by Lauren Smith
“You okay to do this?” Hans whispered from beside him.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “I’m not the kind of man who…” Who murders people.
Hans met his gaze, a solemn understanding between them. Then Hans held out his hand, and Royce wordlessly passed him the vial.
Fuck, he hoped this worked. They wouldn’t know if their plan had succeeded for another thirty-six to seventy-two hours while the poison worked its way through Vadym’s system.
“Which one is he?” Royce asked Dimitri.
“The man in the back. The one in the tall gold-and-black chair that looks like a fucking throne.”
Royce finally saw the man who’d caused him so much pain, so much anger. Vadym sat in the chair, a damned throne like Hans said, with a cold smile as he gripped the chain of a collared woman who sat beside him on the floor. The woman’s eyes were glassy with terror. She was definitely not there by choice. He could only pray he could find a way to help her. If Vadym died soon, they might be able to free the woman. The poison would take a few days.
Royce grabbed the arm of a waitress who was carrying drinks toward Vadym that he’d already ordered, and while the waitress was distracted by Royce, Hans swapped out the glass of scotch on the tray for the one he’d dosed with ricin. Then the waitress continued toward Vadym and his men.
Everyone held their breath, waiting to see what would happen. Royce watched the waitress’s progress out of the corner of his eye as she approached Vadym. Vadym took the glass and leaned forward as the waitress spoke to him. Then his gaze flicked to the girl Royce had pointed out. He raised the glass to his lips, and every muscle in Royce coiled tight. He was doing it, killing a man in cold blood, but the man was a monster.
Vadym lowered the glass from his lips untouched and slowly turned his head to Royce and smiled. He held the glass in the air in a salute and then lowered it toward the girl trapped on the floor at his side. Her haunted eyes fixed dully on the drink he offered.
A shout started to work its way through Royce’s throat but not fast enough. Vadym had made them.
“No!” Kenzie’s scream tore through the nightclub, and the girl who had just been forced to take the glass from Vadym dropped it. It hit the stone floor and shattered.
Royce turned to Hans, hoping for a plan B, but everything happened too fast. Men from every corner of the room pulled guns on them. All he could think was to get to Kenzie to protect her.
Hans and the others were just beyond the ring of armed men. Tatiana had a death grip on the bodyguard, whispering something to Hans, but the man didn’t seem to be listening. He was going to break free and charge in. Royce gave a small shake of his head.
Stay there, don’t expose yourself. He prayed Hans would understand. At least if he held back there was a chance the others could do something later.
But Vadym didn’t move from his chair. He waited patiently while his men grabbed Royce by the arms and dragged him to their boss. He struggled, but more for show than actual effect. Then he was shoved in front of Vadym.
“Dr. Devereaux, thank you for the…drink. I thought perhaps it might not sit well, seeing as how you prepared it.”
Royce eyed the glass shards and the young woman who’d almost died. She was looking at him, horror in her eyes. He’d almost gotten her killed.
“Well, Doctor?” Vadym sneered.
“Just returning the favor,” Royce countered. “A present from Dr. Abramov.”
The corner of Vadym’s lip ticked up a little. “I see.” He gave a short nod to the men behind Royce. One of the men who’d dragged Royce kicked him hard in the back, forcing him to his hands and knees.
“Royce?” Kenzie’s cry startled him. He looked up and saw her being dragged into view by one of Vadym’s goons as he spoke to Vadym in Russian.
“Dr. Devereaux, how thoughtful of you to bring another present. My current bitch is starting to displease me, and I could use another, one that has still some fight left in her.” Vadym struck the chained woman, hard yet dismissively. She collapsed to the floor and lay motionless, but Royce saw she was still breathing.
“She isn’t for you,” Royce growled.
“I don’t think you have a say in what happens to her.”
“I think I do,” Royce argued. “If you want me to help you falsify the country of origin on those Mongolian fossils, you will leave Kenzie unharmed and with me. If not, I won’t cooperate.”
Vadym shrugged. “I could torture her until you comply.”
