Debase

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Funny.” He sneered. “Because the way I see it, they can’t let you live. Regardless of who you’ve been whoring yourself out to.”

  Logical thought crashed through the window of my brain as I shoved her back against Chase and aimed for the guy who’d called her a whore.

  I opened fire.

  I didn’t stop.

  I shot every single one of them in the head.

  And then tossed my gun on the table as I let out a rough exhale. “Rot in Hell.”

  My chest was heaving, my blood boiling as I stared at their dead bodies.

  It was out of character.

  I knew that.

  The Italians knew that.

  I didn’t just shoot.

  I tortured.

  I toyed.

  I played.

  And then I struck.

  Not today. Not with them.

  I’d shot without thinking.

  In all my life, I’d taken special care in playing indifferent, not showing my tells, appearing unaffected by everyone and everything.

  And when it mattered most.

  I laid all my cards out on the table and pointed to my only weakness.

  A De Lange.

  Alice De Lange.

  Six thirty-two.

  My heart.

  My soul.

  I’d just damned her to Hell.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Alice

  I’D NEVER SEEN him so angry.

  So ruthless.

  Cold-blooded.

  That was the same man who’d whispered my name, who’d held me close, the same man who’d shed a tear for me.

  That man had just massacred six of my family members.

  Because they insulted him.

  And tried to take me.

  It hit me then, why he was so convinced there was no way out, but death. My own family would have used me against him. They would have done whatever it took to stay alive.

  The De Langes were desperate enough.

  And a De Lange alive was a dangerous thing.

  It threatened everyone.

  I hung my head and then put a hand on Andrei’s tense shoulder. “Ubei menya.”

  “No,” he clipped.

  “Yes.”

  “Alice…” His voice shook.

  I leaned up on my tiptoes and brushed a kiss across his cheek. “I don’t want it to hurt too long.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut.

  And then someone was grabbing me from behind. My body trembled as I looked over my shoulder.

  Chase.

  His face was set in stone as he pulled my hands behind my back and shoved me to my knees.

  “Not here!” Andrei barked. “Not in the club.”

  Oh God, he didn’t mean it right? He didn’t mean to take me to that place? Where nightmares were born? Where dreams died?

  Chase pulled me to my feet.

  Andrei’s eyes flashed as he grabbed his gun and led the way, the only funeral procession I would get would be before my death as the most powerful men in the Italian mafia, and the monster I loved, led me to the cement room.

  I swallowed bile as the huge door clicked open. Chase shoved me down the cement stairs and then I was standing in front of all the windows. I imagined all the women who had died there, who had had their throats slit in front of men who paid to see it.

  Who were so aroused by it that they went and paid for a girl and a room.

  I was going to be sick.

  This was real life.

  This wasn’t a fantasy.

  He’d warned me.

  He’d given me a number, not a name.

  I was Alice De Lange. Six-thirty-two. And I was going to be sacrificed because people can’t choose their blood.

  And mine was damned.

  All of the men, including the older ones I didn’t recognize, stood before me as Chase once again shoved me to my knees.

  Andrei pressed his gun to my forehead.

  I expected it to be hot from all the shooting.

  It felt cold.

  Lifeless.

  “You’re so warm…” he’d whispered.

  Tears stung my eyes and fell down my cheeks.

  “Don’t move.” Chase shoved me a bit. Footsteps echoed as he walked away and then returned and handed a long black whip to Andrei.

  Andrei glared at him. “I don’t really have time to teach you how to use this, Chase.”

  “I don’t need a lesson since I’m not going to be the one using it. Blood must be spilled…” He looked over at me. “So fucking spill it.”

  I hated him.

  I hated all of them.

  I hated that Andrei was going to do this, I hated that I needed him to.

  Most of all, I hated that the Andrei I knew and loved would not come back from this.

  What was left of his innocence, I would take with me to the grave.

  And in that moment, I hated myself more, for being born a De Lange, for wanting him as much as I did.

  For loving him despite the warnings not to.

  He raised the whip.

  I saw the hesitation.

  And then Chase spit out a curse and pulled me to my feet, only to throw me down against the concrete as he pulled out a knife and held the tip beneath my chin. “Should I bleed you dry while he watches? Is that preferable, Andrei?”

  I could feel Andrei’s anger pulsing around us as Chase very delicately pressed the tip of the knife into my chin.

  I was afraid to move as tears streamed down my face.

  It stung and then it burned as he pulled it away. “I could carve her a new face, Drei. Now raise the whip.”

  Chase picked me up with both of his hands, my feet dangled. He was a strong man; it wasn’t lost on me that he could break me in half if he wanted.

  He could have scarred my entire face, could have broken my jaw. Instead, he gave warnings and drew small amounts of blood. If that’s how they would torture me, I’d rather die.

  His eyes flashed as he stared down at me. Andrei couldn’t see our faces at this angle. Chase didn’t blink. “You always like to play with fire?”

  “You always stab women?”

