Wicked Weapon (Dark Hearts Book 2)

by Cari Silverwood

  “In.” Einar went through and beckoned to me.

  The guard behind me pushed on my shoulder. I could run, but where would I go?

  I wasn’t a ninja, a Rambo, an MMA fighter. I was a librarian with a history of being a bouncer at some rough nightclubs. Any one, probably two, of these men, I would willingly beat the ever-loving fuck out of their faces, shove them into a toilet in pieces, and flush. With three guards plus Einar and Kaage, no. I hadn’t a hope of success.

  I had to pick the right time to rebel. It wasn’t now. No matter what dirty things they were planning. If I died here, Zorie might die too, after they had their fun with her.

  When I stepped through, they turned on the lights. A young woman was strung upside-down, quietly swaying, quietly moaning, all ready for them to do whatever perverse things they intended.

  I drew a long steadying breath.

  Naked, she was stripped already. The cameraman was here, half propped up by his camera tripod, his feet crossed at the ankle. He looked bored, yet alert.

  Maybe that was because I was so tense my face must be purple-red.

  Standing here next to some girl they meant to kill was nightmare territory. I figured they were going to ask me to do the deed.

  Hell no to the nth variety of digits. To infinity. To whatever shit-storm universe these puss-hole bastard fuckwads came from. If the Devil hadn’t taken their souls, it was probably because they scared him.

  Einar strolled to the girl and caught a big handful of her trailing hair. He gathered it in his fist while he made her spin, with his other hand on her hip, a little this way, then that way.

  Raven-black hair. Deep black and it shone. A young, very young woman, who reminded me of her. Of Zorie’s friend. Except her hair had been shorter. That had been long ago.

  To say her name in my head would be a jinx.

  The foreboding with this was undoing me.

  “What the fuck am I doing here?” I had to ask. Prolonging this was screwing with my head.

  “What?” He smiled that evil smile, stroking his half-assed beard as if he’d forgotten the girl whose hair he held. “What are you doing here?” Then he spun her again. Bubbles of spit came out of her mouth and when he released her hair, it swept across the floor. “You’re here for her. But you know that. You’re going to kill her for us, after you fuck her.”

  In the utter quiet, I heard a gun click behind me, several times, as if someone snapped a safety on and off to remind me they were there.

  “I’m your incentive,” the guard said. Another man had taken a position opposite, past the girl, and in his hand was also a pistol.

  That they expected me to refuse made this worse. It made it likely to be her, didn’t it? I eyed her, the poor thing. I wasn’t fucking her, or killing her for them. “No.”

  A pendant that’d tangled in her hair was the last piece of civilization on her body. The purple gemstone had dropped free and now dangled low, glinting. It’d caught at the back of her head and the chain fell from there, framing her face.

  “This is Cherie, isn’t it?” That my heart still beat seemed ironic and perverse, when a guard was holding out a knife to me. It was short and it shone like silver in the light.

  They wanted me to stick the knife in her. I swallowed. What terrible things men did. How had I come to this?

  “Yes, this is Cherie. She’s a friend of your Zorie, right?”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Zorie would be inconsolable. After a struggle, I dismissed the anguished frown that’d broken my stoic look and settled into a zombie expression again.

  “Hmmm? You know Cherie, Mister Grimm? She tried to escape, but she isn’t dying for that reason.”

  She was gaping like a fish. What’d they done to her? Bruises striped her torso. I forced myself to look at Einar. “Why?”

  “We have an order for her death from her owner. You’d be surprised how often we get these. He likes neat endings. Doesn’t want them running loose after he tires of them.”

  Was he lying? Why would he? But he might. Einar had probably suckled on lies his whole stinking life. I heard the familiar click of Kaage’s knuckles and glanced to my left. If I had the knife, could I take them all?

  If I were a superhero, sure. Me? It’d get me killed.

  Why not just say no?

  “If I say no?”

  “You die.”