“You could.” Royce sat back on his heels as he stared into the face of pure evil. “But you won’t find anyone of my reputation to give you what you want, and if you harm her I won’t do shit for you. And you won’t have the pleasure of forcing me to lie, the man who robbed you of the oviraptor nest last year. I cost you fifteen million dollars, am I right?”
Royce chuckled, acting carefree, even though he was feeling anything but.
Vadym snarled. “You cost me much more than that, you American pig.”
Royce tsked. “Now, now, Vadym. You don’t want to get all Russian mob stereotype on me, now do you? Especially not in front of witnesses.” He nodded at the crowd looking at them from beyond. Hans, Dimitri, and Tatiana were still there, but so far they had gone unnoticed.
“Witnesses? Please. I own the police,” Vadym boasted.
“But I see at least one person in that crowd is filming you on their smartphone. When this shit goes viral on YouTube, you’ll be screwed,” Royce added. “It’s better to keep me and my woman alive and unharmed.”
Vadym was quiet for a long moment. Then he nodded at someone behind Royce, and pain exploded through his skull. He hit the ground, just inches from the poor woman Vadym had hit, and fell unconscious.
Hans could barely breathe. Hands dug into his arms, keeping him still as Royce and Kenzie were hauled away through the back door of the club.
I can’t let that boy down. His eyes burned and his vision blurred with tears. Am I fucking crying?
“Brummer, everything will be fine. We’ll go after them,” Dimitri promised in a low tone only Hans and Tatiana could hear. The room was still full of armed men who were watching every move around them for signs that Royce and Kenzie had allies.
“He’s right,” said Tatiana, leaning into him by the bar. “If you tried to fight now, Vadym would only kill you. For now, Devereaux is safe and well, and if he’s smart he can protect the girl.”
But all Hans could picture was a tiny child, one who sat quietly beside another boy with bruises and cuts everywhere. Royce had been only eight years old when Emery had been rescued.
Hans hadn’t been able to get the scene out of his head—Emery on one bed, knees tucked up to his chin, eyes wide and gaze distant and Royce sitting there with him, not speaking, offering his presence, the only thing he had to give. Hans had sworn to protect all of them with his life after that, Emery, Wes, and Royce. They were like his sons, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to them.
Terror squeezed his heart until he could feel blood leaking out. I’ve failed. Royce was in the hands of a heartless monster, and Kenzie—God, sweet little Kenzie—she was at the mercy of a brutal human trafficker.
“Hans.” Dimitri’s harsh tone pulled him abruptly out of the spinning pit his mind was falling into. “Finish your drink and we’ll leave. Do you have a tracker on you? One of the Black Widows from Lockwood Industries?”
With a nod, Hans pulled the tracker—a tiny black dot in a clear bag—from his coat pocket. He slipped it out and handed it to Tatiana, and then he swept his gaze toward a guard with a gun as he was walking toward the door that Royce had been carried through.
Tatiana thrust out her chest and sauntered toward a guard, casually bumping into him. Hans watched as she apologized in slurred Russian and slipped her hand into the guard’s pocket, seeming to grab his crotch. The guard lowered his gun, grinning as he copped a feel of her ass. Tatiana allowed it for a few seconds before she slowly withdrew her hand
from his pocket, and with a drunken laugh, she slipped free of him and kept walking. She returned to Hans and Dimitri, brushed her hair back, and smiled.
“The tracker is planted on his phone.”
Hans could have kissed the beautiful Russian bombshell, but there’d be time to celebrate once they had Royce and Kenzie safe. Hans pulled out his phone and dialed Emery’s number. He answered on the second ring.
“Hans, how’s Russia?” His happy voice filled Hans with some hope. At least one of his boys was safe. That calmed the raging beast inside him.
“Cold as fuck,” he said with a chuckle. “I need you to run the location on the Black Widow I took from the stock before I left.”
“Sure, hang on. Cody? You hear that?”
Cody Larson’s voice could be heard in the background. “Yeah, I’m on it.”
“How’s Royce doing? And what’s the deal with his TA? Did they ever…?” Emery trailed off, laughing.
