Nadya's Nights: Road to Vengeance

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by Indy McDaniel


  That seemed to get through to him a bit better and he gave her a nod.

  Cyrus returned with some clothes, manly and too big for her petite frame, but she wasn’t going to complain. She took the clothing from him and nodded to Ulbrecht. “Get him set up with his next dose. Then you can deal with me,” she said, her voice hard despite how weak she felt.

  She wasn’t about to let either of them push her around even if she didn’t think she’d be able to physically force them to do what she wanted. Neither of them seemed interested in pushing the issue, though, and she watched them head back to the study.

  Once she was alone, she shuffled through the clothing, finding some boxers and slipping them on. She wasn’t looking forward to putting a shirt on. Her back throbbed with pain from the whipping she’d endured. The wounds would have to be dealt with anyway. So instead of covering her chest, she set the rest of the clothing aside for the moment and laid face down on the couch. Her nipples ached from the needles that had impaled them, but they were superficial wounds at best.

  Painful, humiliating, superficial wounds.

  Nadya crossed her arms in front of her and laid her head sideways on top of them, cursing herself for letting the bastard bloodsucker get a hold of her. Not so much for what he’d done to her, but because Ulbrecht had to come to her rescue. He needed to be receiving his cure, not running around saving her ass.

  As if to punctuate her thoughts, she heard an inhuman howl of pain from the study. The sound hurt her in a way that was much different than what Remy had done to her and it felt odd for her to feel such empathy for someone else. She wasn’t really sure she liked the feeling much.

  He saved my ass and I owe him, she thought. That means I keep him from going all wolfy. Once that’s done, we go our separate ways.

  She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that, either.

  Things had become increasingly more complicated since she’d met the young vet student. Her own life had been reduced to shambles. Once he was gone, she might have a chance of salvaging something. What, exactly, she had no idea. She wasn’t sure if Vladimir would take her back, and she wasn’t enthusiastic about returning to see if he would since he might just put a bullet in her head.

  Despite the disturbing thoughts running through her mind, the mental wandering had helped her to push the physical pain away. It wasn’t until she caught the sight of movement that her eyes shot up and focused. She was pulled from her reverie, the pain of her wounds flooding back into her.

  Cyrus had come out of the study with a first aid kit. She mentally prepared herself for the added sting that she was about to feel when he cleaned her wounds.

  “How badly did this affect his situation?” she asked as he knelt down next to her and opened the kit.

  Cyrus removed items from the kit, preparing to attend to the wounds. His eyes looked at the damage done to her backside. There were a number of gashes from the whip and even where it hadn’t broken open her skin there were large red welts, causing the majority of her back to be swollen.

  “I’m not going to lie about it,” he said, dowsing a rag with peroxide. “That was about the last thing he needed to be doing at this stage. Adrenaline feeds the virus. Makes it harder to drive out. There wasn’t any stopping him, though. I tried to get him to stay behind and let me find you on my own, but he insisted.”

  Nadya’s jaw clenched as the wet rag touched against her back, feeling the cold of the liquid and the burning of the peroxide against her wounds.

  “You should have tried harder,” she said through her teeth, not at all happy about the news. “Or just left me and not told him anything.”

  “You’d be dead now,” Cyrus pointed out, continuing to clean the wounds on her back. The rag grew red from her blood. “Do you really care about him that much?”

  Anger flowed into her at his comment and she had an urge to snap at him and tell him it was none of his fucking business. Instead, she managed to cool herself down enough to offer a more detailed response. ”I threw my life away so that he’d have a shot at having one for himself. If that all goes to hell, then everything I’ve done has been for nothing. And then it won’t matter if either of us are alive or dead. If this cure doesn’t take, I’ll kill him, for myself as much as for him. It’s the only shot I have at redemption.”

  Finishing with her back, Cyrus set the bloody rag aside and took another, putting more peroxide on it. He moved to her neck, cleaning the blood from the bite there. “Strange way to earn redemption, by murdering the person you’ve done so much to save.”

  The more he spoke, the more he annoyed Nadya. “You’re starting to see why you should have left me with the vampire. If I didn’t come back, and you didn’t cure him, then you’d be able to hide him, keep him safe.”

  She supposed that was a possibility anyway, although she knew she wouldn’t be able to lie to Vladimir if he asked what had happened. It wasn’t that she wanted to die, but she’d have been happier knowing that what she’d been striving to accomplish all night had succeeded even if she didn’t live to see it through.

  That and she didn’t like the thought that she was now indebted to Ulbrecht even more now, as well as Cyrus. There were only so many people she could make things up to, and it seemed like the further she traveled along the path she’d chosen, the farther it took her from the life she’d had only a night before. That life had been dangerous and full of death, but she’d been content and even felt safe.