  The clink of the chain they’d tied her feet to, the small shuffle of the men’s feet, her gasps, these were the only sounds. Could I die for her? Wouldn’t she die anyway? Maybe. Yes. But... Fuck, my morals were going to get me dead.

  “I can’t. Fuck, no.” My stomach had grown thorns, twisty thorns. “No.”

  Maybe they were bluffing.

  “Don’t you want to be employed by us?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I’m no fucking lackey. Get your men to do this. You said if I became a collector that you’d free me, give me Zorie. Do that. I will work for you, but not...” I waved at the woman. “Not this. Not her.”

  “You don’t care if we kill her anyway?” Kaage had spoken.

  I turned. It was going to happen. I had to cut myself loose, pretend I was with them. Would it work? Probably not. I’d try though.

  “No.”

  At that, Einar chuckled. “You might’ve been fun to work with. The problem is, you’re not going to become a collector, Grimm.”

  What? Startled, I faced him.

  “Haven’t you noticed the sweats, the fever you’re going through? That rash on your neck? We’ve seen another do this. It means the infection is failing. It’s why you’re so shit at controlling Zorie. Why you have lost the drive. The need to hurt, to fuck, to control.”

  Stunned, I failed to find an answer. Was he right?

  “So. You can’t get out of this that way.” He tweaked the girl’s hair sideways then let it go and smacked her ass, rocking her in the chains. “You want your precious Zorie not to have this done to her, not to be...this.” He took the knife from the guard and drew it down Cherie’s stomach, leaving a bright red line. Though she jerked at the pain, he continued until he reached her breast then he studied me. “If you don’t want her to be gutted, you do it to this one.”

  Struck dumb, I wavered on my feet. How did I get out of this? She’d never forgive me if she knew.

  “We’ll pull her higher so you can fuck her mouth. Let’s hope she doesn’t bite too much.” He grinned. A guard began winding up the chain where it was fastened next to the wall. “Tie one of his hands at his back.”

  While guns were trained on me, someone tied my left hand at the small of my back, wrapping rope around my waist. Dread coiled inside me, winding closer and closer, smaller, until somewhere in that knot was me, my past, my integrity. They would destroy that here, today. Zorie’s death was the alternative – the worst sort, with these men torturing her. Or I could kill this woman, the friend she’d come here to save.

  The knife was placed in my hand.

  Why couldn’t I be a superhero and leap from man to man, killing them all?

  I shouldn’t be here. I wanted time to go backward, forward, to anytime but now.

  A man shouldn’t cry but my face contorted as I walked closer. Blood trickled from between her breasts to her neck from the cut he’d made.

  “Take out that cock of yours, big man, and face-fuck her.

  To my right, the cameraman crouched, aiming his camera. Lights blinked. Cherie opened her eyes and stared at me, her mouth still gasping. I figured they’d hurt her badly already from the difficulty she was having breathing.

  “Do it.”

  I put my knife-holding hand to my pants as I took that last step. My fist had clamped onto the little knife so hard my fingers were growing numb.

  My face twisted up. “I’m sorry, Cherie.”

  I lashed out and cut her throat in one swipe. The tug of her flesh jarred my hand only a little. Blood burst out in a spray, drenching my pants. The wound stretched open revealing more blood and the whitene
ss of severed cartilage.

  In five, six seconds, her mouth ceased to move. Her chest stilled, though her entire body shuddered in the throes of death. “I’m so sorry.” Tears finally came, dripping down my face. She was gone. It was done. I let the knife fall from my fingers. “Assholes. You’re all assholes.”

  “Well, well.” Einar laughed. “What a show. Never mind. We have you on film so everything is good. The client can be compensated.”

  I went to one knee. With one hand bound at my back, the other covered in blood, with blood on my jeans and at my feet, I mourned for her. I mourned for this girl who had died for no reason at all except to satisfy the evil demands of men. I found myself shaking with the fever again.

  But it was Zorie I mourned for most. She was alive. At least this girl was at peace.

  A moment later they began to bind my other hand at my back as well. It was a binding that ended up more organized than the rough rope-work they’d used on my left. Three guards supervised. I had a feeling my situation was going to get even worse.

