“I subdued a woman once, a half-breed actually. It made things so much easier. Bethany hardly fought me. But I don’t think I want that this time. I like you afraid. I like your tears.” He leapt from his spot and came right next to her, kneeling down close enough to place his palm across her breasts.
She struggled to move. She would continue to fight until her last ounce of strength. The urge to call for Gunnar lambasted her. If they’d been mated, she would reach him with a simple thought. Except, if she’d been mated to him, he’d endure this torture and it would devastate him. If he was being hurt, being assaulted, the last thing he needed was her alerting him to Andros’ intentions. Right now she had to rely on herself. “Has your şefi given you permission to do this to me?”
Andros’s fingers stilled on the button of her waistband, his gaze sweeping the room and focusing on the door.
“Has he?” she demanded, latching on to her only remaining chance to stall Andros.
He plucked at her silk shirt, pulling it loose. Cool air hit her skin as he drew it upward exposing her midriff. “Şefi doesn’t need to know.”
There it was. She’d heard it, the telltale sign of apprehension. She wasted no time and tried again, questioning him, attempting to put doubt into his mind. “You can’t hide something like that. He’ll know. I’ll tell him.”
“Maybe I kill you. Then, you won’t be able to say shit.” The loud crack of material tearing followed as he rent her shirt straight up to her breasts. Her pulse raced, shadows of fear rimmed her vision and she bit into her cheek refusing to allow hysteria to take over.
“Şefi wouldn’t like that very much.” Nadia jolted as a female voice broke the silence.
Andros snarled and cursed. “What do you want, Kirli?”
“They told me to bring the female to the command post.”
Nadia turned her head and tried to make out the female. She was petite and willowy, like a ballerina. Wispy dark hair piled onto the top of her head in a messy bun. Tattered clothes hung on her thin frame but she crossed her arms over her chest and didn’t leave the room. Nadia promised herself she’d thank the female for intervening when she did.
“Fucking hell.” Andros backed away. He stalked to the other side of the room, leaned against the wall and glared.
Turning her attention away from him, she focused on the female and watched as she took purposeful steps to Nadia’s side. Nadia’s heart rate thrummed wildly, the damp skin on her face from her tears and ache in her shoulders intensified as she waited—hoped—for an escape from this horror.
“Let me help you up.” Her voice held a deep accent reminiscent of their homeland. When her eyes took in Nadia’s shirt and injuries, she recoiled, fingers digging into her thigh and twisting the airy materiel in a tight fist. “Sorry this happened,” she swallowed hard. “I’ll get you away from him,” she whispered hoarsely.
Nadia rolled a bit so the female could loosen the rope at her wrists, and as soon as she was free, she pushed to her feet and stood. She grabbed the female’s hand and squeezed. “Thank you. Oh my God, thank you.”
The female nodded. “Come on, we’ve got to get going.” She pointed to the door indicating Nadia should go first. Having someone at her back helped to assure Nadia that Andros wouldn’t be attacking from behind. She forced her feet to move, forced the nervous adrenaline to calm enough for her to put one foot in front of the other. Heading for the doorway, she lifted her chin and strode out of that nightmare.
As they exited the chamber, she hoped she wasn’t heading for a different one.
“Şefi requires you to assist Jahan. He’s in the lounge.” The female’s arm came to rest along the small of Nadia’s back, reassuring while leading her to the left.
Andros groaned a curse. “What’s that little prick need me for?”
The female laughed. It was melodious and faint. “Gunnar kicked his butt.”
“Fuck!” Andros stormed down the littered corridor and turned the opposite direction. As he disappeared from view, Nadia took a cleansing breath, happy she could no longer see him.
“Thank you, again. If you hadn’t come in right then, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”
The female didn’t reply, just kept trudging along. Nadia followed as they walked along a dark hallway with an arched ceiling. Every few yards, a light bulb hung from a thick metal rod, its low wattage just enough to light up the space so she could see where she stepped. The eerie lighting cast the entire area in a greenish hue. Refuse and broken plaster lined the walkway but when Nadia surveyed the walls, she could make out faint shimmering from glass tiles lining the middle. It almost looked like a decrepit railing.