  His lips twitched and then he was hauling me back to my feet and shoving me in front of Andrei. “Do it, or one of us will.”

  The guys’ faces were all masks of indifference, like they were thinking about their next meal, or the last soccer game they watched.

  Did anybody even care?

  And then I remembered.

  Blood.

  The mafia was blood.

  Spilling it was as natural as breathing.

  I spread my arms wide and locked eyes with Andrei. “Do it.”

  He raised the whip.

  And I was no longer Alice.

  I was six thirty-two.

  And it was my sacrifice to make.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Andrei

  BLOOD AND DIRT caked her face.

  Chase had done that.

  One day I would murder him for it.

  I would smile.

  I still grabbed the whip, I imagined the usual audience watching, waiting as I clenched it between my hands.

  It came down hard on her snowy white skin. It ripped into her flesh and pulled it from her body — and I could almost smell their arousal even though nobody was in the rooms, nobody would bid on a corpse. A corpse I created.

  Hell was waiting for me.

  But I still saw heaven in her eyes.

  In her beautiful blue eyes.

  I didn’t deserve her trust.

  Or her sacrifice.

  Her arms were shaking as blood streaked down them.

  Her eyes begged me for life.

  Even when she knew, even when I told her again and again — all I had to offer was death.

  She’d committed the ultimate sin.

  Trusting me. Loving me.

  And I’d embraced that same sin and called it my own as I made her mine. Her only mistake was co
ming back, was thinking that my heart would choose her over blood, over loyalty.

  I slammed the whip down on her right thigh.

  I hated myself with each hit.

  Her blood was too precious to spill.

  I was spilling it.

  When would it be enough?

  She cried out my name.

  And I remembered.

  I remembered then.

  There was once a time where my name fell from her lips in ecstasy in wonder — in love.

  But she didn’t know — I wasn’t capable of it.

  This was my legacy.

  This was my destiny.

  A tear slid down her cheek, falling onto the rivers of blood streaming down the concrete.

  Soon the blood would be gone.

  The concrete clean.

  And her life would be sacrificed.

  Not by my hand.

  But hers.

  Because that was the deal wasn’t it?

  “Kill me,” she’d whispered between kisses.

  “Yes,” I agreed as I tasted her sweet sin for the last time. “I will kill you.”

  Her thank you fell on deaf ears.

  So, I raised the whip again while she smiled.

  It was the smile that shocked me to my core.

  The way she directed it at me like I was deserving when I was her killer, her monster, her captor.

  Flashes of our time together filled my mind until I was shaking with fury at my own predicament.

  I dropped the whip to the ground and grabbed my gun. Only this time I pointed it at my own temple.

  The guys all took a step forward. “What the hell are you doing?” Chase said in a lethal tone.

  “You want blood?” I pounded my chest with my left hand. “Then take mine! Sinacore and Petrov, the last of the line, is that fucking royal blood good enough for you to let her go?”

  Chase held out his hand to me. “Andrei, think about this—”

  “IS IT ENOUGH BLOOD!” I spat.

  “Don’t do this,” Alice whispered, her words were laced with pain, “Andrei, don’t, please… please!”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Capo.” I opened them and locked eyes with Tex. “Is it enough blood?”

  Tex didn’t answer right away.

  Dante and Nixon pulled out their guns like they were going to shoot me in order to stop me.

  “It’s going to happen anyway,” I confessed to no one in particular. “It’s been happening every birthday, I point the gun right about here.” I rubbed it against my temple and laughed bitterly. “And I pull the trigger. It never goes off, but it will now. I know it will now, because for the first time in my pathetic life, I have someone, something I want to live for. Poetic, that I would die for her instead.”

  I let out a roar and pulled the trigger just as searing pain hit me in the thigh. My gun went off, I felt a sting across my right shoulder as I fell to the ground.

  Suddenly Alice was by my side, our blood creating a river of sin between us.

  “Andrei!” Her tears streaked down her face, landing on my chest. With a groan, I got to my feet and charged toward Chase.

  “Son of a bitch.” Chase shoved me away. I was losing blood fast. “You’re welcome for not letting you kill yourself!”

  “You. Can’t. Have. Her!” I charged him again, landing a few blows to his jaw before strong arms pulled me off him.

  Blood poured from his nose. “I motion for Andrei to take her punishment. If he lives through the night,” he eyed Nikolai, “without assistance from Doctor Death over there… then he can have her.”

  “I second.” Dante raised his hand.

  “Third.” Nixon nodded.

  Slowly, the entire room agreed.

  I hung my head as the room spun.

  Chase looked down at the blood on the cement. “It was never about enough blood being spilled, Andrei. It’s about being willing to spill it all for someone you love. She’s willing to die for you, and you nearly died trying to save her. I think, after tonight, you’ll understand.”

  “Besides…” Phoenix finally spoke up. Ah good, he was the one holding me in place. That’s why my body hurt; he didn’t have to stretch my arms behind my back so hard. “Chase really doesn’t have a leg to stand on since he’s with Luc.”

