Wrath's Storm: A Masters' Admiralty Novel

by Mari Carr

  “No, but thank you,” she murmured.

  “You’ll see someone? Talk to someone?” Nikolett asked, still intent and focused.

  Annalise nodded. “I will.” She’d resisted doing so before now. First, because she thought she could handle it, then because the guilt she’d felt over what happened to her sister made her feel like she hadn’t deserved the help or understanding a counselor would provide. As a psychologist, she knew exactly how stupid that was, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself from feeling that way.

  This time, she would get therapy.

  “Actually,” Walt said. “Do you have access to an X-ray?”

  Nikolett’s brow rose. “I do.”

  “She either needs her upper arm X-rayed here, if you have a portable one, or we’re going to a hospital.”

  “She might have a broken bone and you were having sex with her?” Nikolett’s brows rose higher, and her gaze turned accusatory as she looked from Walt to Jakob to the bed and back.

  “They were comforting me, Admiral.” Annalise was suppressing a slightly insane urge to start giggling.

  “Uh-huh…” Nikolett twisted to look back at Vadisk, who stared down at her, then shrugged one shoulder. “Call Nyx about the X-ray,” she said.

  Vadisk retreated a few steps and then took out his phone.

  “Thank you,” Walt said.

  “You’re welcome, Dr. Hayden.” Nikolett scooted forward a little on her chair. She was intense, her focus, when it landed, absolute. “Now, please tell me why you’re here, and why we’re covering up a murder.”

  Annalise opened her mouth, closed it, and looked at Jakob. He twisted so Nikolett couldn’t see his face, then grimaced ever so slightly. There was a key piece of “why” information they couldn’t answer—because Eric had forbidden them to.

  “No lies, please.” There was a warning in Nikolett’s voice.

  Annalise took a breath and looked at the other woman.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  Nikolett raised her gaze to the ceiling in exasperation as Jakob and Vadisk, who had finished his call, went to first check, and then welcome, room service. Food was placed on the coffee table, a coffee station set up on the sideboard, and everyone took a few minutes to get what they needed. Nikolett and Vadisk both got cups of coffee.

  At Walt’s urging, Annalise took more pain pills along with a bite of her quintessentially Polish breakfast—a slice of bread topped with kielbasa and scrambled eggs.

  Nikolett didn’t pressure any of them to start talking, but she also didn’t make the silence easy. Her focused regard was a sort of pressure that made her seem far bigger than her small frame. She was a presence, her authority and power quietly radiating from her.

  Annalise ate until she knew what she was going to say, then set down the rest of her breakfast and wiped her fingers.

  “We came to Krakow to talk to the medical examiner. I believe an unsolved murder here may be linked to other unsolved crimes from around Europe.”

  Nikolett’s back straightened. “A serial killer?” She twisted to look at Vadisk. “I thought you said this was about a stalker.” She swiveled back to Annalise. “You were kidnapped by a serial killer?”

  “No, I was kidnapped by a stalker. My stalker. In Frankfurt, and then Heidelberg, I had taken extreme measures to protect myself. Jakob came to Krakow because he is with me anytime I go anywhere or see anyone new.”

  Nikolett eyed Jakob. “Extreme measures, indeed.”

  “My coming here, breaking routine…my stalker—” Annalise stopped, forced herself to use his name. He was no longer an unnamed, shadowy threat. He was just a very sick person. Well…had been. “Axel followed me here, and took advantage of the opportunity.”

  “The stalker is not linked to the serial killer?” Nikolett asked doubtfully.

  “No,” Annalise said firmly.

  “We had some time on our hands, so we just thought we’d take on all of Europe’s bad guys,” Walt said cheerfully.

  Nikolett snorted out a surprised laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. “You lead a dangerous life, Dr. Fischer.”

  “I assure you I don’t mean to,” Annalise said.

  “Let us approach this logically.” Nikolett set down her coffee cup with a click. “Walk me through what happened yesterday.”

  Annalise opened her mouth, but stopped, suddenly overwhelmed.

