Vendetta Road

by Christine Feehan

  He reached out casually and began to pump two fingers in and out of her, feeling her body clamp down hard on him. Euphoria had him floating in arousal. His cock thickened. He felt his balls tighten. He threw back his head, letting the pleasure take him. He could smell her arousal, the scent carried on the cool breeze.

  “You ready for a cock in your sweet little pussy? In your ass? Crawl down from there, baby, come here and suck my cock if you’re scared.” He kept his fingers pumping in and out of her, while his thumb flicked her flaming clit.

  She cried out over and over, riding his fingers, her mouth wide open, her body straining with the need to climax.

  “I’ll be right here to make it good for you. You need that, don’t you? You need them all watching you. Look at them watching you. Crawl to him, baby, suck his dick. Make him feel good the way you make me feel. He wants to fuck your ass. You know how hard that makes you come when the others watch. They all need you.” He murmured it softly, all the while staring through half-closed eyes, holding her gaze captive, as his fingers moved in and out of her until she appeared nearly insane with need.

  At first, just the sound, that velvet, hypnotizing voice Ice had, added to the ferocity of Soleil’s need. Her body was on fire and she was frantic for him to put it out. Her head tossed back and forth, her body undulated, hips thrusting toward the cock he was stroking just out of her reach. He looked so sexy, his eyes half-closed, gaze locked on her with laser focus. She was so close and knew if he just touched her anywhere, she would explode.

  He didn’t. He kept murmuring something to her, and the roaring in her ears didn’t let the words penetrate at first. She didn’t care. She just wanted. Yes, she would do anything he asked of her. Anything at all. She wanted the men to look at her, to see what a sexual being she was. She liked knowing she was making them hot. She liked knowing Ice was watching out for her, putting her on display for his own pleasure.

  “Crawl to him, baby. Slide down and crawl to him on your hands and knees. Beg him to fuck you. Tell him how much you need that dick. How big it is. How perfect. You want all of them. Ask for it. Be polite. You know you need it.”

  The hand on his cock fisted tighter. Soleil could see him swelling. He was as close as she was, but . . . Her breath left her lungs and abruptly her vision cleared. He wasn’t with her. He was somewhere else, far away, locked into something that didn’t include her. She tried to hear him, to remember the things he’d said.

  Not crawl to him. Not beg him. What was he repeating so gently in that velvety mesmerizing voice? Her stomach lurched. She slowly pulled her leg from the back of the seat and sat up. Immediately the glass plug moved, sending a wave of heat through her. She grasped the flared end and removed it. Watching Ice, she stuffed the thing in the ziplock bag. His head was still thrown back, his hand working his cock.

  It was all she could do not to lean forward and take him in her mouth, but she wasn’t going to let the erotic sight throw her back into whatever scene he had created and then got lost in. She knew about childhood trauma. She’d gone to enough psychologists to pack a room. She reached for her jeans and drew them on slowly, trying to think what to do.

  “That’s right, honey. I know you’re scared. It’s all right. I’m here with you.”

  He suddenly looked directly at Soleil, staring into her eyes with his beautiful blue ones. There was so much pain there she couldn’t stand it. His hand curled around the back of her head and slowly began to force her face toward his cock.

  “It’s all right. You want him to fuck your little pussy. You need it. You’re on fire. Let him in. Let the other one have your ass.” He stroked the top of her head as if soothing her. “You can suck my cock if you need to. I’ll always let you. It will distract you.” He rubbed the head of his cock around her lips, back and forth. “We talked about this. The others are watching you. Seeing you. You’re so beautiful to them. They need you.”

  He exerted so much strength, Soleil had no choice but to open her mouth and let him push her onto his cock. He began to wipe her face with his thumb, over and over. “Don’t cry. It only hurts for a few minutes and then you’ll feel so good. I’ll make it good for you.”

  She couldn’t take her eyes from his face. It was twisted with pain. With sorrow. Even with self-loathing. She found herself wanting to soothe him. She didn’t take control, because he was already moving in her mouth, surging deep and then much more gently, alternating the strokes with various rhythms.

  “See, so much better. Suck, honey. Don’t cry. You have to stop crying. Feel that now? So much better. He’s so happy, you should see his face. Look at the others watching.”

