted floor. Instead, she dropped to a kneeling stance, letting out a yelp of pain. She placed a hand over her bruised right knee. The ribs and the knee were yet more wounds from her encounter with the werewolf.

  Crashing an armored car into a creature that was nearly five hundred pounds of muscle was bound to put a few dents into a person. Clenching her teeth, she managed to stand and limp towards a small vanity set up next to the bed.

  Sitting in the chair in front of the vanity, Nadya looked into the mirror and saw the side of her jaw bruised and swollen. She wouldn’t have to worry about drunken assholes trying to get into her pants for a little while it seemed. Noticing some smaller wounds along the left side of her face, she leaned forward and examined herself more closely.

  They looked like burns.

  Confusion crossed her face and she looked down to her left arm to see more of the wounds on her hand. Then the memory came back to her. The narrow escape down the alley in Ulbrecht’s Benz. The sparks had scorched her. The burns didn’t look too bad though. If they scarred at all, they’d hardly be noticeable.

  She spotted a bottle of painkillers on the vanity with a glass of water next to it. She took three and chugged down all the water.

  Pushing herself up, she hobbled over to the nearby dresser. She leaned heavily against it as she pulled open drawers and got some clean clothes. She was a little surprised to find more than what she remembered leaving behind when she moved out.

  Vladimir must have had one of the maids go shopping for me to give me more of a choice of outfits.

  She took out a few things that appealed to her then turned and headed for the adjoining bathroom.

  If anything, the bathroom was even cleaner than she’d left it. The tile was practically sparkling. She set her clean clothes down on the lid of the toilet and grabbed a towel from the stack, setting it on top of the clothes. There was a laundry hamper waiting for any dirty clothes to be deposited into it. At the moment it was empty.

  Nadya reached behind herself with her right arm and worked the clasp of her bra, getting it undone and letting it slide down her arms. She tossed the bra into the hamper then reached down, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and sliding them down her legs about halfway before letting them fall the rest of the way. She stepped out of them then bent forward and picked them up, tossing them into the hamper as well.

  She glanced behind her and noticed the bathroom door was still open. She pushed it closed and flipped the deadbolt to the locked position. Then she turned back to the large, marble tub and pulled the shower curtain back. She twisted the knobs to get the water running. She held her hand under the running water until it warmed up to her satisfaction then flicked the shower on.

  She moved back to the sink and took a small pair of grooming scissors from a glass sitting beside the sink. She used the small tool to snip through her bandages, tossing them into a nearby wastebasket. Once they were gone, she surveyed her damage more closely. The wound across her left shoulder was a long ragged tear, a bit inflamed. Her midsection was also badly bruised where she’d cracked her ribs. The graze on her right arm was just as she’d suspected, barely noticeable.

  Stepping into the tub, the warm spray of water collided with her body. She let out a soft moan of relief. She tilted her head forward into the water and let it run through her blonde hair, washing through it and plastering it to her forehead.

  For a few minutes, she just let the water flow over her. It washed the grime and sweat of the previous night off of her and down the drain. Then she reached over and grabbed a brand new bar of soap and washed herself more thoroughly. After she finished with that, she washed her hair then shut the shower off.

  Getting out of the tub, she grabbed a towel and dried herself off. She put the clean clothes on, sliding into a fresh pair of panties before putting a new bra on and clasping it. Doing it one-handed was a bit tricky, but she managed. Then she grabbed a pair of black cargo pants and sat down on the toilet to put them on, minding her
bruised knee. She grabbed her shirt last, a short-sleeved button up which was also black. Slipping it on, she buttoned it up all the way then went to the sink to brush her teeth and comb her hair.

  When Nadya exited the bathroom, she limped a bit less and she looked a lot more refreshed.

  As she came back into her bedroom, she heard a knock at the door and went over. She opened the door and found one of the maids there. She was a young woman – about Nadya’s age – with straight red hair pulled into a bun. She wore a bright smile.