The beast inside sniffed and howled. Something was seriously fucking wrong.
The conclusion kept darting out of reach. I slapped myself in the head, trying to get my brain into some sense of working order. The migraine curled around my neurons, making me dumb as a piece of concrete.
I inhaled deep, trying to calm my crazy pulse. The scent of Tess swam in my pounding head, making my heart thud and cock twitch.
And that’s when it fucking hit me.
My entire body felt as if knives dragged along my skin, flaying me alive. The world screeched to a halt.
“Shit.” Tess!
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Frederick asked, eyes flying around the lift, looking for some unseen threat.
The rush of panic shoved the migraine away as it darted down my spine. Rage followed hot behind, filling me like a cannon. They fucking dared touch her! My body coiled with the need to attack, to turn animalistic and rip apart anyone who touched my woman.
I sniffed again, dragging the horrible stench of cigarettes and grease into my lungs.
Must and body odour.
Men.
Something malicious wrapped around my stomach, dragging images of every bastard I’d dealt with in the trafficking industry. I didn’t understand how I recognised the stench, but I knew.
Evil had been in this lift. With Tess.
I needed out of this metal box that travelled way far too slow. I needed to scale the building like King Kong and smash every last asshole into pulp.
Snarling, I punched the mirrored wall so hard it shattered. Cracks radiated from my fist, splintering into tiny pieces and tinkling to the floor.
“Mercer, wh—”
The elevator doors opened, and I bolted.
I slammed my shoulder into the metal door and gulped in a breath as I stumbled and fell to my knee. The sun was a dagger, a fucking bazooka to my head with its brightness. My vision turned completely white as I battled to stay lucid.
Gritting my teeth, I forced my body to obey and half-lumbered, half-ran across the minefield of sunlight. Birds took wing, squawking at my interruption.
With my heart in my throat, I exploded into my office.
“Mercer! Tell me what the hell is going on! You’re fucking scaring me.” Frederick chased after me. I didn’t waste my breath answering. I couldn’t afford to waste any part of my rapidly failing body.
I had to know Tess was here. Safe. Protected.
It’s all in my mind. It’s a horrid daydream. My brain is playing tricks. It’s not real.
But the stench was worse here, the carpet wet with large puddles. Shit.
The energy of the office wasn’t tranquil anymore, it was tainted. Brittle and tense, it lurked with a nasty undercurrent: something black and hellishly cold—evil and putrid.
The migraine throbbed around my skull, squeezing my thoughts in a never-ending vice. I sensed death and unhappiness. Tess’s strength and pureness were nowhere to be found. Some chasm that had been full before was now empty and dark.
Don’t be such a fucking drama queen.
I stomped on the fear, crushing it. The stink of cigarettes permeated the lounge, guiding me down the corridor and into the spare bedroom.
I followed the reek, but retraced my steps to unlock my HK P2000 pistol from the sideboard. Frederick skidded into the office, gawking around like a maniac. Considering he was supposed to be the calm one of our duo, he looked wired and ready to kill.
“Do you think I should take that?” He eyed the gun in my unsteady hand. My vision wavered in and out. One moment full colour, the next black and white. He had a point, but screw my head. Screw my shitty eyesight. I was in charge of Tess’s safety; I’d use the fucking gun.
Ignoring him, I crouched and moved silently down the corridor. I’d never been so thankful for being deathly silent on my feet before.
The urge to shoot some fucktard who dared breach my space and take what was mine consumed me. The beast inside roared and raged, ready to go nuclear with fury.
I swung my arm wide, finger pressing the trigger as I entered the bedroom.
Nothing.
The bed was untouched, the room perfect as I left it.
Frederick fell back, keeping close to me with his legs bent, ready to fight at a moment’s notice. If I had to have anyone at my back, it was him. He looked like a pussy, but he fought with the best of them.
Frederick was my wingman, my confidant, and ally, but he didn’t have the same blackness in his soul, or the blurred lines of right and wrong.
“Tess, où es tu?” Where are you? I whisper-growled, inching into the walk-in wardrobe.
