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Draw Blood

Page 18

by Cynthia Rayne


  “And what happens, if we get outbid?” Aggie asked.

  He’d been pondering the same issue. “Let’s talk options. Number one, we can walk away. Number two, we get behind the scenes, where they’re holdin’ the girls and sneak them out.”

  Jasper shook his head. “Most likely they’ll be under guard.”

  “I agree, which brings us to our nuclear option.”

  “And what’s that?” Aggie asked.

  “We free them by force.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Jasper leaned forward. “That’s suicide.”

  Aggie glanced at him but said nothing and Ten swallowed.

  “Yes, which is why I said it’s the very last resort. Let’s not use it, okay?” He turned to Aggie.

  “We’ll only use it, if we have to.”

  Ten drove faster. “We won’t, I’ll see to it.”

  ***

  “This place could be on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, y’know, the old television show.” Jasper whistled real low. “I’m wearin’ a tux, but I feel underdressed.”

  A couple of hours later, they were at an enormous hacienda on the edge of a manmade lake. It even put Dix’s place to shame, and just like the satellite photos promised it was luxurious, by any standards.

  “Yeah, and a few miles down the road are slums.” They’d driven past a shanty town on the way here. It was revolting to see these wealthy bastards living high on the hog while people suffered all around them.

  Aggie grimaced. “It’s the haves, and the have-nots.” Evidently, he wasn’t alone in this assessment.

  The valet took their car and headed for the south lawn while they climbed the front staircase. Ten watched him park and made a mental note of the location in case they needed to make a hasty getaway. The sun was setting, and he was grateful for the cover of darkness. It might come in handy.

  "Are you ready for this?" Ten asked, offering his arm to Aggie. She looked gorgeous and he took a mental picture. One way or another, this would be their last night together.

  "Nope, not even close." She took his arm anyway, and he sighed.

  Jasper shook his head. “Me either. We’re about to attend a slave auction. What the actual fuck?”

  I know what you mean.

  Sometimes, Ten flashed back to the night in Libya, watching all of those children be sold off. It had taken everything in him, to stand down. He’d wanted to pick off every single slaver, one by one, but he’d had mission parameters to follow. Right then and there, he’d decided the military was no longer an option for him. And he’d gone into business for himself, as a freelancer of sorts, before hooking up with the mafia.

  Luckily no one heard their commentary because they were in the far corner of the patio, isolated from the perverts and predators who attended the event. They’d formed a line near the door, and a security guard patted each of them down before they were admitted to the ballroom inside.

  For a moment, he indulged in a fantasy of mowing them all down with a gun. They’d fall to the ground like toy soldiers. Letting them live was a devil’s bargain in order to save the children, one he was willing to make at this time.

  “Here, take these.” Ten handed them the earbuds and GPS trackers Vick had procured for them. “We’ll need these in case we get separated.” After doing a microphone check, they were all set.

  “Come on,” Aggie said. “Let’s do this. I’m anxious to get out of here.”

  Ten had an awful feeling the worst was yet to come.

  Once inside, they found a table in the corner. Supposedly, it was a party, but there were three or four armed men milling about with guns holstered beneath their dinner jackets. They only had handguns from what he could see, and Ten had heavier artillery, if necessary.

  There were a few dozen guests, most of them aging men. And all of the party goers wore masks so they wouldn’t be identifiable. It was a black-tie affair, and everyone was dressed up, ready to have a good time, except for the women and children being sold, of course. Waiters milled around with silver trays full of champagne and hors-d'oeuvre.

  It made him queasy.

  These people were rotten to the core, and yet they pretended to be upstanding citizens. All of them were wealthy, and they had both power and influence, and this is how they used it.

  In the center of the room, there was a small platform and a microphone attached to a podium. Soon a young brunette dressed in a ball gown walked over, and a hushed silence fell over the crowd. Like everybody else, she wore a mask to disguise her identity.

  “Welcome everyone, thank you for coming.” She paused for a round of polite applause. “I know you’re anxious to get started, so without further ado, I’ll begin.”

