Werewolves of Chicago: Curragh (Werewolves of... Book 6)

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Werewolves of Chicago: Curragh (Werewolves of... Book 6) Page 16

by Faleena Hopkins


  Urine trickled down the human’s pants as his lower lip trembled.

  Glancing down to Kara, Curragh asked her, “You okay to stand?” She nodded and he set her down. “But stay back. Anything can happen.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Kara told him, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” casting a quick glance to her pummeled abductor. She’d heard a groan coming from his direction. Xavier walked over and kicked the guy in the head. Kara winced and met his unapologetic look. “Thanks.” He shrugged as she kneeled down to tap out Draik who rose up and stood back to watch, wondering if she could get farther than he could. “You okay?” She pointed at the blood seeping through his clothing.

  “Just reopened a couple things. I’ll heal.”

  She offered the frail man a small smile. “Is there more than one Alexander?” She glanced to Curragh. “It’s a pretty common name among Russians.”

  Surprising her, the man hesitated and shook his head, eyes darting. “Just me!”

  She jogged her chin toward Curragh and his friends. Just that little motion made her splitting headache pound harder. “If you don’t start talking, they’ll lose their patience. And I don’t think you want to see that. Why did the men who hurt Draik call someone Alexander when you weren’t there? Are you sure there isn’t another one?”

  “Why’d I have to be involved in this world,” he whispered, closing his eyes with regret.

  “You created this world,” Kara slowly reminded him, noticing the absence of an accent. “You’re the head of the Chicago mafia.” What kind of game was this guy playing? “Or are you just a decoy sent here to distract us while Viktor and the real Alexander escape?”

  Still talking to himself, he muttered, “I just wanted to have my store and get married. Have a family. Why’d this have to be my life?” His eyelids squeezed open with terror, but also sadness. “I can’t keep the secret anymore! I can’t! You were unconscious—you didn’t see it! But they’re monsters! WEREWOLVES!!” His look begged her to believe him.

  Kara remembered Bill Tutors blabbering the same thing not long ago. She looked over to Curragh to let him know she wasn’t frightened of him, like this man was. As she sent him a look of reassurance, she saw confusion on his face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I think he knew what we were before Draik shifted into his wolf.” To let her in on what happened, he explained, “Draik turned so he could surprise attack Tahl. Take him out.”

  “Tahl?” Kara followed his hand gesture to the passed out body of her abductor. “Isn’t that Dr. Peters’ friend?”

  Curragh growled, “Another sign Howard isn’t ready for us.”

  Irritated, Draik cut in, “What do you mean he knew what we were?”

  “We didn’t do anything to give it away,” Xavier said, crossing his arms across his chest. “Not until Draik busted in.”

  Draik charged the old man and shouted in his face, “How did you know what we were? How could you possibly know? You’re not one of us.” Draik sniffed around the man’s face just to be sure. “You’re not!” He rose up and demanded of Curragh and Xavier, “Who the fuck is this guy?”

  The old man whimpered, “I don’t know anything.”

  Xavier was pissed, and tired of waiting for an explanation. “You just said werewolves, monsters, blah blah blah. Don’t try and take it back.”

  Curragh joined the verbal assault with equal vehemence, “You said, there are more of them. I know you meant wolves. I’m only going to ask you once—what did you mean by more?” All eyes slammed back to the man, waiting for an answer. No one saw the door open, oh-so-quietly.

  “Vat does ‘more’ norrrrmally mean?” a sultry female voice asked the room. “Eeet means der arrrr morrrrr.” Kara shot up, while Curragh, Xavier and Draik all spun around and froze. The brunette had to be in her late fifties from the streaks of white in her hair and the wise, grey eyes, but her skin was barely wrinkled, her body tight and agile. Her disarming smile swept over everyone. “And vaht fine specimeens dey arrr!” She lazily pointed to the wolves present. Then her eyes fell on the ‘sleeping’ one, and the dead men, last. “Hmm.” She entered the room like she belonged there and they didn’t…and she wasn’t afraid.