  Now she only felt alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Reunion

  After Cyrus finished bandaging her wounds, Nadya managed to fall into a thankfully dreamless sleep. She remained on the couch much like she had been, with the shirt pulled over her and buttoned up. She hadn’t dared try to roll onto her back – or even her side – since the lash marks were still plenty tender. Her head rested on her arms crossed in front of her, only now her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and steady. Her skin was quite pale from the blood loss she’d sustained. The majority of the wounds she’d sustained were more or less superficial, and aside from some particularly nasty scars across her back, she’d heal up nicely.

  An indeterminate amount of time later for Nadya, a hand pressed against her shoulder. She awoke suddenly and – if not for her weakness – would have probably broken the hand that had been laid upon her. Instead, her eyes fluttered open and she looked up to the figure standing over her. Blinking the residual sleep from her eyes and forcing them to focus, she recognized the figure as Cyrus. Her first thoughts were of Ulbrecht and the cure.

  “Ulbrecht?”

  Cyrus shook his head, taking his hand off her shoulder, noticing that the touch was making her uncomfortable. “He’s sleeping. Things are progressing as best as they could be, under the circumstances.” He nodded back to the front door. “There are some people here. I thought you’d want to know.”

  Alarm bells sounded in Nadya’s head.

  Had Remy returned with a group of his werewolf pals with the intention of storming the mansion and dragging her back out to finish the job he’d started?

  If that were the case, she imagined she wouldn’t have gotten such a calm wake-up call. Then her mind flashed to Vladimir. If he’d found her, the results might be just as bad.

  “What do they look like?” she asked, a bit of an edge to her voice.

  “Professionals,” Cyrus replied simply. “Do you want me to go see what they want?”

  “No,” Nadya replied firmly, pushing herself up.

  During her short rest, her body had stiffened up, adding to her already abundant aches and pains. She winced as she forced herself up into a sitting position. “I’ll deal with it.”

  She reached for the pants he’d brought out for her but figured it wasn’t worth it. It was bad enough she was half crippled with pain; she didn’t want to have to be using one hand to keep her pants up. “I left a gun on your balcony. Get it for me.”

  Cyrus didn’t look happy about it, but he left
to retrieve her pistol anyway. Sitting up straighter on the couch, Nadya tried to force at least some of the pain away, but it didn’t seem to work too well. When Cyrus returned with the gun, she took it from him and rose to her feet. She almost fell back onto the couch when she tried, but Cyrus was fast to take hold of her and help her get steadied. “Are you sure?”

  “Hundred percent,” she responded, making her voice seem strong if nothing else. “If it is who I think it is, they won’t give a shit about what you’ve got to say.”

  Pushing away from him, she managed to remain standing on her own. Gripping the gun tightly in one hand, she started for the door, limping slightly. Whatever energy the short rest had helped to restore in her was quickly being sapped. Still, she wasn’t about to let that stop her from facing the music, regardless of how things turned out. She gripped the door handle and opened it, stepping outside.

  The cool night air brushed against her. Her hair fluttered across her forehead. The breeze helped to refresh her a bit. Heading down the path to the front gate, she tried to prepare herself for anything, including an unceremonious execution.

  Walking down the path to the main gate, she caught sight of a group of people standing on the other side, just outside their cars. Moving closer, she caught the familiar sight of Vladimir. Beside him was Sven, which made her glad. She’d been worried about him catching hell for letting her escape with Ulbrecht.

  Approaching the gate, Nadya stopped before it. She saw guns, but none of them were drawn. The grip she had on her own weapon relaxed slightly and she kept it at her side. She felt ridiculous in a pair of boxers and a shirt about three sizes too large for her, but it was better than the alternative.

  She nodded to Vlad, trying to look as strong and tough as possible. “I guess you found me,” she said.

  It was hard to read Vladimir’s face to determine if he was glad to see her, or extremely pissed off at her. Nadya imagined it was a bit of both. “The werewolf?” he asked, simply.

  She gave a brief shake of her head. “He’s not a werewolf yet,” she replied. “And that’s something I’m working to keep from happening, which was the only goal I had when I left. Like I said then, regardless of the outcome, one way or another, it will be dealt with.” She took a step closer to the gate, her eyes glaring into Vladimir’s. “But there is one thing that will not fucking happen, and that’s me letting you in here to take him back to your little aquarium to watch him turn and try to subdue him. You and I both know that’ll never work… and I’ve seen what happens to the failures. That’s not going to happen to Ulbrecht. Not while I’m alive, anyway. So, do what you have to.”

  Vladimir looked slightly hurt by her words. “I’m not here to kill you, Nadezhda,” he said. “What’s happened to you?”

  Managing a smirk, Nadya felt a tinge of relief at his words. “It’s been a long fucking night…” was the only explanation she gave to him. “The car should be just outside there with you. I’d offer you the key, but I misplaced it somewhere.” She imagined it was still in the pocket of her pants back at that hellhole Remy had taken her to, unless Ulbrecht and Cyrus had retrieved them for her. Either way, she didn’t have the key on her and she wasn’t sure where it was.