  A blonde in her early twenties with a bright red ball gag in her mouth was dragged onto the stage by an armed man.

  “I’ll start the bidding at $2,000. This is Nicole and she…”

  Ten refused to listen to the rest.

  He was too busy studying the woman in question. Nicole’s wrists were shackled together, and Ten rubbed his own. She wore heavy makeup and was dressed in red lingerie and high heels to the delight of the crowd who murmured in approval.

  Ten knew why the slaves had been cleaned up—to drive up the price. Buyers responded to better-looking merchandise with higher bids. A filthy woman dressed in rags wouldn’t fetch as high of a price as one decked out in frills and lace. The same way a customer wouldn’t buy an old dirty couch when they could get a fancy leather one for their living room.

  Bile rose in his throat, and he drained the glass of champagne in front of him. He gripped the flute so hard, Ten feared the glass might shatter.

  He wasn’t the only one having a difficult time. Jasper watched the scene with cold, flinty eyes, his face betraying no trace of emotion. Ten could tell he was entertaining the same fantasy of burning this whole place to the ground.

  Bidders had wooden paddles emblazoned with numbers which they raised, while the auctioneer fielded their requests. The price rapidly escalated.

  Aggie jerked her head away from the platform and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “We can’t save them all.”

  She shook her head. “I know, but…”

  “Stop. We have to play the part, and we’re a couple looking for a pet.” Ten whispered the words to her.

  “A pet?” She swallowed. “This is—”

  “Horrific? I know, but we don’t have much choice.”

  Everything about this was wrong. His conscience prodded Ten to do something about it. Hmph, and I didn’t think I had one anymore.

  Ten followed the direction of the auctioneer’s gaze. Every once in a while, she glanced at a man seated at a table in the front of the room. He would give her a subtle nod now and then as though she were seeking his approval, or he was giving her non-verbal direction. Ten couldn’t see the man’s face, but he had broad shoulders, dark brown hair, and he appeared to be fit.

  This must be Santiago. Gotcha asshole.

  Ten might not be able to save everyone, but that dickhead wouldn’t be making it out of this shindig alive, either. He hadn’t told Jasper or Aggie what he intended to do, but he couldn’t let the Santiago walk away from this unharmed, not after what he’d done to Aggie, Polly, and his other victims.

  “Sold for $12,000!” The auctioneer called, pointing to a smiling man in the back. “You can collect her at the end of the evening around the rear of the property. We have an old wine cellar we’re using as a warehouse.”

  Another bound and shackled woman was hoisted on the stage. Like the other one, she was put on display, turning around and around so the sellers could see her from every angle. Two men competed for the right to own her and she was eventually sold for $10,000.

  Memories came flooding back. So long ago, when he’d been huddling in that basement, barely surviving, two pedophiles dickered over his price. Paul and Frank had finally settled on one. It had been demeaning to be sold like an animal, to know how little you
r life was supposedly worth.

  He could see the same shame and humiliation on the women’s faces as they were sold off one by one, like pretty little dolls. Ten felt it himself, deep in his bones, it had become part of his DNA.

  Ten shivered, shaking it off.

  “Next up, we have a special treat—a pair of sisters, and I know some of you are very fond of such delights.” Her smile made his skin crawl. “So this lot is a bit unusual. The girls are being sold together, as a set.” Again, the spectators murmured in approval.

  Luna and Maria were herded on stage. At least they hadn’t been dressed in anything salacious. Instead, they wore innocuous frilly dresses, the kind children wore for Easter or Christmas pictures. They’d both been gagged by scarves. Tears dribbled down their cheeks, and they clung to each other, seeking comfort, but they couldn’t scream or cry out for help.

  There were lascivious leers from some of the men in the crowd. How could these people be so depraved?

  Aggie reached for his hand and gripped it, her knuckles going white. Ten wanted to get out of his chair and start shooting, send all of these twisted freaks scattering like ants at a picnic.

