Madeleine Abducted

by M. S. Willis

  Maddy picked up her fork, began to scoop of a portion of the rice and chicken on her plate, but placed it down again, turning in her seat to look at Xander. “You don’t have to stand there, lording over me. I won’t run. After the events of the afternoon, I have a feeling there are far more evil men on the other side of those doors.”

  Xander’s amused expression darkened at her words. Thoughtfully, he gazed at her for several moments before responding. “Don’t mistake your Master’s kindness for a weak spirit. He has killed more men than you’ve probably ever known in your young life. There are different types of evil in this world, Cricket. Some, more openly displayed than others.”

  Her eyes widened at his statement; wordlessly, she turned back into her seat, kept her eyes trained on the food before her. He didn’t like scaring her, but she couldn’t be allowed to believe weakness existed within the man to whom she now belonged. Weighted silence hovered over them as Xander maintained his position of sentinel behind her, waiting until she’d had her fill of the food and drink on the table. When she pushed the plate aside, he stepped forward, took it from her and moved to place it in the sink. Moving back beside her, he motioned for her to go to the living room to sit quietly on the couch.

  Maddy complied without hesitation. Finding comfort in the clothes that covered her body, she worried that any hint of rebellion would leave her naked and cold without the luxury of cloth covering her skin. Her eyes followed the broad and heavily muscled expanse of Xander’s back as he rinsed the dishes in the sink, before bending down to place them in the dishwasher. When he’d completed his task, he crossed through the dining room into the living room, sat down on a chair positioned next to the couch.

  Picking up his phone from a side table, Xander read through the many texts he’d received in the short time since Maddy had been in his presence. Reading a message from Jason, Xander stood immediately, strode quickly across the living room to knock on the door of Aaron’s office.

  The door opened and Xander glanced back at Maddy, mouthed ‘stay’ and then disappeared behind the doors with Aaron.

  Aaron looked up from his desk. Xander crossed the room and stood above him looking down at the anger-ridden expression on his face.

  “Did she eat? Where is she now?” Aaron’s voice was concerned.

  Understanding flooded Xander, unease suddenly touching upon his thoughts as to what, exactly, had happened between Aaron and his slave. “Is there something that’s happened, something you regret?”

  Shaking his head, Aaron settled back into the leather chair. He joined the tips of his fingers — forming a steeple — and pressed his index fingers to his lips before responding. His eyes narrowed just as he pulled his hand through his hair, obviously fighting some demon inside him. “No. I didn’t cross any line not previously crossed.” He looked up pointedly at Xander. “I came close, though … ” His voice a hushed confession. “ … She asked for it, wanted me to violate her body, to return to her the force of her orgasm.” His fingers came up to squeeze the skin between his eyes. “She liked it, Xander. There is something so absolutely wrong about that. I almost threw her down and taught her exactly what it felt like to be a whore.”

  Xander stood still, his stance one of respect. He didn’t dare move until Aaron had finished confessing that which haunted him. Slowly, he responded, “Even if it’s wrong because it is done while she’s held against her will, if she’s finding pleasure in your touch, why not grant her that small bit of satisfaction … a miniscule trace of light in her darkness?”

  The deep hued green of Aaron’s eyes looked up, rage burning behind them. “I won’t fuck her while she’s a captive. That part of her is not mine, not if it isn’t freely given. I’m not like the monster who raised me, I’ll never let that happen.” Aaron stood up, began pacing along the line of bookshelves on the walls. “I need to leave, Xander, I have to clear my head before continuing the training.”

  Suddenly remembering why he’d disturbed Aaron in the first place, Xander turned to his friend. “I have a good way for you to blow off some of that pent up anger.” Smiling, Xander picked up his phone, tossed it to Aaron across the room. “That text is from Jason. It seems, while he was meeting with Patrick and his men discussing their loyalty to you, a spy was discovered in the room. They caught him before he was able to leave. They’re holding him so that you can find out exactly why your father would send him.”