  “Better.” Einar, narrow-eyed, watched as they hauled me to my feet. “For a big man, you’re a big pussy.”

  I didn’t answer, didn’t growl, didn’t spit. At times like this, I waited. I’d come out on top, because I always would.

  “Nothing?” He nodded. “We’ll see what you say tonight. You’ve proved yourself, Grimm. You’re no mesmer. You won’t obey instructions. You’re no use to us anymore except as entertainment.”

  “I’m a man who won’t dance for you, Einar. Unlike these puppets.” I jerked my chin at the guards. A couple of them scowled and moved closer.

  Kaage stepped in too, putting his hand up. “Back.”

  “Yes. Back.” Einar spared them a glance. “He’s for tonight when our client comes for his little fun film. Grimm’s the entrée, so to speak, before we use his girlfriend.”

  They were using Zorie for some client? Pain gripped the center of my chest. I’d known something like this was coming but...now? What else had the universe planned for us today? Arma-fucking-geddon? They’d mean to kill me, before that. Protesting would only amuse the assholes, though I glared.

  “You are the quiet one.” Kaage loomed over me, a pair of goggles in one hand.

  “Going swimming? Flying?” I couldn’t help taunting.

  “No. Hold his head.”

  Then I saw the metal nails going into the center of the goggle lenses. And I guessed. Those were for me.

  Animal instinct ripped past my patience and I tried to rise, twisting my arms to free myself. It was futile. The ropes were tight and unyielding. Two of the fuckers, the guards, held my head while they wrestled the goggles on and strapped them tight, including a strap that went beneath my chin and around my neck. Though almost no light penetrated the blacked-out goggles, I could see glints where the nails penetrated the plastic. Light trickled far enough down the shaft of the nails for me to know they were aimed dead center at my eyes.

  My throat rasped as I sucked in air.

  “You’re going back to your room now, Mister Grimm, where we will strap you down on your cozy bed, to wait. Pray the nails stay where they are. If gravity takes them, they will tickle your eyeballs, and you have a few hours to wait before the show. Let him piss before you tie him down then watch him. If he gets loose, I will blind the man who let him do it.”

  They dragged me back though I wanted to walk. Struggling seemed likely to accidentally knock a nail into the goggles. I stayed still.

  Nothing, I discovered, beat lying on your back waiting to be turned into someone’s sadistic entree. The straps holding me to the bed were well planned and buckled. A guard stayed to watch. I could hear him sitting in a chair nearby.

  How did I beat the darkness when moving meant a nail driven through my eyes? There are fears you never know you have until you face them.

  Some of the time, I stared upward at the unseen ceiling and the nails. When the itch that warned me of the sharp metal, a half inch above my corneas, became too much, I shut my eyes.

  I flexed my hands where they were pinned under my back to keep the blood flowing.

  I’d wait until they moved me. I had no choice.

  Chapter 29

  Mavros

  “We’re almost there, Sir.” Rose nodded at the guard sitting beside her, on the bench that ran along their side of the van. She’d exchanged some piece of information with him.

  With us shut into the back of this van, there was no other way she’d know our location.

  Rose’s black bob of hair sheened from the wan overhead lighting. Her dark top and pants looked businesslike yet cute enough for a restaurant dinner. She was the perfect bodyguard. SAS trained, if not SAS, and one of my acquired. I was sure my own control would overwhelm any commands these feebler mesmers could cast.

  They thought to keep me under control by making us weaponless and lost, by taking us in an unmarked van to our destination.

  I took stock of the people with us. A driver, plus a man riding shotgun with him up front, two men in here, one next to me, and all of them alert and no doubt experienced at security. Yet they had no clue as to the tracker in my tooth. The one in Zorie’s mouth was a piece of shit compared to what the government could muster up when necessary.

