Dagger in the Sea

by Cat Porter

  “Let go of me,” came a heavily accented reply. “Eh! Stop!”

  I darted into the men’s room. Luca had the skinny dark guy in the cheap suit up against the wall by the sinks, a hand cuffing his throat. “You don’t tell me what to do, I tell you what to do,” Luca’s voice sneered. “Where are you from? Albania? Moldavia? Georgia?”

  “Athens!”

  “Fuck off.” He tightened his hold on the guy’s neck, his hard gaze darting to me and back to his victim. “This is a private party. How did you get in, past the guards?”

  “A friend of mine, he cleans here. He let me in.”

  Luca got in the guy’s face, his brow a fierce ridge. “I warned you before to leave, but you didn’t listen. You have no right to even lick my shoes.”

  “You—”

  In a swift snap of movement, Luca shoved the guy down on the floor, his foot on his chest. Luca went off in Italian, yammering away, kicking him once, twice, three times, the blood gushing and spilling from the guy’s face.

  “Lick it, lick my shoe.” Luca’s foot hovered over the guy’s face. Luca kicked him in the side and shoved his other foot over his face once more. “Lick!”

  The guy raised his head, his tongue hanging out, inches from the sole of Luca’s expensive leather shoes. A flash of black from the stalls had my hand going to my holster, but I wore no holster, had no gun.

  Fuck.

  “Behind you!” I yelled.

  From his back, Luca brandished a gun, aiming at the man rushing toward him from the stalls.

  “Move and you die,” Luca spit out. He kicked the other’s guy’s face and lifted his chin at me. I jammed my foot into the guy’s chest, keeping him down as he groaned, bled, his head lolling.

  Luca shoved his gun into the head of the other guy, pushing him onto the floor to his knees next to his buddy. “You’re lucky this is my brother’s party and I don’t want to fuck it up for him with your blood making a mess all over this fancy bathroom. Who sent you?”

  “N-Nobody.”

  Luca’s voice seethed. “Tell me who you work for.”

  “I don’t work for nobody, okay? We heard about this party, we came to sell. Many people here—rich people.”

  “And did you sell anything?”

  Two shaking fingers rose. “Two only.”

  “That’s too bad.” Luca took a step back and bashed the guy in black across the face with his gun, and the guy collapsed onto the tiled floor in a heap.

  Luca sniffed in air and tilted his head, stretching his neck. He went to the bank of sinks, turned on the faucet, pumped out soap and washed his hands, inspecting his face in the mirror. “You left Adri for me? I’m touched.”

  “I spotted him earlier.” I rifled through the pockets of both men, found baggies with packaged pills and powder and handed them to Luca. “Saw the two of you arguing, then saw him in here.”

  “Motherfucker was trying to sell his shit.”

  “Keeping your brother’s party clean, Luca? Now I’m touched.”

  He held my gaze as he sniffed at the contents of the baggies and dumped them in the sink under running water, rinsing out the baggies, throwing them away. He washed his hands again, pulled at a towel and rubbed them dry. We went back out to the party which was in a full rage. The place was packed. “I’ll let a security guard know we had some trouble in the men’s room,” I said. “I’m heading over to your uncle’s table where I had your security guard bring Adriana.”

  Luca nodded as we wove through the crowd. Something told me to keep watch on our periphery. I scanned to my left and right as we were jostled by dancers and gawkers holding enormous cocktails. Enormous shiny pink and gold champagne bottles flew by. The music boomed, strobing lights flashed. I found a security guard and let him know about our trouble in the men’s room. He scowled and immediately notified his compadres on his two way radio.

  Luca and I made it to Gennaro’s table, and the moment I spotted Adriana, I let out the breath I’d been holding onto. Photographers snapped her non-stop as celebrity friends, acquaintances, fans, and wannabe’s posed with her, everyone showing off their Alessio jewelry for the cameras. After Alessio, Adriana was tonight’s next best attraction and she was making the most of it. I caught her eye and winked, her lips tipped up at me and she seamlessly slid back into another photo op pose.

  Theo, the publicist, was in a deep conversation with Gennaro, Miguel standing watch on the other side of them. Our eyes met as we both scanned the area repeatedly.