A single empty hanger lay on the floor.
My heart exploded through my ribs; my headache stole my vision, leaving me completely blind for a second.
I grabbed hold of the shelf holding my shoes, trying to stabilize myself and bring my heart rate into submission.
Frederick didn’t say a word while I suffered and blinked, coaxing my eyesight to return.
Finally, a scramble of images came back to me, and I motioned for him to have my back as I moved toward the bathroom.
On the carpet, leading the way like a sinister path, were droplets of water. Staining the beige carpet a darker brown. It started off as a trickle, until splashes grew bigger and drenched the carpet outside the bathroom door.
Gulping back nausea and violence, I nudged open the door with my toe and charged in, waving the pistol into every corner.
Only once I knew the room was clear did I let myself take in the scene of my worst fucking nightmare.
“Q, don’t move. I’ll call the police.”
I stood in a puddle, staring at a bath full of water and no Tess. The towel rail dangled from the wall, and Tess’s clothes from that morning were on a chair.
The migraine swelled to epic proportions. I stumbled against the wall, shaking off the blackness, the cloak of unconsciousness. I wouldn’t let a weakness stop me from understanding.
Slapping myself, I managed to shake away the stupor long enough to move forward and dip my fingers into the water.
Lukewarm.
Tess had taken a bath like I told her, and while I sat in a meeting she suffered a fucking nightmare.
My broken eyes found Frederick’s. “How did they get up here, Roux? What happened to the goddamn security cameras and guards?” My heart beat thickly, sending more pressure to my skull.
I wobbled, but righted myself before Frederick could help. I didn’t want his help. I wasn’t an invalid! I was a bastard of an idiot for thinking Tess was safe.
How the hell did the motherfuckers find me? How did they manage to capture Tess right from under my nose!
I sagged against the wall as the migraine seized control. The mirrored tiles reflected a man with demons snarling at his heels and his world imploding around him.
“I don’t know. But I’ll find out. We’ll get her back, man,” Frederick said, his voice low. He left the bathroom, leaving me with horrible images: images of Tess beaten, raped, and sold. Ruined, and broken. Gone.
I couldn’t let that happen. Disregarding the fact I could barely see, I lurched out the bathroom and collided with Frederick, who’d stooped to pick up a piece of paper from the floor.
I snatched it off him, trying to read the scrawl, but the writing turned into insects on the page, scurrying away from understanding.
“Q. You really need to lie down. You’ll have a stroke at the rate you’re going.”
I snarled, “Don’t tell me to fucking calm down. A woman who was supposed to be in my protection has been taken. A woman who has lived through so much already has been snatched from my very fucking arms, and I failed her! So don’t tell me to fucking calm down until I find her and make the bastards pay.”
Shoving the note back under his nose, I demanded, “Read.”
Frederick took the paper, swallowing hard.
“Deal’s off, Mercer.”
My heart seized, and the
room warped, squeezing in on me, crushing me.
Something smashed free inside, tearing at every bar, every lock I’d ever created. The last few days I’d tried desperately hard to tame myself. Brainwash myself into being a better man for Tess, but with those three words, I shrugged off the falseness that I could never be. I growled and welcomed the feralness, the raging psychotic temper.
The beast sprung free, and I breathed hard. This was who I was. A man who craved blood. A man who laughed when breaking a bone, and didn’t flinch when shooting a bullet into a rapist.
Frederick continued. I didn’t want to hear anymore.
“I’ve taken back what was mine and sold for a better deal.
Fuck you.
Gerald Dubolazov.”
Gerald? In my moment of migraine weakness, I couldn’t remember which cockroach he was.
Frederick smoothed the crinkled paper, muttering, “The seal is the Red Wolverine.”
I spun and punched the wall so hard my fist disappeared through the drywall. I wished it was someone’s head.
That fucking Russian bastard. Dubolazov. The man who practically owned all of Russia. The Russian president thought he ruled, the mafia thought they controlled, but they were in the pockets of one man: Gerald Dubolazov, the king of everything dirty and wrong.
“Merde!”