  Kara glanced to Curragh to find him mystified. He looked in awe. Jealousy swept over her until she saw the woman’s eyes begin to glow silver, and she realized that sexy creature wasn’t a woman at all, but a female werewolf. The information was devastatingly surprising to everyone; it just had hit Kara last. It was the last thing they expected to see down here.

  The she-wolf cocked her head and pointed to Draik’s feet. “Why no shoes?” He looked down. From out of nowhere she shot a kick into Draik’s wounded body, sending him flying backward. Everyone was too distracted by her to see it coming.

  Xavier reacted first and tried to punch her. It found only air as the she-wolf ran up the wall to escape him. She landed right in front of Alexander.

  Kara backed up, jaw dropping as she realized the she-wolf had spied blood seeping through Draik’s white uniform, knew he was the most vulnerable, and that hurting him would give his friends pause. It afforded her a momentary advantage in time she would not have otherwise had, and it was fucking genius.

  From where he lay, the old man held up his hands to defend himself. “Please! Don’t! NO!!!” The she-wolf didn’t even pause. She landed the high heel of her shoe in his frontal lobe, kicking out of it then tossing off her other one, and landing facing the room as the old man gurgled blood and died behind her.

  She started laughing as Curragh pinned her, and made no effort to get up. Kara stared with her mouth dropped open. The whole room was quiet.

  “I should haff keeled hhhim long ago,” the she-wolf smiled.

  Advancing, Draik demanded, “Who is he?!”

  Xavier was with him. She smirked up at them, silent.

  Curragh yelled in her face, “WHO IS HE?!”

  Kara started to cover her ears from the ringing, but stopped. She had to hear this, because she felt completely in the dark and had a feeling they all were right there with her. All of them, except for this insanely charismatic female. She seemed to be the only one who knew what was going on.

  The she-wolf answered the question as though it were nothing. “My hhuzzbannd. Alexanderrr. Neverrr marry a hhuman.” She glanced meaningfully to Kara then stared at her as she said, “Dey vill be yorr veakesst leenk.”

  Now Kara wanted to strangle the bitch herself. She strode forward, intending to kick the woman in the face, but a team of twelve Russian men filed into the room. They’d been waiting, and their wait was over. Curragh leapt up to shield Kara against them, but he never made it. Prepared for this, the men were armed with Tazer guns. Kara shouted to Curragh, but it was too late. They were on his back, as well as on Xavier and Draik. Four men to each, they overtook them by electricity and beat them until they were out cold.

  The she-wolf lay on the ground on her side, head resting on her hand like she were watching a movie, a mysterious smile on her face.

  That’s when Kara realized it, what had eluded them all.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, “Viktor Kruglov...” The she-wolf’s silver eyes flashed over and landed on her, sharpening instantly. “…is you!” Kara felt the blood leave her face.

  The beast seemed to disappear then vaporize right in front of her, whipping her around and pinning her arms behind her back as she hissed in her ear, “He carrres about you.” She jerked her head to where Curragh lay on the ground. “How fun forrr meee.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Curragh, Xavier and Draik awoke in a cell where the walls, floor, and ceiling were all made from impervious steel. It was pitch black. There was the crease of the door, but no handle. It could only be opened from the outside.

  Furious, Curragh tried to break it by hurling his body with his considerable strength, but it was no use. He looked at his packmates, both standing near him, watching.

  Xavier said
on an exhale, “Now we know why she didn’t kill you.” He glanced to Draik, who nodded.

  He chewed the inside of his bottom lip. “She has an army of humans. How did she do that?”

  Curragh took one more try at the door and grunted. “Who cares? I don’t give a shit. She has Kara and she’s going to die at my hand.”

  “You can’t kill her,” Xavier said with solemnity. “You know that.”

  “He can if she hurts—”

  “—DON’T SAY IT,” Curragh exploded. He kicked at the door with all his might, and bellowed out in pain as his leg jammed. Xavier and Draik took a step forward. He grabbed his knee, doubled over. “It’s not broken. Just give me a minute.”

  Xavier laid a warm hand on his friend’s back. “Viktor, or whatever she calls herself, will use Kara to get you angry.”