  A feral smile came over Aaron’s lips as the promise of violence shown out from his eyes. “You don’t say? I’ll pay him a visit, hopefully walk away more knowledgeable of exactly how cunning my father continues to be.” Moving to the doors, Aaron threw them open, crossed the living room without so much as glancing at Maddy on the couch. Continuing his quick pace to his room, he pulled on the straps of his shoulder harness, checked his guns to ensure they were loaded, before placing them into the harness. Pulling open a drawer, he pulled out his favorite knife, inspected the weapon before placing it back in its sheath and tucking it into the waistband at his back. He reached in the closet and pulled out a leather trench that reached down to his feet. Pulling the sleeves over his arms, he turned and stalked back out toward the living room, gave one final glance at Xander before letting himself out of the apartment.

  Death, violence and the feeling of steel slicing across the spy’s jugular would be a perfect distraction to the unwilling siren waiting for him in his home.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Aaron moved quickly through the halls of the large mansion. The entire property did not consist only of the building in which he lived. No, the broad expanse of land had been turned into a compound of sorts. Multiple buildings spread apart to house the members of The Estate; only those most trusted were allowed to live on the property itself.

  Pushing out through the double doors that led into a large courtyard, Aaron kept to the shadows as he moved across the grounds. With large, purposeful strides, he ducked out into the woods, away from the cameras he knew surrounded the buildings on the property. Violent anticipation, a chill in the air, as Aaron made his way to Jason’s quarters, a large, two-story house that stood on the outskirts of the property. Winter was coming and the air had dipped to such a cool temperature, that Aaron’s breath fogged out before him, his lips parting slightly as he allowed the pent up heat to escape his body. The leaves crunching underneath his feet were the only sounds he could hear as he moved quickly along the line of trees. Every once in a while, the branches would split apart just enough to allow moonlight to streak down and illuminate his path.

  The heavy steps of his feet fell rhythmically as his boots hit soundly against the dormant ground. When light appeared in the distance, Aaron grabbed the blade at his back, arming himself against ambush or attack. Normally, Xander was at Aaron’s back, never allowing him to go into a possible den of vipers alone, but with Madeleine held in the apartment, one man had to stay behind who could be trusted to keep her safe, to not lose himself to her temptation. Aaron would rather know Madeleine was safe from harm than ensure that he had eyes behind him that would see approaching danger before it got too close to feel the sting of his blade.

  As he approached the well lit home, his steps slowed, shortened as he peered out over the grounds surrounding the building. Even though Xander was convinced that Jason was loyal, Aaron trusted no man beyond the one he’d chosen as his first guard. The only shadows cast across the grounds were those of the large trees that surrounded the home, no signs of movement or life could be seen as Aaron perused the immediate area. Sure that no man awaited him in ambush, Aaron walked calmly across the exterior courtyard, down the large winding steps, and pushed into the house through a lesser used service door.

  Making his way through the kitchen, several cooks jumped in surprise. His leather coat billowed out around his feet creating an eerie shadow as he moved through the dining room and halls. When he approached the front living room, he slowed again, listened as several men spoke quietly nearby. The conversation w
asn’t anything of use, mindless chatter from men who sounded like they already tied one on early in the evening.

  “And how did I know you would not be knocking on the front door?”

  Aaron spun around, immediately moved to grab the other man in the room and knocked him against a wall with the steel of his blade cutting into the first layers of the skin around the man’s neck.

  Not surprised to have been overtaken by Aaron, Jason wore a blank expression, knowing full well that Aaron is his father’s most deadly assassin.

  “Remind me not to come up behind you a second time.” Jason’s voice was tight, his throat moving against the razor-sharp edge of the blade held firmly in Aaron’s hand. A bead of ruby liquid trailed from the edge of Aaron’s knife, down the stubble scattered along Jason’s neck. Slowly, Aaron let go as he pulled his weapon back to place it in the sheath.