Stalking back into the bathroom, I searched for clues. Anything that might shed light on how they found Tess and where they took her. The window of time to get her back was terrifyingly small.
Blonde strands littered the floor, and I clenched my jaw. Just the thought of someone hurting Tess made me see litres of blood and acres of fucking carnage.
In my mind the sound of a huge, ominous clock began to sound. Tick, tick, ticking the seconds away, marking the moments Tess’s life hung in the balance. I had to find her before it was too late.
Something crunched under my shoe, and I bent to investigate. The moment I set eyes on it, my migraine left the realm of excruciating and amplified into kill-worthy.
I toppled sideways as Frederick appeared over my shoulder. “Fuck me, that isn’t good.”
He could say that again.
The evidence of what happened to Tess enraged the beast, clawing at my mind. I forgot everything but the need to plunge my hands deep into the kidnappers’ chests and rip out their fucking hearts.
I want blood. I want corpses. I want to dance on unmarked graves for this. I wouldn’t rest until every single person involved died a slow and bone-shrivelling death.
My hand closed tight around the object of my rage, and I made an oath. I would find Tess, I would save her, and I would kill every last son of a bitch who took her.
The gentle clink of breaking glass sounded over my harsh breathing. The broken syringe sliced my palm, and one lonely drop of blood landed into a puddle of water.
The same syringe that drugged Tess and stole her away from me.
My esclave—so strong and fierce and sexually feral—was gone.
Her cage wasn’t me anymore.
It was them.
Chapter Eight
Tess
Don’t show me mercy, don’t cut me loose, I need you to tighten that noose.
“I told them to take you, esclave.
“Did you honestly think I could want you?
“You aren’t enough for me. I was kidding myself, and it’s time to end this. Time you went to an owner who wants you.”
Tears rained down my cheeks as I huddled on the floor by Q’s feet. He stood proud and regal, entirely closed off and robotic. No cares, no feelings, no love or need in his eyes.
Just pure, calculated indifference.
“You don’t mean that. You don’t. I know you, Q. I know you—” I sucked in a huge breath, sobbing at his rejection.
“It’s done. You’re dead to me.” He spun on his heel and prowled to the door. With a parting glance, he sneered, “Don’t let the wolverines shred you alive.”
The door slammed, and I was left in a pit with twigs and mud facing three pacing, starving wolverines. Looking half-wolf, half-badger, and full demon spawn, they slobbered and stalked, their yellow eyes glowing with the thought of an easy dinner.
“Q!” I screamed, scrambling backward. The wolverines twisted into dinosaur size, all of them with barcodes stencilled across their furry chests. They growled and blood spewed from their mouths, creating a river of red, lapping at my feet.
I’m in hell. I’m dead, and this is my penance.
“Stop screaming, puta. For fuck’s sake, trying to sleep here.” Something sharp kicked my thigh, and my gritty, heavy eyes opened.
I tried to sit up, but my body no longer belonged to me. It belonged to the chemicals blocking my brainwaves. It succumbed to the sweet fog, stealing my consciousness, and evoking horror-filled nightmares.
Giving up the fight to corral my limbs into working order, I lay back. My vision was glassy, and the cracked mouldy ceiling above gaped wide and spoke in slow motion. No words. No sounds. Just speaking silently with its weird ceiling teeth.
Someone poked me in the cheek; I couldn’t do anything to stop him. He laughed. “Fuck, you’re high.”
The voice turned my heart to lead, and I fought harder to move, to get far away, but every part of my body was weighed down by whatever they’d injected into me.
Hot, cold, numbness, sensitivity. I couldn’t distinguish anything anymore.
Fingers landed on my thigh, squeezing hard. “There, there. You’ll get used to it soon. It’s a fucking trip when you let the drugs take over.” Leather Jacket loomed above me, licking his foul lips. “You wait till we get where we’re going. I’ll make you feel real good.” He ducked and dragged his foul tongue up my neck.