“Where are we going? Nadia asked cautiously. The female seemed skittish, wary of each tunnel they came across.
“They told me to bring you to Command.” She brushed a loose wisp of hair off her cheek and Nadia saw a thin white scar running along the side of her face. It curved at her jaw and ended above her chin. As if she noticed Nadia’s scrutiny, she pressed her palm to the long-healed wound and picked up her pace forcing Nadia to turn her attention to the pathway in order to avoid tripping over larger bits of rubble.
Nadia watched the female take up the lead. Her thin flannel shirt hung to her waist and the torn ends dangled in odd slants. Tight ringlets danced with her dainty strides, the dampness in the air probably increased the twist of those elegant curls. On the back of her neck, a blue tattoo of a Cyrillic word marred her pale skin. Nadia had no idea what it meant but wouldn’t’ be nosy. “By the way, I’m Nadia.” She tried being friendly, hoping to make an ally who she could find help from if she needed it later on.
“They call me Kirli here.” Her voice sounded wooden, aloof.
“Nice to meet you, then. I wish it had been in different circumstances.” Nadia didn’t want to think about those circumstances.
Kirli nodded her head and pointed to the left indicating another sharp turn. As they rounded the corner, the narrow corridor gave off into a massive rectangular chamber. Directly in the middle was a thin square room with boxy windows, the glass panes were shattered and jagged. Situated on a platform, the elevated room had double stairways leading off the deck on either side reminding Nadia of a train platform. Cement lined each wall and the vaulted roof had recessed sections in precise rectangular forms. Concrete benches lined the walls and a sunken pathway lead through the middle of the massive space darting off into arched tunnels. Tracks lined the ground, some with broken rails and huge metal ties scattered about. Others still looked in working order. Two signs in faded block lettering had arrows pointing in different directions stating the location of the different tracks.
They were in a train station. A really old, really dilapidated, train station.
Her gaze swept the second staircase and a flash caught her eyes. Gunnar ran down the staircase, his long strides pounding with his speed as he rushed toward her. She stopped thinking about where they were and who they were with. Instead, she launched into a run as well and met him halfway.
The moment his arms caught around her, dragging her into his chest and holder her tight, she burst into tears and clung to him with a ferocity she could not contain.
“You’re here. You’re alive.” She wept against his throat, clinging to his strong shoulder.
“Shh, kjaere.” His fingers soothed a circular pattern across her spine. “Tell me what happened.” Low, ominous, his tone belied his patent concern. He’d seen her present state, her torn clothing, the blood on her face and he’d come to the worst conclusion.
“Andros tried, he, was going to…” The words stuck in her throat. Her body quaked as the anxiety from the experience surged in an uncontrollable torrent.
“Easy, breathe,” he coached while scooping her up in his arms and marching to one of the benches near the stairs. He sat down with her in his lap and turned her face to look at him. With a tender kiss, he simply looked into her eyes and breathed in and out, in and out, his chest expan
ding with each inhalation. Soon, she found herself copying the breaths, relaxing bit by bit. “That’s it, just look at me, you’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I promise.” The fire in his eyes burned a promise as well. He didn’t say it but that look sparked with vengeance. He’d kill Andros for touching her.
Gunnar nodded sharply and lashed his arms around her cradling her in his embrace. “What did he do to you?” His raw whisper held trepidation.
She had to ease his mind.
“He wanted to hurt me, but he didn’t get the chance. That female, Kirli, came in right before…” She didn’t continue. Gunnar’s deadly growl cut her words off. She’d said enough, anyway.
Gunnar stiffened and he cupped her cheeks with his palms, drawing her close. The space vanished as he pressed his lips to hers, tender and gentle, reverent. “I’m sorry, so sorry.” He tilted forward until their foreheads touched and he watched her closely. After a few seconds, he licked his lips and smiled. “Are you ready to be mine?”