  To distract himself from the homicidal thoughts, he kept an eye on Aggie, and he could see the shock on her face. He knew how dirty it made a person feel, as though other people’s sleaziness somehow wore off on you.

  There are some things you can’t un-know or un-see.

  They become part of you, slip into your subconscious, ready to jump out when a person least expects it, like a sniper.

  “We’ll start the bidding at $5,000,” the auctioneer said.

  Santiago’s business acumen was diabolical. Together, the girls would fetch a higher price than apart, due to the depraved appetites in the room.

  Ten raised his paddle and two tables over, a man called his bid. Then another elderly buyer in the front raised his paddle. They ping-ponged back and forth, raising the price.

  The price shot up from there.

  “I now have $15,000 as the going bid.” She caught Ten’s gaze, and he raised the paddle. “Make it $16,000.” Once again, the old man upped the ante. “$19,000.”

  “$20,000.” In the rear of the room, a middle-aged man stood who had a phone pressed to his ear. Evidently, he was bidding for someone who wasn’t even there.

  Damnation, this is gettin’ too rich for my blood.

  Ten met the price.

  The auctioneer smiled. “$20,000 is the new bid.” Immediately, the senior citizen raised his paddle.

  Fuckin’ hell. Sweat dribbled down his brow. They were dangerously close to his upper limit.

  The auctioneer glanced at the man on the phone.

  “$25, 000,” he called.

  Goddammit. I’m officially tapped out.

  Ten groaned. “We got a problem. I don’t have enough money to cover the cost.” If he hadn’t sunk so much cash into Poison Fruit, he’d have more available, but things were lean until profits went up.

  The auctioneer glanced at Ten and then the old pervert in askance, but both of them shook their heads.

  “Oh God, I’m gonna have to tell Sofia her daughters went to the highest bidder.” Aggie brought a fist to her mouth and puffed out her cheeks, as though she was going to be ill.

  “This isn’t over yet.” Ten worried Aggie might try something foolish and get herself killed in the processed.

  Finally, the auctioneer slammed the gavel on the podium. “$25,000 for the pair. Congratulations, sir. You can claim your prize later.”

  “Turns out, we’ll have to do this the hard way.” Aggie leaned over and there was a wicked gleam in her eyes. The bloodlust burned bright.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “How do you wanna handle this?”

  They were standing outside the mansion, by the doors. No one had made a move toward the warehouse or wine cellar, or whatever the crap they were calling it, including the man who’d been on the phone.

  After the evening concluded, people were milling around the room finishing off the crab puffs and downing the rest of the champagne.

  Frankly, Aggie hoped they choked on it.

  She glanced at Ten, waiting for his answer, but he appeared to be deep in thought.

  When she wasn’t watching the pervert who’d bought Luna and Maria for a pedophile, she kept an eye on Santiago. Ten had pointed him out to her earlier. Like every other man, he wore a tuxedo. No doubt he’d paid for it with the sale of children. Aggie would love nothing better than to blow a hole clean through it.

  They had a score to settle. Any second now, his bill is comin’ due.

  But they had to play this carefully. If they hurried off in a group, someone might suspect they were up to something.

  So Jasper had quietly pulled the car out to the far lot, near the rear of the property. Once it was done, he contacted them on the com and reported his progress. Jasper would watch and see if anyone approached the wine cellar as well as give them the lay of the land, so they knew what to expect.

  Ten finally spoke up. “I want you to slip away and wait for me in the woods. We’ll come and get you after all of this is over.”

  Nice try.

  “Ten, you aren’t side-linin’ me. We both know you need my help.” She bit her lip. “I promise I won’t do anythin’ stupid.”

  “I don’t believe you, especially after what you said yesterday.”

  Aggie regretted scaring Ten, but she wouldn’t let Polly and Coop die in vain, no matter what the cost.

  “I’ll take care of Santiago, and you get the kids.”

