You're So Vein

by Christine Warren

  No one wanted to blow up Wadsworth House, of course—that would leave a pretty conspicuous hole in the neighborhood that might be hard to explain—but Noah had the skill to set off any number of different explosions, from ones that blew out an area no bigger than a door lock to ones that could blow the entire island into pieces that would rain down over southern Connecticut and northern New Jersey for days. They all hoped the only explosions they needed tonight would be in the first category.

  When all the team members had suited up, Graham gathered them around and went over the plan. The Silverback team, led by Noah, would enter the house secretly through an old trap door that Rafe had discovered on a set of historic plans of the building. It had been sealed off since the mid-1800s, but the toys in Noah’s pack would make short work of that problem. He even had a few that didn’t make noise, although those weren’t his favorites by any means. Once inside, they would sweep through the basement, picking off any troops Yelizaveta had with her and securing Ava’s safety. Two of the men would break off and escort her to safety while the others continued to clear the building from the bottom up, eventually joining Dima, Misha, Rafe, and Graham upstairs to secure the capture of the primary target, Yelizaveta Chernigov. It would not be the neat and tidy capture Dima had planned on, but it would work and it would put this mission behind him so that he could concentrate on more important things. Like his future with one intensely infuriating woman.

  “Is everyone clear?” the Alpha asked, getting a series of decisive nods in return.

  “All righty then.” Noah grinned, gesturing with his rifle for the Lupines to follow him. “Let’s get this party started, ladies!”

  Dima watched the expertly trained men blend into the shadows and took a deep, calming breath. Every single one of the Lupines Graham had picked for this team had extensive military or police training, and by the time they were halfway down the block, Dima had a hard time picking them out from their surroundings. They were all very good at what they did, and if he could trust Ava’s safety to anyone, he could trust it to them.

  But that didn’t mean he liked trusting it to anyone but himself.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see his brother watching him with dark, sympathetic eyes, but those eyes didn’t encourage him to be afraid; they imparted a strength and solidarity that had Dima’s spine straightening and his lips firming in resolve. He nodded at the other men.

  “You heard the human,” he said, turning to face the path to the mansion. “It’s time to take care of a small piece of business, gentlemen. If you’ll all follow me?”

  As one, four tall, powerful men of The Others strode forward, shoulder to shoulder, ready to take on the world for the only two things in it that mattered: justice and love.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The damn stubborn knots just wouldn’t come loose. Ava worked on them until her fingertips went numb, but she just couldn’t get enough leverage in her position to take any of the strands in a tight enough grip. Without a good grip, loosening the ties was impossible. She needed another plan, and quickly. A glance at the candle on the table nearby told her that her time with any kind of light source was running out.

  At least she had two things to be happy about: First, the pounding in her head had settled down to a dull throb, so that she didn’t stir up a wave of nausea every time she moved her skull so much as an inch in any direction; and second, she had remembered an old documentary she had watched on the National Geographic Channel that had discussed the method by which embalmers in ancient Egypt had used an instrument made of heavy wire—much like a modern coat hanger, the narrator had pointed out—and bent into a hook at one end to remove the brains of those being mummified by pulling them down and out of the nose. She had decided that would make a lovely way to kill Dima for cutting her off the way he had. She couldn’t wait to get home and pick up her dry cleaning so she would have the appropriate materials to get to work.

  Craning her head, she made another examination of the ropes binding her and caught a glimpse of the wine rack behind her. Her brow furrowed. It was hard to judge distance from this angle—upside down and flat on her back—but she was guessing the cot was no more than about two feet away from the rack. She wouldn’t have much room to maneuver.

  Provided, of course, that what she was planning was possible outside of Olympic gymnastics and Cirque du Soleil.

  Taking a deep breath and offering a silent apology to the tailoring gods, Ava wrapped her hands around the rope that bound them and pulled it tight. Using the pressure this generated as leverage, she contracted her abdominal muscles tightly, hoped her trainer was worth his money, and began to pull her lower body up off of the mattress. Tucking her knees up close to her forehead, she reflected that she hadn’t exactly been thinking of situations like this when she started taking yoga five years ago, but when she felt the toes of her boots brush against the wood of the wine rack, she didn’t suppose her intent mattered. All that mattered was that all the blasted flexibility she’d hammered into her body was about to come in handy.

  Strangely, it was her back and not her abs that protested the strange position of her body. It grumbled out a warning when she shifted a couple of inches toward the foot of the cot, flexed her feet, and did a backward somersault off the head and onto the stone floor of the chamber.

  The small amount of play in the rope allowed her to shift her shoulders, wriggle her wrists, and end up with only that last joint bent at an awkward angle. As far as Ava was concerned, that spelled complete success. Bending her head, she set her teeth to the rope that bound her and began to pick the knots apart with her teeth. Her dentist might kill her the next time he saw her, but then again, once he got a look at her new fangs, maybe he’d offer her a sugar-free lollipop instead.

  When the butler opened the door to Wadsworth House, a flicker of surprise showed beneath his blank mask. It was there for only an instant, but Dima caught it, and it gave him a small sense of satisfaction. The man could probably get thrown out of the butlers’ union for that, and Dima would only laugh and point.