“Royce is…” Hans couldn’t tell Emery that he’d lost his childhood friend to an evil motherfucking Russian mobster. “Fine. He’s fine. And yeah, he and Kenzie hooked up. She’s good for him.”
Emery sighed. “About time he settled down. He is the last one, you know. He was way too reckless.”
“Yeah,” Hans agreed, his eyes scanning the club as he saw the armed guard they’d bugged leaving the club out the back door. “Reckless.”
“Found it. Who are we tracking?” Cody’s voice was louder as Emery put them on speaker.
“A guard who works for Vadym. Cody, can you get any intel, legal or otherwise, on Vadym? Favorite haunts, favorite foods, mistresses, addresses of residences and businesses. Give me a whole damn dossier.”
“Sure thing, man. What’s up? You sound stressed.”
Hans closed his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and forefinger. “I made a mistake. Vadym got the upper hand. I’ve got to handle him.”
“Hans,” Emery cut in. “How bad is it?”
“Bad, but if you can link me to the tracker on my phone and get me that intel, I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?” Emery asked.
“Yeah.” He made a silent vow to get Royce and Kenzie back safe or die trying.
“Your app has the new tracking info. I’ll send everything I can find on Vadym ASAP,” Cody promised.
“Thanks, kid,” Hans said and hung up. Dimitri and Tatiana were still watching him as he opened the tracking app on his phone. The screen filled with the intimidating graphic of a black widow spider crawling across the screen, and then he was prompted for a password. Once he was in, he saw the tracking profile label, “Russian Bastard.” No doubt Cody’s idea. He tapped on the profile, and a map appeared. A red dot was slowly moving away from the club on a series of streets. Hans held up his phone.
“The tracker’s up and running.”
“Good,” Dimitri said. “We watch and wait for them to stop moving, and then we can plan a rescue mission.”
“If we’re lucky, we could bust him for human trafficking.” Tatiana’s eyes were bright. “All I need is evidence of the victims being transported.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get your proof,” Hans said. But he would much rather put a bullet between Vadym’s eyes for taking Royce and Kenzie. Royce was too softhearted, using ricin. Fuckers like Vadym deserved a bullet, and Hans could be as cold-blooded as he needed to be when it came to killing monsters. Prison wasn’t always enough. Men like Vadym could bribe their way out or control their empire from behind bars and still destroy lives. The only way to protect innocent lives from men like Vadym was by ending him.
I’m coming for you.
15
Kenzie was shoved into a black van outside the club, her hands bound in front of her. Two of Vadym’s men tossed the poor unconscious woman onto the floor beside her, before they walked around to the front of the van and got in. Through the front windshield, Kenzie could see Royce being dragged to a black SUV parked in front of them.
When they’d knocked Royce out, Kenzie had nearly fainted. Her heart hadn’t stopped pounding and she felt dizzy with terror, but she’d managed to stay in control. This was so much worse than Gary and Monte attacking her at Royce’s office. Compared to this, that had been child’s play.
Vadym had her in his clutches, and he’d made it clear he was going to use her to get what he wanted from Royce and then to hurt her after he disposed of this other poor woman. Kenzie crawled over to the woman and rolled her onto her back. The left side of her face was still red from Vadym’s blow.
She pressed two fingers under the woman’s jaw and felt the steady pulse of a heartbeat. Kenzie sat back, relieved, waiting, feeling the van’s engine start, and then they pulled out into traffic. That’s when she felt it. Something jarring into her hip under her dress. She’d completely forgotten that Royce had slipped her something when they’d first entered the club. She hiked up her dress and removed the object.
It was a slender old-fashioned pocketknife. The initials RD were engraved along with the Devereaux family crest. He’d given her his pocketknife, the one his father had given him when he turned sixteen. He said he never went anywhere without it.
But he gave it to me. Don’t worry, Royce, I’ll get out of this, I promise. Her resolve became like steel, as though her very soul had been forged and hardened into a blade. She knew in that instant that she could kill if it meant she could save Royce. All she needed was the right moment.
The girl beside her moaned. Her eyes fluttered open.