  Ten shook his head. “No, Aggie.” This time, he couldn’t hide behind those shades, and she could read the anguish in his eyes.

  “Please, Ten, they need you.” She grasped him by the lapels and pulled him down to smother his objections with kisses. “They might as well be in a bunker,” she said, against his lips, “I’ve never breached such tight security before, but I bet you have.”

  “Yes, I’ve gotten into compounds before.” His voice was raspy and hoarse with suppressed emotion.

  “Then you can get in and out of there with the children.” Aggie was trying to appeal to his rational side, the soldier. “Santiago will run out of here at the first sign of trouble and I can’t let him get away. And neither can you.”

  “No. No way, absolutely not. I don’t want you to do this.”

  “Look, I can’t go all Rambo on them, but you can. You kept hintin’ you had the tools to handle a full-on assault, so do it. In a few hours, they’re going to ship those children off to God knows where. This is our last chance to save them.”

  Ten sighed, but he didn’t contradict her. Instead, he pulled back to gaze down at her, as though memorizing every square inch of Aggie’s face.

  She’d seen the way the auction had affected him—his disgust, the way his lips curved into an almost imperceptible snarl. No doubt all kinds of buried memories had surfaced, plaguing his thoughts.

  Who knows? Freeing those children might help him in some way. No one had come for him, but he had a chance to save someone else.

  “I can’t talk you out of this, huh?”

  “Nope, so save your breath.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.” Ten gripped her shoulders. “Aggie, before we start, we should discuss a thing or two.”

  “I know what you’re gonna say.” If Aggie allowed herself to think this through, to even hope for a future with Ten, she wouldn’t have the nerve to go through with this operation.

  He sucked in a breath. “Fair enough. We’ll talk about it later. It’s best to keep our heads in the game anyway.”

  Ten reached into his left cowboy boot and grabbed a silencer. “Here use this. You’ll have to watch out for his guards, at least until Jasper and I breach the warehouse, then they’ll be after our asses instead of yours.”

  “How’d you hide it from the guards?”

  He winked. “They didn’t think to check the boots. Keep low and use the cars for
cover. Don’t shoot unless you have to, or you’ll give up the element of surprise.”

  “Got it. Any other parting advice?” She could use a tip or two.

  Ten kissed her fiercely, and she closed her eyes, clutching him, saying goodbye. And then he released her, even though it clearly pained him.

  “Yeah, don’t die, Giselle.”

  “You either.”

  ***

  “You’d better get your ass over here,” Jasper said in his ear.

  “What’s up?”

  Ten was making his way to the wine cellar. He was so worried about Aggie he couldn’t see straight, but he knew she couldn’t be stopped, no matter what he said. At one time, he’d lusted for vengeance, too. And he hadn’t been satisfied until he’d quenched it.

  Goons were swarming the grounds, and Ten offered them smiles as he went by because he didn’t want to raise any suspicions. As far as they were concerned, he was taking a leisurely stroll.

  “The phone pervert is headin’ inside. I repeat the phone perv is active.”

  Ten rolled his eyes. “You’ve watched Top Gun, one too many times, haven’t you?”

  “Maybe. You should see this wine cellar. It’s partially submerged in the ground without any windows, and there’s only one entrance.”

  “Yup, they couldn’t have picked a worse location to stage a rescue.” Ten knew exactly what the structure looked like. He’d studied the satellite photos for hours. “Did you park near the rear of the lot, like I told you? By the woods?”

  “Who do you think you’re talkin’ to? That idiot Rebel?”

  “Fair enough. Do me a favor, and pop open the trunk. I stashed some goodies inside.” Ten waited for him to find it.

  “Shut the front door!” Jasper crowed in satisfaction. “You’ve got all the best toys. Ten, you’ve been holdin’ out on me.”

  He’d hidden two AK-47s, plenty of ammunition, grenades, flash bangs, along with flak jackets and other useful items. They’d disappear into the trees and gear up, and then the fun would begin.

  “One question.”

  “What about the military and CIA?” Ten asked.

 

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