  “We’re here to see your mistress,” Misha informed him brusquely. “You may take us to her.”

  The fact that the butler did not ask their names or tell them to wait while he announced them told Dima that Yelizaveta had been expecting them. That was fine, because she wouldn’t be expecting the outcome.

  They were led a few paces down the hall to a set of double doors with leaves and berries carved around the edges of the heavy panels. The butler didn’t knock or hesitate, merely pushed the doors open and ushered the gentlemen through. He did not follow but closed the door behind them with a distinct snap. The second snap, Dima concluded, had been the sound of a key turning in the lock. Yelizaveta, it seemed, planned for them to stay awhile.

  Even though he’d gotten Ava’s impressions of horrified amusement when she had first stepped into this room, they hadn’t prepared him for the sheer scope of the ego that the decor betrayed. It also hadn’t informed him that he would recognize the floor plan as an improvised copy of Yelizaveta’s father’s great hall outside of Smolensk. She had arranged the furniture around a dais at one end, just as her father had, and had placed the largest chair she could find atop the elevated spot like a throne.

  Kazimir of Chernigov, Dima recalled, had possessed enough ambition to rule all Russia but less intelligence than it required to rule his own family. Although the official story had him dying at the hands of an assassin sent by a foreign king afraid of Kazimir’s power, Dima suspected that the truth lay a little closer to home. Like in the hands of his only son and Yelizaveta’s older brother, Stepan. A dagger, Dima assumed, in the back. The Chernigovs, after all, loved tradition.

  Another echo of Kazimir’s hall was the two dozen guards who encircled their leader’s dais, swords and axes and maces at the ready. Clearly, they intended to do this old school. The image sent a pang of nostalgia arrowing through Dima’s chest. Sometimes, he missed the gory
old days.

  “Ah, finally you have come to visit, old friends,” Yelizaveta greeted them in Russian with an open sweep of her arms and a smile as treacherous as the sea. “I was afraid that you intended to ignore me forever. ‘Did their mothers teach them no manners?’ I asked myself. And then I remembered: Their mothers had been useless whores!”

  Her laughter tinkled through the room. Dima felt Misha beside him, felt the tension in his body, and somehow his outrage was tempered by the knowledge that his brother shared it.

  “You’re not going to goad us into rash action with insults, Liza,” Misha answered in English, his deep voice carrying easily across the ballroom. “And you are the one displaying bad manners. Two of your guests do not speak our language. You should address us in ways the entire company can understand.”

  Her mouth formed a little moue of annoyance. “You are such a taskmaster, Misha darling,” she said. In English, this time. “But I will humor you. After all, you do not have much longer to live.”

  “I’m afraid you are mistaken about that.”

  “I don’t see how. I wanted you to come here so I could kill you. You came here, and now I will kill you.” She shrugged. “It is really very simple.”

  Rafael stepped forward, drawing Yelizaveta’s eyes. They promptly widened. The Felix tended to have that effect on women. His wife, Tess, often complained that he got whistled at on the street more often than she did. Something about his dark hair, dusky complexion, and bright, feline green eyes drew women like hummingbirds to sugar water. Or maybe it was his inherent grace, and the old-world charm he wielded like a weapon. Either way, it appeared not even a half-sane vampire was immune.

  “Well, hello,” Yelizaveta purred, brushing her guards out of the way so that she could step down off the dais and stalk toward him. “Now this is a real shame, that we haven’t met before, Mr. De Santos.” She approached within a few feet of the men and stopped to bat her eyelashes at the Felix. “It is Mr. De Santos, isn’t it? I’ve heard so much about you, and I have to say the rumors didn’t even do you justice.”

  Rafe gave a courtly little half bow, and Dima wondered how he managed it without choking. “Miss Chernigov—” he began.

  She stopped him, her smile going tight for a second. “Princess,” she corrected. “Yelizaveta. Please. Let’s not be so formal and stuffy.”

  “Princess,” he acknowledged. “It is quite an event to finally meet you. Your reputation precedes you.”

  “Oh, I hope you haven’t been listening to these two naughty boys. I’m sure they would like to tell you all sorts of horrible things about me, but I’m certain that the truth would leave you stunned.”

  “Is that so?” Graham asked, his expression bland but for one archly raised eyebrow. “Please, you’ll have to share it with us. The truth, that is.”

  Yelizaveta barely spared the Alpha a glance. Instead she stepped closer to Rafe and held her hands out in entreaty. “You look like a man who understands freedom, who values it. These monsters”—she pointed at Dima and his brother—“want to see me imprisoned. Locked in a cage for the rest of eternity! A civilized person wouldn’t treat an animal so poorly, let alone a woman.”

  Dima growled, “Your ‘cage’ has twenty-seven rooms, all the modern amenities available to mankind, and a staff of thirteen, plus guards, highness,” he mocked. “I’m sure there are many in this world who would trade their lives for yours in an instant.”

  Her eyes narrowed at him. “I don’t care what they would do, ublyudok. I care that the European Council has no right to pass judgment over me, let alone to imprison me forever with no hope of release.”