  Walt, still seated beside her, put his hand on her thigh and squeezed gently. Then he began the story, starting with the fire alarm, and ending with Jakob’s agony and Vadisk’s arrival. By the time he was done, she was ready, backing up to describe what had happened to her once she’d been pulled from the crowd. She hadn’t really spoken about what had happened to her in that caravan. She hadn’t needed to, or wanted to, because the bruises and marks told the story. Yet, once she started talking, and as long as she kept her attention on Nikolett, she was able to disclose everything.

  Her calculated and unethical manipulation.

  The raw fear and rage she’d had to keep at bay.

  The first fruitless escape attempt.

  How she’d played along with, and into, his delusions.

  How she’d been willingly and intentionally submissive in a bid to buy time.

  What it had felt like when she hadn’t been able to pretend, those moments when he’d hurt her.

  The fear and horror of the bomb going off, not knowing if they’d survived.

  Eventually she ran out of words, and when she did, she felt both empty and lighter, as if by talking she had expunged some of the negative emotions. Really great sex could probably have done that too, if they hadn’t been interrupted.

  “Thank you for telling me,” Nikolett murmured. “And I’m so sorry for what you suffered.”

  Annalise nodded, her throat a little tight.

  “I wish I could leave it at that…” Nikolett’s face twisted with regret, but only for a moment. “However, since I now understand the dead body and bomb scene, I need to know more about this serial killer. And,” she looked at Jakob, “why I wasn’t informed of the possibility of there being a killer in my territory.”

  Annalise winced. She’d never been in a position to play inter-territory politics, but she knew that what they’d done was a major breach of etiquette, if not officially against any rules.

  Wishing she had case files to hand out the way she’d had at the restaurant with the fleet admiral, Annalise started to explain. She carefully omitted where she’d gotten the original list of potential victims, and why she was working on this case when active profiling was no longer what she did.

  Given the way Nikolett exchanged the occasional glance with Vadisk, the vagueness and omissions didn’t go unnoticed.

  When she was done walking them through the profile, Nikolett stood. “Very well. I have further questions, but rather than ask them now, I’ll save it until the meeting.”

  “What meeting?” Walt asked.

  “The meeting you’re going to attend in Budapest.” Nikolett looked at each of them in turn. “You’re coming with me, back to Hungary headquarters.”

  Jakob kept his arm on the small of Annalise’s back as they entered the modest three-story building. Admiral Varda’s headquarters were tucked away on a side street in the heart of Budapest, in a quaint neighborhood that boasted cafes, bakeries, flower shops, and boutiques.

  There was no sign on the building and nothing of interest to draw the attention of passersby.

  Nikolett pointed at Vadisk. “Please take them up. I will find Dimitri and have him join us in Nyx’s office.”

  Vadisk led the way, gesturing to a set of stairs. “The admiral and vice admiral have offices on the second floor.”

  Vadisk had flown the three of them and Nikolett to Budapest in his helicopter. Mercifully, prior to the trip, Nikolett had given them enough time to shower, change into clean clothing, and pack.

  Walt carried Annalise’s bag containing her printouts of the case files. The
ir luggage was apparently on its way to a nearby hotel, where they would be staying while they were guests of the Hungary admiral.

  Jakob figured they might be “guests” until the admiral was satisfied. That could take a while if they couldn’t find a way to answer Nikolett’s questions without betraying Eric.

  None of them spoke as Vadisk led them up the stairs, then down a wide corridor. They passed several open doors, revealing a couple of conference rooms and what looked like a break room, complete with a refrigerator, microwave, coffeepot, table, and chairs. Vadisk paused outside that room.

  “Would you like some coffee or perhaps a bottle of water?” he asked.

  “No, thank you,” Annalise said as Jakob and Walt shook their heads.

  Vadisk continued down the hall, stopping in front of a closed door. He knocked.

  “Belép,” a female voice called out.

  They all stepped inside and Jakob took in the slight blonde woman sitting behind the desk. The office was large, with three big windows that let in lots of natural light. In addition to the desk, there was a rectangular table with six leather chairs off to one side and a huge, fully loaded bookshelf against one wall.