“Wha…What happened?” The girl struggled to sit up. Fortunately, she wasn’t bound at her wrists like Kenzie.
“Hey, you okay?” Kenzie asked.
“I—” The girl shivered. “No.” She leaned back against the other side of the van, her eyes looking off to a faraway place. “I haven’t been okay in a long time.”
“What’s your name? I’m MacKenzie Martin. Everyone just calls me Kenzie.”
The girl sniffed and wiped her tears. “I’m Elena Allen.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Elena. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
Elena laughed bitterly and looked toward the front of the van, where a Plexiglas wall separated them from the drivers.
“You don’t know these people,” Elena said, her voice breaking. “I’ve been tortured, raped, and drugged for two months. Maybe longer. I’m not even sure what month it is. I don’t think I can stand it. Not anymore. I—” Tears poured down her cheeks, and Kenzie was torn between horror and rage. She clenched her fists and carefully showed the girl the knife strapped to her garter.
“What’s that?”
“A little friend.” Kenzie tucked it back under her dress.
“You think a knife will help?” Elena sighed wearily. “These guys have guns. They’re trained. They’re sick. You think I haven’t tried to get out of here? I have tried. Once they even let me think I had made it out of the building, only to find out it had been one of their twisted games. And each time the punishment was worse than the last.”
Elena shifted, trying to pull her short black dress down her legs. Kenzie didn’t miss the jagged scars on her thighs.
Oh God, what did Vadym do to her?
“You were alone, weren’t you?” Kenzie asked.
Elena nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well you aren’t anymore. It isn’t just me. Vadym pissed off my professor, Dr. Devereaux.”
“The guy Vadym was talking to?”
Kenzie nodded.
“I don’t think he’s much help. No offense, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to do anything.”
Kenzie started to smile. “You don’t know Royce. He’s…he’s a badass. Think of him like Indiana Jones. He’s got more tricks up his sleeve. And we have outside help. They all want to bring Vadym down, and I think we will. They’re probably tracking us right now.” Kenzie prayed her words would fill Elena’s heart with hope as well. They were not helpless.
“You really think we’ll get out
of this?” Elena asked.
She let her hands pat the pocketknife in its hidden spot. “Yeah, I do.”
The van drove for nearly an hour before it stopped. Kenzie sat up and peered through the Plexiglas window. They were at an airport, one that looked private given the small number of expensive-looking planes and the low level of security.
“Vadym’s private jet,” Elena explained. “I’ve been on it a few times. He likes to drag me along when he travels.” The SUV ahead of them stopped close to a plane. Kenzie saw Royce hauled out the back of the SUV, struggling. He managed to get his hands free and slam one man’s head into the side of the door. He crumpled to the ground. Royce turned to face the other man, who quickly pulled out a gun. Royce froze.
Elena glanced from Royce to Kenzie, and Kenzie shrugged. “At least that’s one less asshole to deal with.”
“Right.” Elena’s lips pursed in a grim line. She was quite beautiful, with blonde hair and soft green eyes. But there was an intelligence and fire there that showed her inner strength. That was what Vadym was trying to kill.
But he won’t get her again, not if I can help it. Royce may not think he needs a Robin to his Batman, but I can prove him wrong.
The two men from the front of the van exited, and Kenzie heard their voices as they came around the back.
“Just go with them, quietly,” Elena said. “If you fight, they punch you—or worse. Trust me.”
“Okay.” Kenzie checked her knife once more, making doubly sure it was secure, and then she braced herself as the door opened and the two brutes waved her and Elena out.
“Go. Get out,” one of them growled in stunted English.
Kenzie scooted along the floor of the van until she could stand, and then she hopped out of the van, Elena right behind her, sticking close.
“Get on plane,” the other man snapped in heavily accented English.
Elena led the way, reaching behind her and taking Kenzie’s bound hands. The connection brought her some comfort, and it seemed to give Elena a bit of courage as they climbed the steps and entered the aircraft. It was the most lavish plane Kenzie had ever seen, with pale-cream leather seats, a bedroom in the back, and a small bar near the middle.