  “Fuck you.” Chase shook his head.

  “I call an official commission,” Tex piped up. “Andrei better live, because the Sinacores are in this now. It’s not just De Lange blood that has been spilled.”

  Louis moved to my side and then he pressed his hand to my bloody shoulder. “It is said that a drop of blood from a Sinacore has enough good luck to last you a lifetime.”

  I shuddered as more blood exited my body. “I’m shocked it didn’t work.”

  Louis smiled. “On the contrary. You tried to shoot yourself for how many years? And the bullet never pierced skin. I would say it worked quite well.” He sighed. “We’ll talk later.”

  I met Alice’s tear-filled gaze.

  She took a step toward me.

  Chase held her back.

  Still murdering him later.

  I winced. It felt like the bullet in my thigh had met bone.

  “Lock him in here,” Tex barked and then glanced over at Alice. “No visitors.”

  She gave him one nod and then both Nixon and Chase were taking her away from me.

  It wasn’t until she was out of the room that I noticed Tex, Phoenix, Sergio, and Dante had stayed.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  “You lied to the family,” Tex said plainly. “So, each of us will deal you with a death blow. It might be best to just let me go first so you pass out.”

  “Where’s the fun in hitting a limp body?” Dante cracked his knuckles.

  I snorted. “Been waiting to hit me where I don’t hit you back, hmm?”

  “Been waiting at least a year to knock your teeth out.” Dante grinned. “Then maybe after that, we can be friends.”

  “Cool, I’ll put you down for hair braiding at four,” Tex mocked.

  Phoenix stepped up first. “I’m glad you did the right thing.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m thinking right now as you pull out a dagger that looks like it has souls still attached to it.”

  He winked and then stabbed it directly into my other thigh. “I think I hit bone.”

  I wheezed out a curse. “Yup.”

  Phoenix jerked it free as I tumbled to the ground just in time to look up and see Tex looming over me.

  His fist connected with my jaw.

  Something cracked in my mouth.

  I spit out a bloody tooth and moaned.

  Sergio was next.

  He pulled me to my feet and then managed to dislocate my left arm as it dangled at my side.

  And finally, Dante.

  We had bad blood between us.

  We hadn’t discussed it.

  There was no need for apologies then.

  No need for apologies now.

  “You gonna chop of my dick?”

  He grinned. “Not when you just learned how to use it, that’s not playing fair.”

  “Hilarious.”

  He pulled out two knives and shoved one directly into the shoulder with the bullet “El says hi by the way.”

  I screamed in pain.

  El was his wife.

  El, I liked.

  It was Dante I was having a hard time with.

  He twisted the knife at the same time he ran the tip of the blade along my right arm, digging up flesh as he carved. “I was Picasso in another life.”

  Blood drenched my shirt.

  Pain swallowed me whole as dark dots started to fill my vision.

  And then.

  The nightmares came.

  They came full force.

  And there was nothing I could do to stop them.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Alice

  MY CLOTHES WERE soaked with blood.

  My teeth where chattering f
rom shock.

  And all I wanted to do was run back into the room of nightmares and hold him close.

  Chase pulled off his shirt and handed it to me. “Put this on, yours looks like you survived an animal sacrifice only to get lost at a vampire fair.”

  How could he joke at a time like this?

  “I prefer my shirt to yours,” I spat.

  He grinned. “You know I could have broken your jaw.”

  It’s like he read my mind. I shifted on my feet. “Regretting that you didn’t?”

  He very gently reached forward and cupped my face. “Andrei is a proud man, he’s also an idiot when it comes to punishing himself, and since I know exactly what that’s like, I did him a favor the way he did me a favor.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “He warned her away from me. He did exactly what I would have done in his position. She didn’t listen. And his presence alone made me want to act. It takes an act of God for most of us to accept love — and Andrei needed exactly that.”

  Next to me, Nixon cleared his throat. “He’s not comparing himself to God, because that would be idiotic. What he’s saying is we could have been harder on him.”

  “He could die.” I said it slowly so they would understand.

  Nixon winked. “He won’t die. He’ll be pissed, and he’ll probably need a lot of blood but we have Nikolai here. He’ll stay the night.”

  “If he’s staying, I’m staying too.” Without thinking, I relented, and peeled off my shirt and put on Chase’s.

  Chase jerked his attention to the wall while Nixon looked down, grinning, Nikolai turned completely around while Ax examined his nails.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “But Chase was right, I was gross.”

  “At least it’s lucky blood,” Chase said loud enough for the other family to laugh and shake their heads, just as Nikolai walked over and started assessing the damage to my skin. Before I knew what was happening I was bandaged up and watching as the guys continued to act like nothing was wrong.

  How was this normal?

  It wasn’t.

  And yet… it was.

  “Can we watch him through one of the private rooms?” I asked no one in general as the door once again opened.

  I heard nothing.