  When he said that, to look at the others, his cock swelled, pushing at the soft tissue of her mouth, growing heavier and hotter on her tongue. She realized he did need that sometimes. Someone had conditioned him to need it. He didn’t recognize himself as a victim; he saw himself as the criminal. She wanted it over. She wanted to bring him out from the place he was in. She put effort in getting him off, unable to think of any other way to end the flashback.

  It wasn’t that hard. He was so close. Then his hands were fisting on either side of her head and he nearly jerked her off of him. His blue eyes moved over her face and, if it was possible, he went gray under his tan. She sat back on her heels and reached for her tank, pulling it over her head, ignoring the bra. She never took her eyes from his face.

  Ice rubbed his hand over his eyes and jaw and then looked at her again. Twice he opened his mouth to say something, then he just shook his head and looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry, Soleil. There’s nothing to say. Nothing. Now you know what kind of man I am.”

  She handed him his shirt. “I know I love you, honey. I know you did everything you could to help those girls.”

  He shook his head. “I traded them for Alena and Storm. If I didn’t cooperate, they would take her—take them. I had to get the girls ready for them. Convince them to cooperate and convince them they loved what was being done to them. No tears, because tears meant they weren’t into it.”

  She rubbed her finger over the teardrops dripping from his eye. “For them. For those girls. You did this for all of them.”

  “If they couldn’t cry, I couldn’t cry. I didn’t want them to have to like what was being done to them if I didn’t like it. It was so wrong, Soleil. They would arouse me when I was just a little boy, making me feel so good when they would get these girls to cooperate. They taught me how to do it. Fuck.” He spat the word and pulled his shirt over his head. “I need to show you off. I can’t stop myself. It makes me hard, but then . . .” He looked at her helplessly. “What does that make me? What did they make me into? I’m like them. Just the fuck like them.”

  She put her arms around him, bringing his head to her chest. He might not be able to cry, but the tears were burning deep. She felt them. He choked on them. “You’re not anything like them. You were a child.”

  “I grew up. Year after year. I grew and they kept up their demands because I was so fucking good at it.” He pushed into her, tightening his arms until she was afraid she would die from lack of air, but she didn’t move, just held him, wishing she could take his pain.

  “You were still a child trying to save your sister. Your brother. Trying to save those girls. Ice, you think you had a choice, but you really didn’t. If you didn’t do what they said, they would have gone after Alena and Storm and they still would have taken those girls. You know they would have. You couldn’t do anything to stop them. They were sadistic pedophiles, and they murdered your family and took away your home. You had no power.” She found herself rocking back and forth with him.

  Ice sat back, shaking his head. “I try not to think about it too much because I can’t change it. Every one of those girls is dead. After that group used them, they passed them on to others. The others were much more brutal. When each one died, I felt as if I had been the o
ne to kill them. It became harder to cooperate, and when I would resist, they would beat Storm or Alena in front of me. Sometimes they’d rape them. Over and over, in front of me. They would use Alena so brutally and I couldn’t stand it . . .”

  He lifted his head, looking straight into her eyes. His heart was breaking. Hers was as well. “I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t. I went back to doing what they demanded. When I got strong enough, I killed them, Soleil. One by one. It was the only way to stop them. I was just shy of seventeen when I got the last one.”

  He expected her to condemn him. She saw that on his face. He didn’t feel remorse for killing them, only for his part in helping get the cooperation of the girls.

  “I’m glad you did, Ice. They wouldn’t have stopped. Even if you and the others escaped, they would have found other girls to use.” She was careful of her words. “Honey, you’re shivering, and you don’t even realize it. Get your jeans on and let’s just go home.”

  “You want to stay with me? After hearing the truth? Knowing at every party I’m going to want to show you off and that could happen?”

  “I like when you show me off,” she admitted. “And if it happens, we’ll deal with it, just like we did this time.”

  He caught her face in his hands and stared into her eyes, searching for the truth. “I don’t want to share you with another man. Not ever. I don’t want another man touching you. I realized when we went on that run that I could only do this when my brothers surrounded us, not strangers. They help me protect you, and I need to know you’re safe. I wouldn’t share you with anyone, Soleil. I don’t have that urge. I swear to God, I don’t have that urge.”

  She was very relieved to hear him say that, because for a moment she’d been afraid, and that wasn’t going to happen. She was adventurous, but not that adventurous. Having more than one man, or adding another woman, had never been her fantasy. Being seen, having men look at her with lust, had been.