I rattled with grotesqueness. Unable to move from the slime, my eyes gushed with tears. They cascaded down my cheeks, filling the shell of my ear with salty liquid. I wanted to tell him to leave me the hell alone, but my tongue was bound in lethargy.
“Dammit, Ignacio. You were told not to touch her until we arrived.”
Leather Jacket reared back, wiping his mouth with a sneer. “I didn’t touch her.” He gave me a wink. “I licked her. And I’ll be fucking her too before the week is out.”
My heart died and rotted in my chest. This was it then. My life was over. I’d never see Q again. Never be free. My mind was shackled with chemicals; my body would become a plaything until I died of some horrible malady.
“Crap, turn her neck. I forgot to deactivate it,” Jagged Scar said.
Leather Jacket exploded into abusive Spanish, ranting and raving at him.
I tuned him out. Wishing my other senses, hearing, and eyesight would abandon me, too. Living as a blind, deaf mute would be better than living through the awfulness when Leather Jacket finally raped me.
My mind flew back to another kidnapping—being owned by Q. He’d slowly turned my eyesight, hearing, and senses against me, but he did it in a way that I accepted, wanted.
I tried to conjure Q, to find some sense of peace even while tears poured from my eyes.
Harsh fingers twisted my neck to the side, and the same iPhone-looking contraption from when I was first tagged, waved over my throat before emitting a painful shrill.
Once again, I tried to shift, to wriggle away from his grip, but nothing worked. Every command fell on fogged receptors, rendering me a vegetable.
“It’s done. If they thought to chase her by the tracking number we provided, they won’t have any luck now.”
The first jolt of life came into my body at the thought of Q coming for me. He’d never rest until he found me. I knew that in my soul. Q had his downfalls, but saving those who needed saving wasn’t one of them.
Please find me. Before it’s too late.
“Shit, man, they could’ve been tracking us for two days.” Leather Jacket glared at Jagged Scar. “That was your fucking job to make sure it was taken care of. The Wolverine is gonna be beyond pissed if we fuck this up. You heard
what he told the boss.” He cuffed him around the ear, and something clattered to the floor. “You incompetent little worm; I’ll show you how to make sure that bastard doesn’t sniff her down.”
The sound of a switchblade snapping open sent panic overriding the fog of narcotics. I tensed as Leather Jacket sat beside me and grabbed my throat. He put the knife tip against my skin. His black eyes burrowed into mine. “Gonna cut you, bitch.”
I whimpered—it was the best I could do. Screaming required muscles that were no longer in my control.
“What the fuck? Don’t, you idiot.” Jagged Scar grabbed the knife and tore it from Leather Jacket’s grip before he could stab me. “I already deactivated it! It needs to stay in so we can reboot when she’s sold again.” Jagged Scar huffed, rolling his eyes. “Fucking moron.”
Leather Jacket roared upright and decked Jagged Scar in the chest. “What did you just call me?”
My heart raced faster as the two psychotic kidnappers wrestled and cursed. If they couldn’t work together without killing each other, there was no hope for me.
I closed my eyes, ignoring the raging argument. My forehead furrowed as I coaxed my fingers to move, straining to override whatever they’d pumped into me.
Nothing happened. The bizarre feeling of being untethered from my body caused more panic to race.
I needed to look around, to figure out where I was. I needed to keep track of everything Leather Jacket and Jagged Scar said so I could spy an opportunity to run. But all I could do was float in a sea of sickness, staring at a cracked talking ceiling.
I’m weak. I’m terrified.
The thought of what would happen almost caused me to throw up.
Leather Jacket appeared in my vision again, smiling with his disgusting teeth and pockmarked skin. “Not long now. I’ve arranged a special welcome-home party just for you.”
Images of rapists and murderers filled me with dread. Oh God, I don’t want to survive.
I mentally slapped myself for the thought. I was stronger than that. I would eventually be coherent enough to fight back. My body betrayed me and my mind was slush, but I had to stay focused and ready to run. Run back to Q and watch him detach these bastards limb from limb. My hand twitched into a fist on its own accord, and a flare of pride filled me. I overrode the drugs.
Monsters in the Dark Page 45