Joy washed through her and the earlier torment diminished under the weight of her desire to mate Gunnar. She nodded emphatically. “So ready.”
He settled her on the bench and traced a fingertip down her pulse points. A flash of fang had her pulse surging in anticipation.
“I’ll be right back.” He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly before springing to his feet and strolling over to the bottom of the stairway. Nadia tracked his line of sight and found a few males had come to stand on the platform now. Two of them flanked the one in the middle. In an instant, she deduced him as Kane. His mahogany-colored hair hung in a long plait over his left shoulder. His prominent jaw and aquiline nose showed an aristocratic manner. Tall, muscular, and filled with haughty disregard, everything in his bearing indicated he’d been raised in the upper class of their society.
Kane moved forward with lithe and elegant motions. Each step showed his power—his physical command over every single person in the room. All eyes trained on him as he descended the staircase. Those two males followed in his wake more subservient than protective. He lifted a hand and waved it in a regal sweep. “Welcome to my home. It’s not often we have visitors.”
“None that stay very long,” a male at the far end of the long atrium shouted. The crowd replied with snickers and jeers.
When Kane paused on the second to last step, his lips pursing, dark eyebrows slanting down, the chortling stopped, silence reigned.
Gunnar made a show at surveying the area and scrunched his nose with a repulsed face. “It looks a little rundown. You might consider hiring an interior decorator.”
Kane snorted, shaking his head. “It has a certain charm. I think it fits an uprising perfectly.”
“If you’re going for abandoned and creepy.” Gunnar toed the broken edge of a floor tile popping the loose piece over with a clank.
Leaning against the railing, Kane bit into the corner of his mouth with one gleaming fang. His massive shoulders squared, a booted heel propped on the last step. “You can’t beat the security. We’re several stories below ground, heavily fortified with cement and rebar. This long forgotten subway is nearly impossible to locate. The layers of steel make invading by teleportation an act of suicide. We’ve even found telepathy can be sketchy.”
“I didn’t know Los Angeles had an old subway system,” Nadia murmured mostly to herself.
“That’s why we chose it,” Kane retorted.
“It’s very old. Los Angeles is so landlocked they must’ve built over it, but where ?” Nadia asked.
Kane strode closer and Gunnar’s boot heels scuffed as he came next to the male, ensuring Nadia’s safety. When Kane stopped in front of her, his fingertip tracking down her cheek, Gunnar’s warning snarl echoed in the cavernous room.
Ignoring Gunnar, Kane pressed his thumb to Nadia’s chin and tipped her head back. He tilted his head, inspecting her. Then, his mouth curved into a menacing grin. “Right under Komutani’s god damned feet.”
“Very good, kjaere.” Gunnar’s approval, whispered in her thoughts, bolstered Nadia.
“And, once Nakani holds up his end of the bargain, Aleksi Komar’s final resting place will be right here in this rundown mausoleum. There’ll be no funeral rites, no chanting, and no body to mourn. He’ll waste away in a pyre of refuse, in the garbage, befitting a worthless leader, who deserves nothing more than rats and filth.” Kane’s tone lowered, the accents clipped and ominous—filled with intense hatred. “Don’t you agree, my dear?”
Nadia snapped her jaw shut and bit back the urge to defend her leader. This male, with his vaulted ego, psychotic desire for revenge, and the despotic glint in his eyes wouldn’t welcome any rebuttal. He wanted her allegiance. It was written all over his features. One wrong step on her part and this whole charade would come crashing down.
“Can we throw the Kartal into the bargain, too?” she asked meekly. With a furrowed brow, she pressed trembling fingers to his arm in supplication. “Because of him, my family is poor. My parents hate each other. Our lives have been filled with nothing but pain and anguish. I know he’s going to mate me with someone I don’t want to have an unbreakable blood-bond with. And, he doesn’t care. He’s evil and mean.” Even though she sounded petulant, a bit of truth peppered her words, giving them credibility.