  “It’s working,” Curragh snarled.

  “She’ll keep her alive is what I’m saying.”

  Curragh peered from under his brows. “She better hope you’re right.”

  Draik let out a deep breath and stepped over to lean against a wall. “If only we had a phone.”

  Xavier froze and looked over. Curragh rose up, the pain in his ligaments momentarily forgotten. He watched Xavier pull his phone from his pocked with cautious hope. Then his friend’s shoulders slumped back down. “No signal.”

  Draik mumbled, “Fuck.”

  Curragh slid to the floor with his back against cold steel. “Of course not. Not down here.” He started banging his head. “Smart fucking bitch to create a den below ground. Smart. Fucking. Cunt. Ass. Bitch.”

  Xavier mumbled, “If you get a concussion, you’ll be of no use to us when they open this door.”

  “What makes you think they’re going to?” Draik asked with a sneer. He knew well how evil this organization could be.

  “Because leaving us down here wouldn’t be as much fun as torturing us. You saw her face. She’s only just begun.” Xavier stared at his phone like doing so would make bars show up on the screen.

  “She could just leave us here to starve,” Draik muttered.

  Curragh shook his head and closed his eyes in an attempt to stave off the impotent rage tearing him apart inside. Through gritted teeth, he argued, “That would be killing us. If she was above our laws, she would have killed you.”

  “She wanted to send a message to stop searching for her,” Draik said, unconvinced.

  Xavier’s voice was grave. “You dead would have done a better job.”

  “She didn’t do that, though, did she?” Curragh had to admit that it gave him hope about Kara, that the she-wolf had abided the laws of Wolves. She had some semblance of a moral compass, no matter how skewed it was. There was something in her that obeyed their boundaries. But then he remembered that of course Kara wasn’t a wolf. There was no protection for her.

  He jumped off the ground and motioned to the door. “Help me knock this down. Maybe with the power of the three of us…”

  Xavier and Draik joined him and together they charged the door. It didn’t budge the first, second, or twentieth time. It never would.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  The guns trained on Kara as she bathed alone in a bathtub that could easily fit a dozen or more, made the experience all the more eerie and unnerving. The guards standing watch with their fingers on their triggers made no effort to avert their eyes. All five pairs lasciviously remained locked on her. The men were human, she guessed, but could not be sure. They were large and intimidating, but Kara’s talent for instinct told her that the she-wolf loved being the only supernatural creature in this subterranean world. Which made her think of the wolf who abducted and brought her here. What happened to him? Did he succeed in joining the ranks of those who would follow power even if that power were used to hurt all in its path?

  And for what purpose? A nice bathtub? What the fuck?

  But it wasn’t just the tub. Bill Tutors’ mansion would have blushed at the lavish art, sculpture, and medieval furnishings in this room and the one before it. What she bathed in was made of pure gold. It sat atop a heated marble floor flanked by two walls with wallpaper that was gaudy, but clearly very pricey. It looked like something out of a palace in the 1800’s.

  The she-wolf had created a home the exact opposite of its location. Though below the world, it was proudly above it, everything more costly than ninety-nine percent of human beings could afford.

  A door opened and in sauntered Viktor herself, dressed in a long gown as though ready for a ball. Her hair, pinned in a French knot, had streaks of gray through black. She wore little makeup like she knew she didn’t need it. Striking as she was, she was also frigid in appearance with brown eyes that showed no expression most of the time, and high cheekbones flanking a classic Russian nose.

  “Injoyink da show?” she smiled to her guards. A couple smirked, darting quick glances to their heroine. “Deed I zay you could look at me?” Her tone was dangerous then. They quickly focused back on Kara, as did she. “I meant you,” she said with an icy smile, and her finger floated up to point. “Arrrr you enjoyink being da show?” Kara glared at her, unwilling to give such a question the dignity of a reply. Viktor chuckled then waved her hand. “Leave us.”

  The guards filed out, immediately.

  As the door closed behind them, now more than ever, Kara wished bubbles were in the tub to conceal her nakedness. The guards were one thing, but she knew they’d been told to stay put. With this woman, or wolf, or whatever she was, Kara had learned from all of her research that there were no bounds to her cruelty.