  “You wouldn’t be in prison if you hadn’t killed a prince, Liza,” he pointed out. He didn’t mind being called a bastard. He’d been called worse. By the woman he loved, in fact. “You killed more than one. And humans. And probably others we don’t know about. I’d say that the punishment perfectly fits the crimes.”

  “You know nothing,” she hissed, dropping her hand and her act of sweetness and light. She stepped back away from the men and called her guards to her with a flick of a finger. “But it hardly matters. Because soon enough, you’ll be nothing. Just an unpleasant memory to be erased with vodka and merriment.”

  She raised her hand, preparing to send the guards into attack, but Rafe’s voice stopped her.

  “Not so quickly,” he said, easing forward so smoothly, you could barely tell he was moving. “I have a feeling there are things we could offer you that might make it worth your while to keep us alive, Princess. At least some of us.”

  Dima could see interest flicker in the vampire’s eye and silently urged the Felix on. He had caught the woman’s interest. All he needed to do was keep it for a few more minutes, just to buy them some time. The twenty-four guards in the room were too much for the four of them to handle on their own. If the guards had been human it would have been different, but these were vampires, and not just vampires but trained warriors. Yelizaveta never went anywhere without some, so Dima knew they would be skilled fighters. At the moment, the odds were in favor of the bad guys, but once Noah and his squad made it up to the first floor, things would even out. Noah only had nine men with him, and two of those would be getting Ava out, but the twelve of them could easily handle the twenty-four vampires. Two against one were odds Dima liked; six against one were not.

  “If you were to kill all of us now,” Rafe continued, inching forward, not steadily but whenever he saw her interest pique, “you would get rid of the Russians, but you would lose the opportunity for so much more.”

  She raised her chin and tilted her head, clearly listening. “How much more? What else can you promise me, Feline?”

  The man smiled the jaguar’s smile. “I am head of the Council of Others, Princess. I can promise you many things.”

  “List them,” Yelizaveta ordered, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping a slipper-clad foot rhythmically against the polished wood floor. “If any of them interest me, I might allow you to live.”

  Rafe purred. “Oh, I think you’ll find what I have to say very, very interesting.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The first thing Ava did when the ropes slid free was dash over to the little table and light a second candle from the flame of the first. She made it just in time. Even as she lifted the second candle away, the first one guttered itself in hot wax and went dark.

  The second thing she did was lean over and vomit onto the stone floor; and that was when she discovered one of the most important parts of being a vampire—when you stopped eating solid food, vomit became meaningless. There was really nothing in her stomach to come up.

  Clutching the candle in one hand and her aching head in the other, Ava crept toward the chamber door and pressed her ear against the thick wood. She didn’t hear anything.

  At least not until the door was yanked away from her head and she tumbled out into the dark corridor with a squeak of surprise. When she saw the man who had opened the door, her fear morphed immediately into confusion.

  “Noah?” She did a double take, then another one for good measure. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He pressed a finger to his lips in the universal signal for quiet and nudged her back into the room she’d just left. When he’d shut the door behind him, she saw him lift a hand to the sleek black earphone he wore and press a button twice. Three seconds later, she heard a double clicking sound, and Noah turned his attention back to her.

  “We’re here to get you out,” he said, his voice low and nearly soundless, less carrying than a whisper. “Marc and Geo are going to be here in a minute. When they get to you, do exactly what they say. They’re going to lead you out the way we came in and take you back to the club. You’ll be safe there until the rest of this is over.”

  “Get me out? Wait at the club till this is over?” Ava had no idea if she could keep her voice that low, so she didn’t even try. She spoke normally, if a bit angrily. “What the hell ar
e you talking about? I’m not going anywhere except back upstairs to give that bitch a piece of my mind!”

  When she tried to brush past him, he grabbed her shoulder and shook his head. “You can’t go up there. It’s too dangerous. My orders were to get you out the back way, and that’s what I intend to do.”

  She scowled at him. “I don’t care if you and your intentions plan to repave the road to hell in yellow brick. You’re not going to shuffle me out the back door so that Dima can come in the front without worrying I’ll get in his way. If she shows up here, he’ll be walking into a trap. Unless, of course, the Mega-Bitch of Moscow is already dead when he arrives.”

  Noah shook his head again, and Ava took a really good look at his face. Then she said a word in Catalan that her mother had once denied knowing, let alone teaching her.

  “He’s already here, isn’t he?” she demanded. “He’s up there right now, the bastard, and he was going to have you send me home to bed like a good little girl.” She threw up her hands and stalked toward the door. “I swear to God, when I’m done pulling his brains out through his nose, I’m going to see if I can pull his entire head out of his ass using the same methods. I might need a bigger tool, though. You know, since the damned thing’s been wedged up there so long now. It might be really stuck.”

  Again, Noah caught her before she made it back out into the hall. She glanced down at the hand on her arm and then up into his eyes. “You know I could break those fingers now, don’t you?”

  “Absolutely. And you know that I’m aware of at least ten different ways I could kill or incapacitate you with my bare hands in under ten seconds, right?”

  “Absolutely.” She waited a minute, then lifted her brow. “So what are we going to do?”