Kane threw his head back, the long russet braid swinging over his shoulder with the movement. His maniacal laugh made her jolt as he dropped his hand and snapped his fingers. Staring at Gunnar, the calculating spark lit up his eyes as lethal fangs slipped down stretching his upper lip. A muscle ticked in his cheek. “What do you think, Nakani? A two-fer?”
Gunnar shrugged like the whole thing bored him. “Sure, why not. I’m guessing everyone would be happy to see Ivan Komar’s demise. Think there’s room down here for two royal dickheads to rot?”
Kane leered and pointed in an arc around the chamber. “There’s enough room for the entire Komar family and a few more upper-class assholes. I can think of some Elders on the Council who can stop breathing forever.”
“Me, too,” Gunnar retorted with a deadly edge to his voice. But Nadia saw the way his predatory gaze fixed on Kane and held. Yes, Gunnar wanted to kill an aristocrat, but that honor went to Kane and no one else. “But, I want my female first.”
Kane nodded and smacked Gunnar on the back. “One look at that doe-eyed gaze and that full, pouty mouth, and I knew why you wanted her so badly. I’m eager for Aleksi’s head and you’re eager for a ball and chain. Let’s do this so we can both be happy.”
“After your hospitality earlier, you’d understand my apprehension.” Gunnar scratched a patch of dried blood from his temple. A healing bruise at his jaw and around his eye, showed what he didn’t say aloud. He’d been tortured. Anger seared through Nadia.
“There won’t be any more of those fun and games. Correct?” Gunnar’s eyes flashed with rage.
“It’s a mating. The only blood being spilled is for that purpose.”
Gunnar came beside Nadia and slipped an arm around her shoulder tugging her close. “So, tell us how this all goes down.”
Kane cocked an eyebrow and shook his head. “Nah, that’s a waste of time. We’ll just get to it. Come on. Let me introduce you to our mating expert. We’ll get things started, and if all goes well, we’ll have a ceremony soon.”
Gunnar massaged her shoulder softly. It was impossible to contain her expectations. She wanted this mating so damn bad.
“Nadia isn’t going to be mated in these rags. Since one of yours was responsible for her present state, I request she be made more presentable for such a sacred event.”
Kane turned on his heel, striding from the place. Nadia figured he hardly cared if her clothes were rags. She wouldn’t care about it, either. As long as she had her mate, and they were bound by blood, she’d do the ritual in her nursing scrubs.
“Once we get you settled, I’ll have my females clean her up all pretty for you.” Kane headed toward the far tunnel and he waved
his hand indicating they should follow.
Gunnar held her back for one long moment. He bracketed her cheek in his palm, thumb soothing the tear-stained skin. Tipping his head, he set his mouth on hers, utterly gentle and reverent. “Kjaere, this is it. We’ll find out that we are compatible. I know it. And, no matter what it takes, whatever happens next, you remember that I love you. That I want you as mine, forever.”
She pushed up on her tiptoes and deepened the kiss, sweeping her mouth across his firm lips until they softened and parted. Tentatively, she slipped her tongue between and tasted him. His groan echoed through his chest and under her fingers his heartbeat increased.
“Nadia,” he whispered as his hand slipped to her neck and held tight. “I can’t wait.”
She leaned her forehead atop his shoulder, inhaling the scent of him deep into her lungs. “Me, either. I love you, too.”
“You’ve got forever for all that sappy bullshit. I’ve got a Komar on a countdown clock. Let’s get you mated so I can have my prize,” Kane shouted and his voice boomed all around the huge cavernous room.
“He wants his prize.” Gunnar smirked with a nearly imperceptible wink. “And, I want mine.”
Gunnar took her hand in his and they quickly caught up with Kane. As they moved into the darkened corridor, Nadia bit her lip and tried to calm her nerves. She couldn’t help but murmur a little prayer of hope for their compatibility.
But then, she wondered what it would take to determine if they could be mated, and she thought about those leeches. Surely, that was the worst part of the whole process. Surely, there couldn’t be anything else to worry about.
Right?
Mated in Treason Page 27