  Luca danced with a girl in the press of the crowd before the stage. Alessio, with his arm slung around one of his models, came over and they sat in one of the small sofas by the table. Adri only glanced at them quickly and went back to being interviewed by a journalist without missing a beat.

  These two, what the fuck?

  I kept my eyes on Luca. He had moves, dancing slower than the girl, than the music, but somehow still in the beat. The music turned over into a new song, and he took the girl’s hand and they pushed their way off the dance floor. She stopped to talk to someone and he kept going toward one of the bar areas. Movement in a diagonal headed straight for him entered my sightline. A prickle razored over my neck, my pulse ticked. A man headed right for Luca, his hand clenched in a fist—no, he was holding something. I charged toward him.

  I pulled Luca by the arm out of the way, and his eyes flashed at me, jaw a tight blade. Turning, I shot out my knee into the man’s stomach, and he doubled over on a grunt. Twisting his arm behind him, I pulled him off the dance floor, Luca and I dragging him into a grouping of palm trees, shoving him up against the spiky bark. He grunted, his grip loosening on the small knife in his hand and I grabbed it, pressing it into his throat.

  Luca searched him for more weapons. “Are there any more of you?”

  The guy’s face curled into a creepy grin. I slashed at his flesh, and he jerked in my grip, letting out a loud, panicked hiss. His blood slicked over my fingers.

  “Answer the man,” my voice simmered as I twisted my fist in his gut.

  His dark eyes flared. “No! No!”

  Two of the club security guards surrounded me. “Deal with this piece of shit before we attract any more attention.” I released the guy and he fell to the ground, clutching at his throat, gasping loudly. Luca’s face remained set in grim lines but a smile curved his lips as the men hauled the bleeding guy off.

  “You were right,” I said.

  Luca raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

  “You need me.”

  His face suddenly relaxed and he let out a laugh, smacking a heavy hand on my back. “I have good instincts, Turo.”

  “You were out on the dance floor to attract more attention if there was more attention to attract, weren’t you?” I said.

  His lips curled.

  “What’s happened?” Adri stood before us. A vision from another world in shimmery white and silvery lilac under the strobe of the lights, and I blinked at her glittering diamond gorgeousness. Her face was stricken, anxiety marring her features.

  “Luca doesn’t know how to make friends,” I said. “It’s over.”

  Her gaze darted to Luca then back to me. To my hands stained with blood. Her eyes widened, her lips parting. I grabbed a towel from the hip of a passing waiter and wiped it off.

  “What’s happening? What aren’t you telling me?” Her voice trembled.

  I dumped the towel and grabbed her elbow, guiding her back to the table.

  “What is going on?” Her face tightened as we tracked through the crowd.

  “Someone wanted to get to Luca, but I got to him first.”

  “As I said, you have skills.”

  “Are you done for the night?” I asked her.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d prefer to get you back on the boat.”

  Alessio stood by the table watching us with that same model on his arm. Adriana muttered something harsh in Greek under her breath and grabbed a flute of champagne from the
fresh batch a waitress was setting on the table.

  Up on the stage, Kaspar was in another zone, in sync with the crowd, with the music he was creating. The high priest conjuring magic at his altar. Showers of champagne spouted and sprayed from those huge bottles. Laughter and shouts, singing. Colored lights streaked over hundreds and hundreds of faces. The Lord Sorcerer had his subjects in his thrall.

  I moved toward Alessio. “Alessio—I want her back on the yacht. Now.”

  He slanted his head. “What the hell was all that with my brother?”

  “That was Luca’s problem. My only concern is keeping Adri safe.”

  Alessio’s ground his jaw. “Take my uncle and Miguel with you. I’ll call the crew for the launch.” He got on his cell phone.

  I gestured at Miguel, and he hustled over. I let him know what happened and that he and I would be taking Gennaro and Adriana back to the yacht.

  He smoothed a hand down his formidable chest. “Let’s roll.” He went over to Gennaro, interrupting his lively conversation with two young women, and spoke in his ear. Alessio and Luca argued in Italian in low tones.

  I leaned into Adri. “We’re going back to the boat. Say your goodbyes.”