  Vlad gave her a smile. “That’s alright. I’ve got a spare.”

  “Well, then, you can take it back with you,” she said. “I’m done with it now. There should still be some gas left. Sorry I couldn’t return it with a full tank.” She could feel her body growing weaker by the moment; her already limited amount of energy waned rapidly.

  Reaching into his pocket, Vladimir pulled out a key identical to the one he’d handed over to her earlier in the night. He extended it to her through the bars of the gate. “Why don’t you hang onto it for a while? You seem to be taking good care of it. You can return it when you’re through here.”

  Nadya felt as much of a spike of happiness as her body could muster in its current state. He hadn’t come right out and told her she was welcome back, but he might as well have, and that lifted a great weight from her shoulders.

  Reaching forward, she took the key from him and gave a nod. “I can do that. You might also want to keep an eye out for a vampire. I didn’t kill that werewolf from last night dead enough, which is the main reason I look like complete and utter shit right now. He seems to have an infatuation with me, but I wouldn’t put it past him to go after you, too. So keep an eye out.”

  Vlad nodded. “I will. Do you want me to leave some men here with you?”

  Nadya shook her head wearily. “No, but if you could send some decent weapons to kill the fucker with, it would be much appreciated.”

  “That, I can definitely do,” he said. “They’ll be here by tomorrow night. I only ask that you get some rest.” He reached to his back pocket and pulled out a wallet, opening it up and pulling out a fairly large number of high-marked bills. He passed them through the gate as well. “So you can get the tank filled.”

  Nadya took the money and forced a smile. “The Maserati thanks you,” she said. “Have a safe trip back.” She turned and started back towards the mansion, needing desperately to get off her feet. She heard Vladimir and his men getting back in their cars behind her and a few moments later engines revving up.

  Despite all the shit she’d been through over the course of the night, things hadn’t turned out as badly as they could have. She could hear the sounds of birds chirping off in the distance somewhere and figured morning couldn’t be too far away.

  Entering the mansion, she found Cyrus waiting for her. “Well? What was that about?”

  “Employer. Checking up on me,” she said, handing the car key and money over to him as a wave of dizziness flowed over her. “Just wanted to make sure I was alright.” The dizziness and weakness overcame her, causing her to black out, her body dropping to the floor.

  NIGHT THREE:

  Settling Scores

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Re-Armed

  Another night was upon Nadezhda Valentina and as far as she knew, it could very well be her last.

  She sat at Cyrus’s dining table with a large steel case open in front of her. Another case was still closed and set beside her on the floor, along with a long, narrow cylindrical container. From the open case, she’d removed several items.

  There had been a pair of Glock 29’s, which she’d set aside for the moment. She took out several clips for the pistols, filled with silver bullets. Picking up one of the handguns, she slammed a clip into it and racked the slide before engaging the safety and setting it back down. She did the same to the second pistol and set it beside the first. She found an ammo belt in the case and slipped the remaining clips into it.

  With the first case empty, Nadya closed it up and set it aside, pulling up the second one. Her fingers pressed against the clips holding the case closed and they flipped open. Lifting the lid up, she spotted a sleek Heckler & Koch MP7.

  Taking it out, she checked to make sure it wasn’t loaded then pulled a forty-round magazine from the case and inserted it into the weapon. Setting the MP7 down onto the table, she pulled out several more magazines from the case. There was an ammo bandolier as well, which she slipped the magazines into before sliding it over her head.

  Once the second case had been emptied out, she picked up the long cylindrical case. Taking hold of it, she unscrewed the top half of it and slid it off.

  Inside was a katana.

  Nadya had developed an interest in Japanese Samurai when she’d found Vladimir’s collection of Akira Kurosawa movies. Seeing her interest, Vlad had made some calls and flew an authentic Kensei to the compound to train her in the weapons and techniques of the Samurai.

  Over the course of six years, Nadya had become quite adept at using the blade.

  She drew the weapon out of the case it rested in. Pulling the sheath off, she examined it. It was beautifully crafted and – like the bullets – was coated with silver, making it a very useful weapon for hunting either werewolves or vampires.
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br />   As far as she knew, she’d be after both. Remy might have made the switch over to being a bloodsucker, but he still had werewolf friends. Any of the bastards that stood in her way wouldn’t be around long enough to cause anyone else any trouble. And she wasn’t about to leave any of them with their heads attached to come back as vengeful vampires.

  She’d made that mistake once, and that was enough.

  Standing up from the table, Nadya tested the weight of the sword, giving it a few swipes. It felt good.

  Sliding the blade back into its sheath, she set it on the table. Grabbing a double shoulder holster, she slid it on and adjusted it before depositing the two pistols into it. She brought the ammo belt around her waist and snapped it together before taking out a thigh holster for the MP7. Once it rested snuggly against her leg, she picked up the katana and slid it into the ammo belt so that it rest in the proper position to draw it smoothly and easily.

 

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