  The woman rose and regarded them coolly. “Hello, I’m Nyx Kata.” Jakob noticed the long white scar that bisected her cheek from eye to jaw. He’d heard the story about how she’d nearly lost her life at the hands of a brutal killer, Petro’s other pet serial killer, Ciril.

  Vadisk introduced each of them in turn. “Vice Admiral, allow me to present Dr. Annalise Fischer, Ritter Jakob Bauer, and Dr. Walt Hayden from America.”

  “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your sister, Sylvia,” Nyx said to Walt. “Her husband Hugo and I are close friends. I’m quite a fan of her poetry.”

  Walt grinned. “Sylvia is the best of us and incredibly talented,” he said sincerely, though Jakob found it hard to believe anyone could be better than Walt.

  Before they could say more, the door opened and Nikolett entered with two men, the first of whom held his hand out to Annalise.

  “I’m happy to make your acquaintance, Dr. Fischer. It is good to see you safe and sound after your ordeal yesterday.”

  Jakob recognized the man’s voice from the car phone. “Dimitri. I want to thank you for your help.”

  “Dimitri,” Walt said, shaking the man’s hand. “Nice to have a face to go with the voice.”

  Annalise looked at Jakob curiously, so he explained. “Dimitri was instrumental in helping us find you.”

  She smiled at Dimitri. “Thank you, truly, and please, call me Annalise.”

  Dimitri nodded his head.

  “And this,” Nyx said, pointing to the other man, “is my husband, Grigoris Violaris.”

  Grigoris shook Jakob’s and Walt’s hands.

  Jakob cleared his throat and forced himself to say something rather than make do with the silent nod. “It is good to meet you, chorbajis.”

  Grigoris smiled. “I’m neither janissary nor chorbajis any longer, but thank you.”

  The upheaval in Hungary had affected not only that territory, but others. When Nikolett pulled Nyx in to be vice admiral, Grigoris had come with her, relinquishing his position as leader of the janissaries—the Ottoman territory knights. Security minister Dimitri and his trinity, which included the former leader of the Spartan Guard, Mateo, had moved here from England. Petro had left Hungary in shambles, and Nikolett had pulled in the best to help her revive the territory.

  “You need medical attention,” Nyx said, turning to Annalise and Walt. “I’ve had a portable X-ray machine set up in one of the conference rooms down the hall.”

  “Thank you,” Walt said. “I’m fairly sure she’s okay, but based on the bruise, there could be a stable closed fracture to the humerus.” He gestured to her arm, which was in a simple sling they’d bought at a pharmacy on the way to the helicopter.

  Nyx studied Annalise’s face. “Are you in pain?”

  “Oh no,” Annalise interjected. “I’m fine. Walt has given me medicine for the pain and I’m certain nothing is broken.”

  Nikolett gestured toward the long table. “Good, because I’d like to begin. However, if you find yourself in pain, we can get you enough drugs to allow you to function.”

  Grigoris shook his head and walked up to his wife, placing a hand on her back. Being in the same room as Nyx and Nikolett was giving Jakob the twitchy feeling he got when in the presence of powerful, dangerous people. Vadisk and Dimitri weren’t exactly non-threatening, but they were more of a physical threat.

  Now, as in the hotel, Vadisk took his place beside the closed door to Nyx’s office, while the rest of them claimed chairs at the table. Jakob didn’t like having Vadisk doing a job he would prefer to be doing himself, but he had no authority here. Another thing that was making him twitchy.

  Nikolett took a spot at the head of the table, the other end occupied by Nyx. Dimitri and Jakob sat together on one side, facing Annalise and Walt. Grigoris had rolled Nyx’s office chair over to sit next to and slightly behind his wife.

  “Walt, can you set up my laptop?” Annalise asked.

  “Do we need a whiteboard?” Nyx asked, sounding almost hopeful.

  Annalise blinked. “No, but do you have a projector?”