  “I’m ready.” Adri put down her empty glass, and we headed for the beach along with Miguel and Gennaro. She came to an abrupt halt and ripped off her high-heeled sandals, and we continued down the sandy shore to where the small boat waited. A busboy trailed behind us, holding a crate filled with bottles of pink and gold champagne.

  Luca caught up with us. He was alone. Did Alessio tell him to leave?

  The boat propelled us back to the Allegra over smooth dark waters, the music a thumping haze behind us. Finally, the launch came up against the yacht’s bumpers, the two crew members on board pulling on her ropes, steadying her. Gennaro and Miguel got off first. I took Adri’s hand and led her to the edge.

  “No, no,” came Luca’s gravelly voice. “You two are coming with me.”

  “Ti?” Adriana said. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been invited to a party on Evgeny’s boat.” He gestured at the white Russian mega ship anchored beyond the cove, not too far from us. “Special party. Very special.”

  “Have a great time,” I bit out. “We’re not interested.”

  Luca muttered in Italian to the crew, and the rope was immediately tossed back at the launch. “Sit. Down,” he said, his voice low.

  “Luca!” I gritted out.

  “Don’t you still want to make a deal for your boss, Turo? You will get that chance, si, Zio Gennaro?” he said loudly to his uncle who stood on the deck of the Allegra watching us.

  “Si.” Gennaro eyed me. He gave us a slight wave and put a hand on Miguel’s arm. They turned and disappeared into the yacht. My gut knotted.

  “I’ll come with you,” I said. “But not Adri. Adri stays on the Allegra. I don’t think Alessio would be happy to know you’ve taken her for a night out.”

  “I don’t know how happy Alessio would be about the two of you so cozy together all day and all night, eh? It’s just for a few hours. I want to enter Evgeny’s party with more than just another pretty fica on my arm.”

  I ground my teeth at his use of the term “pussy” for Adri. “Watch what you say—”

  “I want you with me, Turo. I need to re-negotiate a few terms with him. He’s very stubborn though. You have a certain reputation in Chicago. The negotiator with the velvet tongue, yes? Tell me, Adri, is his tongue that remarkable?”

  Adri let out a string of foul curses in Italian and Greek.

  “Tsk tsk.” Luca let out a soft rolling laugh. “Turo, you do this for me—with Adri—and I’ll let you talk to my uncle again. And I won’t say a word to my brother about the two of you.” His tongue slid along his upper lip.

  This fucking asshole.

  “Let Adri go,” I said.

  “No.” He gestured to the boat staff with a flick of his finger and leaned back in his seat.

  The powerful twin motors kicked up, and I tugged Adri down on the seat next to mine, keeping my grip on her tight. Her breathing quickened, her legs pressed together.

  We zoomed toward the Russian mega yacht. It loomed ahead, towering over us, this floating white fortress. My heart fisted in my chest.

  Yes, it was a kingdom, a continent unto itself.

  The question was, how mad was its king?

  20

  Turo

  Behemoth. Mammoth.

  Insane.

  Those were the first words that came to mind.

  It was after three in the morning, but the party was going strong here on Evgeny’s ship. We climbed a free floating spiral staircase to an upper deck, then an elevator to another deck. There were eight decks in all. Adriana stayed close to me as we walked behind Luca through this gold-plated universe.

  “Have you been on this ship before, Luca?” I asked.

  “Not this one, no. I’ve been on the old one. Much smaller. I’ve been hearing about this ship for a while now.”

  We paused at the entrance to a gambling hall. Roulette wheels, blackjack, poker. The mood was serious, the chatter a low hum edged with the clack clack of chips, the thrip of cards, the whistle of spinning wheels. Tall, long-haired beauties in plunging neckline dresses served drinks and manned the tables. The betting level in here had to be stratospheric.

  We moved on to another room where flickering soft lights played in the darkness.

  “Hmm.” Luca’s lips tipped up as we entered the room.

  A staccato electric rhythm echoed in the room; a haunting soundtrack mimicking my thudding heartbeat. Adriana glanced at me as we moved farther into the space.

  People were gathered around a stage where two performers were singled out by a spotlight. Moans hung heavy in the darkness. Adriana’s hand skimmed mine, my insides tightening at the flash of her warmth over my skin.