  With a tight jaw, and her legs crossed for modesty, Kara sunk lower and peered out over the steaming water. “Hiding under a man’s name. Genius. What do they call you here?”

  The fiend smirked as a small light appeared in her eyes. “Lots of women have hidden their identity in order to get things done. And they call me Viktor. To them that is all that I am.”

  “Your accent’s gone!”

  The she-wolf continued on as if she hadn’t heard, walking around the tub in slow circles as she recited these facts: “The writer George Sand was really Amantine Dupin, but she knew in the early 1800’s that men sell books, not female authors. Petter Hagberg, AKA Brita Nilsdotter in the mid-1700’s, disguised herself and fought in a Swedish war. She was awarded a medal of bravery when discovered. And was given a pension. Unheard of but done, because she was extraordinary! Can you imagine the nerve that took? And what those men had to overcome to give her those accolades? I wish I’d been there. The same can be said of James Gray, really Hannah Snell of England and around the same time, though neither woman knew each other. Bizarre, don’t you think? A rebellious century for women. Something must have been in the air.” She paused and cocked her head. “I only use my accent for effect. I got rid of it years ago. Nothing owns me, but me.”

  “What’s your real name?”

  “Viktor Kruglov, the only name that matters now. But I must continue, because I so love this subject.” She tapped on the gold with sharp red fingernails, and continued to circle. “Denis Smith, born Dorothy Lawrence, dressed as a man to be a war reporter in World War 1. James Barry was a medical surgeon in the last decade of the 1700’s and performed the first successful cesarean section in Africa, saving both mother and child. He was born Margaret Ann Bulkley in a time when women weren’t allowed to practice medicine. There are more. Would you like to hear?”

  Without an accent, she sounded almost regal. But Kara knew what this thing was capable of. “All noble acts. That’s what they did it for. How can you compare yourself to these women?”

  The she-wolf stared at her a moment, then let her gaze lower to Kara’s private area beneath the water. She knew this cold inspection was a power play, so she removed her hands and stayed motionless, not even blinking. This seemed to impress the she-wolf, but also irritate her.

  “Do you know what I have accomplished?” she hissed, stepping closer. “Do you see how they listen to me? Have you observed th
e luxury surrounding you? Do you have any idea how much money I have at my disposal, and how many mortal men are ready and willing to do anything I ask with just a whisper from these lips?” She brushed her fingernails over her mouth. Kara didn’t move. “Say something, human,” the female beast snarled. “Say something or I’ll make you scream.”

  The face of that poor Russian woman staring off from where she lay on Kara’s sofa, covered by a small throw-blanket, would not let Kara keep quiet. With her body like a statue, she hissed back, “A woman was raped by five of your men. How, as a female could you allow that?”

  Viktor stared at her in a silent standoff. She showed no emotional reaction to the news. Did she know about what had happened? Kara couldn’t tell. Had she ordered the heinous crime? Did she know the woman?

  Finally a sickening smile spread on the she-wolf’s lips. “Men will be men. I give them a long leash to retain their loyalty.” Kara felt ill. She was staring at pure evil. “Speaking of…” Viktor said with her dead-eyed smile. She turned and shouted, “COME!”

  Only one of the guards re-entered the room. He was six-feet-tall, dark haired and muscular, like all her ‘army’ was. His blue eyes were cold, like all the guards, and his lips were tight. “Do eet,” his master ordered, accent returned.

  As he locked eyes and advanced on her, terror shot into Kara’s veins. He tore into the water fully clothed, splashing as he roughly grabbed her. She fought him as the she-wolf commanded him to bring her closer to the edge. Kara kicked and screamed, but his strength was too much for her.

  Kruglov grabbed and held her torso facing out. Holding under her armpits she clasped her hands around Kara’s breasts. Helpless, she was face-to-face with the Russian henchman. He spread her legs with his and plunged his hand under the water. She cried out for him to stop, but he ignored her. Suddenly his fingers were on the outside of her tender, lower lips.

 

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