  For the first time, Nyx grinned. “I like visual aids.”

  Grigoris helped Nyx set up a small projector on the tabletop, then lifted a painting down off the wall to give them a wide white surface.

  Annalise was working one-handed—Walt grumbled at her each time she tried to slide her arm out of the sling—so Jakob got up and acted as her assistant. He knew how she worked, what she would need. In a way, he could imagine he was helping her prepare for a lecture.

  Finally, Annalise tapped the trackpad and projected on the wall was a window showing two files. One titled “Decapitation,” the other “Dismemberment.”

  Grigoris murmured something in Greek, Dimitri stiffened, and Nikolett sat forward, all their attention on the screen.

  Nyx had gone perfectly still.

  Annalise began. “I was asked to consult on the profile of a possible serial killer.”

  “By whom?” Nyx turned dark eyes to Annalise.

  Jakob tensed, the feeling that he was amongst dangerous people increasing. Annalise ignored the question.

  “As you can see, the potential uniting factor is that the bodies are not left intact. From that broad categorization, there are two subcategories, each with possible different pathologies.”

  Annalise clicked open the decapitation file, and a list of subfolders appeared, each bearing the name of a victim. Annalise clicked on the folder labeled Josephine O’Connor.

  Nyx jumped to her feet, her chair toppling backwards. Her face was stark. Pale. “Josephine.”

  Annalise looked over. “Oh, I’m sorry, I should have warned you that you might know of some of the victims.”

  “Know of?” Nyx snarled.

  Grigoris reached over and closed the laptop.

  The projection cut off.

  “We don’t…didn’t…just know her,” Grigoris said softly. “She was our wife.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Annalise stared at Grigoris and Nyx, utterly horrified by what she’d just done. A wave of nausea passed through her.

  Josephine had been their third? Nothing in the file the fleet admiral had given her mentioned that Josephine was married. She’d thought, given his unyielding determination to bring the killer to justice, that perhaps she and the fleet admiral had been lovers.

  Nyx closed her eyes for a moment, then put a hand on her husband’s arm. When she opened her eyes, she stared straight ahead and sank down into her chair, which Grigoris had righted.

  “She would have been our third,” Nyx said softly. “If she hadn’t been murdered. But most importantly, she was my friend. I felt her death keenly.”

  Nikolett was looking at Nyx with such compassion that it softened the admiral, who struck Annalise as the sort to t
ake no prisoners. Of course, at the same time, Nikolett was the kind of woman who wouldn’t have broken, wouldn’t have gone into hiding from a stalker. She would have stood her ground in the middle of the street and dared the villain to come for her, especially if, by doing so, she was protecting someone else.

  Annalise glanced at Walt, then Jakob. They each smiled back at her, and she tried to let their kindness ease her guilt over upsetting Nyx.

  “I’m so sorry,” Annalise said quietly. “I didn’t know.”

  “Please continue,” Nyx said.

  Annalise glanced at Grigoris, unwilling to traumatize Nyx any further. He was looking at his wife, but after only a moment, he nodded.

  Annalise opened the lid of her laptop, her mental notes already reshuffled to approach this from a different direction.

  “I am attempting to identify murders that may have been committed by the same person who killed Josephine.”

  “Petro murdered her,” Nyx said softly. “Even if he didn’t actually cut off her head, he was the killer.”

  Annalise nodded, but she was going to approach this as if she were giving a profile to a roomful of officers, all of whom usually had their own theories or assumptions. She had learned during briefings such as this that she had to ignore their comments, keep calm, and speak with authority.

  “Our primary victim’s head is the only part of the body recovered to date.” She tapped her computer, bringing up Josephine’s autopsy report. “I’d like to warn you all there will be graphic photos of bodies in this briefing. If you’d like me to warn you before showing one of those photos so you can look away, please let me know now.”

  She waited, but no one said anything.

  Annalise nodded and pulled up the screen showing the original files Eric had given her. “We started with these lists. As you can see, the victims were divided broadly into those who were just decapitated, and those who were dismembered, either with or without decapitation.”