  We had a stealth helicopter on surveillance, miles back, and cars shadowing us, but also miles away. The signal would get through. It was just a matter of whether they could assemble a good plan in time. Wherever we ended up, the blueprints of the structure would be sought, but found in time? No one could predict that, or how good the opposition’s up-close security would be.

  Way too many ifs, and I only had Rose, my little acquired with her skills. She’d do whatever was needed, including sacrifice herself for me. It might not be enough, but I was going to try. Anything to take down the men who’d killed Phoebe. Anything.

  I’d pulled in my contacts in MI5 and parliament for this. So much possible exposure. They wouldn’t talk about why they obeyed me but people might explore deeper and wonder how this mission had originated.

  My anything included pretending to be a snuff film aficionado.

  If I didn’t get Zorie out alive, I’d be disappointed. Losing her as well as my daughter to these men would be unbearable. This assault had taken far longer to assemble than I’d thought it would. Whatever they’d done to her, I’d make sure I repaired the damage, twice over.

  “She’s in good condition?” I asked the man next to Rose then sipped more whiskey. Poor stuff but it’d do.

  “Very, sir. I saw her this morning. She has a few minor marks on her back but nothing that will interfere with what you want done.”

  “Good. Very good.”

  Zorie was alive, that was the main thing. Anything else, I could fix, after we killed every other soul in the place. Everyone who had the slightest blemish, the slightest blame. Once Rose had a weapon, I would make sure she used it, properly, even if the soldiers following us were cautious about killing.

  Elbow on knee, I rested my forehead on my hand, while staring at the rocking floor. I tried not to think of what Zorie must have gone through. My doing, yes, but I had good intentions. This would be worth it, a hundredfold, if I could see Phoebe’s captor dead.

  That damn tooth had been my undoing. She probably had no idea still. Next time I’d use better tech, a better advisor. I could have found Zorie so much earlier...

  Chapter 30

  Zorie

  Stay strong. Grimm’s last words remained in my mind, an earworm that reminded me simultaneously of him and his actions at the greenhouse, and everything else they’d done.

  I lay on my stomach on the bed, feeling the throb of the many tiny punctures. Every time I winced, I remembered. The man was trying to help. It didn’t matter. What they’d made him do was working evil within me. A psychologist could write an entire thesis on my mind.

  The hurts overwhelmed the niceness. That he enjoyed fucking me when I was bound to their will...worse, even
though I thought he was as compelled as I was.

  Pat a puppy a million times, if you spend the same amount of time beating it, the dog will hide under the bed when you come home.

  I was pretty damn sure staying strong was no longer enough. We were in a spiraling nosedive and heading for the ground at speed. Words were useless.

  Cherie was gone. She was out there somewhere. Maybe she’d bring help, but when? It seemed unlikely to be in time.

  A few minutes ago, Kaage and Einar had opened my door, come to the side of the bed, and gloated. Though wary, I’d stayed where I was since that was what they wished.

  Einar had run his forefinger up my back, smiling when I flinched. “Tonight, your client comes for you.”

  Mine. My client.

  “Don’t worry,” Kaage had added. “You don’t have to do anything except be a woman.”

  I’d never seen such thick fascination in his eyes.

  They were going to do something bad to me, again, something worse than merely bad.

  I gingerly levered myself off the bed then found the hairpin. I made up my hair into a bun with the pin as the pièce de résistance.

  After all, what was the point in being strong if you had nothing with which to kill?

  *****

  The guards had me dress before them in one of the shorter white dresses, before they tied my hands at my back and led me to the main training hall. That alone was significant. They’d never bound me for this, except for that last time, when I went to the green house.

  This would be like that. My mind unfogged. They were worried I might protest.

  In which case, protesting sounded good.

  The comfortable chairs lined up to one side of the room implied there might be several viewers of whatever was to happen. The huge overhead screen, opposite the chairs, said movies, or that they meant to film what happened and replay it.

  The coldness wracking me drove another shiver through my body. My nipples were tight; my limbs felt drained of energy; my lips seemed close to blue. I was that cold. Fear had a way of signaling itself even when you wished to appear brave.