  Jason hand’s came up to wipe away the single drop of blood running along his skin. Looking down at the red stain on his hand, he looked up at Aaron, and smiled before saying, “I would ask you for a shave with that thing, if I wasn’t concerned about your blade cutting too close.” He chuckled, reaching out to shake Aaron’s hand.

  Aaron straightened his spine, suspiciously eying the man standing in front of him, before finally relenting and taking Jason’s hand in a firm grip. “Jason … What do you know about the spy?”

  Jason nodded, quickly noting Aaron’s desire to cut to the chase. “I was meeting with Patrick and some of his men this evening. We were discussing the changes Xander has been pushing regarding the hierarchy of The Estate. I’m behind you one hundred percent, Aaron. Your father has lost himself to a power trip of madness and greed. This network has become far more corrupt in the past few years, being led by those two jackals, Emory and Vincent. You already control the legitimate business, there’s no reason you couldn’t rule the darker side as well. You’re a smart man and the most lethal son of a bitch around here. We want to side with you.”

  Aaron blinked, but kept an indifferent expression on his face. Never one to chat with men he didn’t know well, he wanted to keep words and actions to the task at hand, give it more time before discussing conspiracy and allegiance. “The spy? Tell me about him.”

  “He’s a bottom-feeder, a common crook who got caught trying to record the meeting. He’d tagged along with one of Patrick’s men, supposedly applying for entry into his unit. Patrick was the one who caught him, took the recording device and locked the asshole up before contacting Xander. It was surprising to hear that you would be coming to talk with him.”

  Considering the information, Aaron was quiet for a moment before finally responding. “This sounds easy enough. It shouldn’t take too long for me to find out for whom he works, if it was my father who’d sent him in. Take me to him.” Aaron looked over as Jason nodded his assent and turned to lead Aaron down a corridor to their right and up a set of narrow stairs that must have been intended for easy movement by staff personnel so that they could remain out of sight of any houseguests. Aaron continued following Jason noticing that, although the man was just short of six feet, the width of his shoulders almost equaled the length of space between the walls of the corridor they now traveled. A heavily muscled man, Jason was no stranger to a fight. His features were made even more striking by the pure white of his hair and the light silver of his eyes. The stark beauty of Jason was enough to fool any man who didn’t expect the pure rage that Aaron knew existed within the man who could end up his greatest ally.

  Stopping suddenly, Jason unlocked a small, interior door, leading Aaron inside a closet-sized chamber where the spy had been kept awaiting his arrival. There was barely enough room for the three men to move around, but Aaron didn’t need ample amounts of space for the purpose of his visit.

  Aaron’s coat blew out around his feet as he swiftly entered the room, noticing how the suspected spy’s eyes filled with panic upon his entry. A pathetic excuse for a criminal, he sat bent over a small, square table set in the middle of the room. His thin brown hair was balding at the top, and wire frame glasses circled eyes that belonged more to a rodent than to a man. His thin frame shook from dread and fear and his clothes were torn and stained red from the beating he’d already taken from Patrick. The spy reminded Aaron of Theo Hollis, the man whose blood ran free from his body earlier that day after Aaron discovered his theft from the business.

  Pulling a chair from the table, Aaron turned it around, sitting down while resting his muscular arms over the back of the chair. The sound of the chair’s feet as they struck the wooden floor echoed through the small room, accenting the vile stink of fear already overpowering the small space. Aaron stared silently at the spy for a few moments, allowed terror to fill the man’s entire body before asking his questions. As those quiet moments passed, the only sound breaking the silence was the anxious breath of the man sitting across the table.

  With a voice saturated in threat and cruel intent, Aaron finally asked, “Who are you?”

  The beady brown of the man’s eyes peered up, widening when they saw the scathing grin stretched tight against Aaron’s face. Opening his mouth, his breaths became heavier, his heart undoubtedly beating through his chest in anticipation of the death that was sure to come. “M … My name is Collinsworth … Mark Collinsworth.”