  A naked woman was bound to a thick, wooden table with large cuffs and a scarf binding her mouth. The man picked up a ladle and ceremoniously poured hot liquid over her middle. Her body arched as she cried out, and the onlookers let out moans of their own.

  “W-What is that?” Adri whispered roughly, pressing into my side.

  “Hot wax,” I replied.

  “Hmm,” she whimpered, pressing her lips together. Adri’s hand brushed mine, and my fingers searched for hers. Our fingers meshed and clung, heat igniting heat.

  I’d been to sex clubs before, but on my own, not with a date. Not with a woman like Adri; a woman I gave a shit about. The desire to be her guide overwhelmed me. The need to protect her overwhelmed me.

  Another man appeared on the stage flourishing a spiked, double-headed glass dildo as if it were an impressive weapon or instrument of magic his audience should be in awe of. He stroked it between her legs, and the girl moaned and writhed. Adriana’s breathing deepened. With a dramatic groan, the man fucked the girl with his dildo. Adriana gasped, and I licked my lips at the raw, slippery sounds of sex filling the space. I squeezed Adriana’s hand and she tightened her hold right back, the two of us pressed together, breathing together, watching the girl writhe, moan, twitch, jerk. Witnessing every moment of her body coming to orgasm.

  The man raised his hands in the air, beckoning his witnesses, and they moved forward, taking turns using other, almost macabre, dildos on the girl, admiring. Touching her, touching themselves. Cum spewed on flesh. Satisfied, excited, exulted cries, and soft laughter shot around the circle.

  “Oh my G—” Adri’s voice was jagged, her body wavered.

  I wrapped my arm around her, holding her close, steadying her, and she pressed against me, small, low noises escaping her lips. The heat of her body seeped into mine and my pulse jammed in my neck.

  “Turo,” she breathed.

  My cock tightened in my trousers at the sound of my name on her lips, my heart thundered in my chest. That was what need sounded like. Raw, unapologetic, undisguised need.

  I know, baby, I know.
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  My fuck switch had been turned on, but as I tightened my grip on Adri, I gripped my fierce arousal even harder, like a steering wheel in a race car I was commandeering. I wanted nothing more than to take her mouth, rip at her dress, feel her body shudder under my hands. But I had to stay sane. Anything could happen at any time on this crazy vessel in the middle of the sea, and it already had.

  I ground my jaw, my gums aching, balls throbbing. Adriana’s hand swept up my middle and stroked back and forth, back and forth, her breathing choppier than before. Our gazes locked in the half light, her blue gray eyes molten ink.

  Luca turned to us and winked. The fuck.

  The back of my throat burned. Luca had an endgame in mind here, I was sure of it, and we were his pawns. We were at the mercy of an Aliberti. I planted a tense kiss on Adriana’s forehead, and she let out a low moan, her arms snaking around my waist. Most of all, I was at her mercy.

  Other spotlights deeper in the room revealed women and men strung up on St. Andrew’s crosses, ball gags in their mouths, being whipped dramatically. A woman was bound to a bench and being caned. Adri flinched at the sounds—the woman crying out, the thrash of the cane, at the harsh red marks blistering white flesh. The most popular seemed to be two women with masks over their eyes bound tightly, legs up, with small electrodes attached between their legs, on their nipples. Laughing, people took turns zapping, making them come repeatedly. Others only watched as they got serviced by their companions—given head, stroked. Evgeny Berezin knew how to put on an extravaganza, a three dimensional spectacle.

  There were no rules, no good, no bad, no do or don’t. Only one thing. Take. The only thing that mattered was the intensity of your satisfaction and the thrill of reaching for more.

  Another softer light suddenly flickered on and illuminated a low cushioned leather platform in the shape of an X on which two naked couples danced. An erotic acrobatic ballet. Licking, rubbing, humping; a choreographed tangle of limbs and moans. A blur of sensation.

  One of the female dancers rose from the pile of flesh and went to a man and danced before him, pulling him over to the cushions. Magnetized, the audience immediately followed to witness whatever would follow, to engage in more. A couple brushed past us, stumbled over to the sofa and started to screw, and another to kiss and clutch, and another.