  Aaron nodded, amused that the pathetic creature before him was able to speak clearly while fully aware that his last minutes on Earth were stretched out before him. “Do you know who I am … Mr. Collinsworth?" A simple question, but one laced with the eventuality of pain and death.

  The spy looked up, blinked his small eyes a few times before nodding in acknowledgment of the question. "You're Aaron Carmichael; you're Joseph Carmichael's son."

  Aaron's heart beat faster at the sound of his father's name. The feel of his blade against this man's throat would be that much sweeter after the filth of his father’s name had been allowed to roll so easily off the spy’s tongue.

  "I am." Leaning back, Aaron moved his arms so that only his hands gripped the backside of the chair in which he sat. "You must know why I'm here speaking with you tonight. Do you mind telling me and my friend, Jason, why, exactly, you thought it a wise idea to record what was intended to be a private meeting?"

  The spy fidgeted in his seat, his beady eyes traveling back and forth between Aaron and Jason. Losing his patience, Aaron spoke in an effort to speed Mr. Collinsworth's answer along. "I can begin removing parts of your body, Mark, if you feel that will help you discover the answer to my question." A threat yes, but an act Aaron had been known to commit many times in the years he'd acted as assassin for the network.

  The scrawny man's body began to shake violently upon hearing Aaron's threat. Laughter, mocking and cruel, bubbled out from Aaron as he watched the man before him reduced to a fit of absolute horror. "Don't piss yourself, it will only make my job a lot more … messy … in the end. I'm actually quite fond of the boots I’m wearing. It would only anger me more if I was forced to dirty them by stepping in your piss."

  "I … it wasn't my initial intention to record the meeting, but when I heard there would be an uprising against Mr. Carmichael, I thought such information would be valuable, might help bring me to a higher position within the network."

  Aaron smiled, felt pity for the stupid man sitting before him that was far too honest for his own good. "To whom were you planning on selling that information? You must have had an idea of someone that would find it of interest."

  Resignation dampened the man's eyes, the droop of his shoulders a clear indication he knew what was to come. "I believed Mr. Carmichael himself would take notice of me if I were to deliver the information, that he would give me a position above that which could be granted by Patrick’s unit."

  "So your attempt at espionage was your idea alone, you weren't sent by any man in particular?" Aaron suspected the spy truly did act on his own, thinking he'd stumbled upon information that would make him a higher ranked member of The Estate. Unfor
tunately, the weak son of a bitch neglected to think that by presenting the information to his father, he'd also be revealing himself to be the rat that he was. Aaron's father did not gain his throne by allowing men known to talk to live for any longer than it took them to deliver their message. Loyalty did not exist among criminals when loose tongues were involved.

  The spy shook his head "no", dropped his eyes to the dirty and scarred table positioned between them.

  Further questioning wasn't necessary, this man was no more than an unknown leech attempting to feed off the network. With a quickness akin to that of a snake, Aaron jumped across the table, the sound of his chair striking heavy against the floor as he pinned the pathetic shell of a man to the wall, his blade tearing through skin and tendons, the gurgled sound of the man's trachea and esophagus being ripped open by the forceful slice of steel. The arterial spray burst out, bathing Aaron in the evidence of violence and death. Dropping the man like nothing more than a butchered animal, Aaron gazed down at the lifeless body, watched as the head rolled and twisted into an unnatural position, held to the body by nothing more than the bits of spine still attached. Aaron's chest heaved with labored breath, the weight of his demons momentarily lifted by the act of an executioner.

  Turning, Aaron noticed how Jason's silver eyes were held wide, lit by a mix of respect and mortal fear. Aaron could imagine the nightmare he must portray, a man skilled in the art of execution, who preferred the steel of a blade to the impersonal use of lead bullets when taking down his kill. Aaron's eyes followed the thick muscles that worked along Jason's neck as he swallowed down his surprise at witnessing the ruthless acts of an assassin as proficient as Aaron.