  “Let’s go home, honey,” she reiterated.

  He looked like he’d fought a battle. “It’s going to happen again,” he said. “What happened tonight. I don’t even know what triggers it. One minute I’m completely into what’s happening and the next I’m gone. I wake up and I’m in the middle of a couple of women and they’re crawling all over me, all over Storm, and I don’t even know what I’ve said to them.”

  “You’ll be safe with me, honey. Now that I know what happens sometimes, I can find ways to get you out of it.” She framed his face and leaned in to kiss him. Her heart ached, was so heavy she could barely stand it, but she knew it wasn’t nearly as heavy as his.

  She was never going to convince him that he wasn’t to blame for the things that had been forced on him. They’d both have to live with it. She kissed him again and then pushed his jeans into his hands while she found his motorcycle boots.

  NINETEEN

  Spread out, cover the entire area. We can’t let him get away. Czar spoke telepathically, the way he’d done all those years ago in the school in Russia. His team was on the move, running lightly over rooftops and through alleys.

  He’d been a very young child, no more than five or so, when his father told him stories of wolf packs hunting prey through the winter in the deep snow. How every member of the pack was needed and could be counted on. He’d learned how the older ones would sacrifice their lives in order for the younger ones to live. He had been greatly influenced by his father’s stories.

  His father had always said wolves were intelligent. They used their brains, and the brain was the most valuable weapon they—or people—had. He’d talked about teamwork and applied it to their family. Cooperation, and how, when they all worked together, they came out ahead. Coordination, utilizing one another’s strengths, how even the youngest could contribute meaningfully.

  Czar never forgot his father’s advice, or the many stories he’d told. After he’d been taken to the school, where he’d quickly realized he was going to die along with all the other children, he’d decided to find a way to fight back. Wolves were in it for the hunt, for the long haul. They were endurance hunters. Patient. His father had made him aware of his brain as a great tool. He’d known the wolves used their brains, and he’d begun to teach the other children he trusted, the ones he could see would fight no matter how badly used they were, to utilize the way of the pack.

  He had assigned the children specific tasks based on their age, gender and ability they were required to work on. It hadn’t been difficult to get cooperation. They’d been naked, in a freezing basement that had been turned into a dungeon, and they’d all needed to believe there was a way to survive. Each had specific intuitions, and Czar had given them drills to do, over and over, to work on the skills they would need to survive.

  In the beginning, he had only shared with a couple of the children that they would have to kill their tormenters in order to escape. They would have to do so without ever having suspicion cast on them, which meant stealthy, patient work.

  He’s running, heading down the hall toward the master bedroom. Ice, are you in position to round him up? Reaper asked.

  Reaper had been so young, just a little boy, when he’d become Czar’s trusted weapon. He never hesitated to stalk and kill, and that was the kind of right hand he needed. Reaper had been only five, but he’d been able to move through the vents without detection, and he’d never hesitated when he’d had to finish off one of the worst.

  Then there was Reaper’s younger brother, Savage. He had been so traumatized when their older sisters had been murdered trying to stop the brutal pedophiles from taking the two boys. The boys had returned, bloody and in bad shape, only to find their sisters dead on the floor of the basement. Savage had become . . . something else. Worse, he’d been taken by some of the cruelest of the pedophiles running the school, and they’d begun his training. They’d worked at shaping him into a being who craved seeing the marks of pain on flesh. Who needed that just to survive and even more to be aroused and enjoy a woman.

  Czar knew, from experience, that when a very young toddler was subjected to training from that early age, and it continued until they were in their early twenties, there was no going back. It was always there. Instincts. First reactions. Need. Savage was damaged beyond repair, but he was a weapon always to be counted on.

  In position, Ice replied. He’s going to run right into the room with me. I see him now, but he doesn’t see me. He’s pulling out his phone, thinking it’s safe to relax now and call for help. He isn’t certain if anything is real or not.

  Let him make the call, Czar advised. Whoever he calls is part of this ring.

  Then there was Ice and Storm and Alena. Czar sighed. The three had been brought to the school because they were unusually beautiful children. The boys were twins. Sorbacov, the man behind the murders of those opposing his candidate, had been a sick, sadistic fuck who, for political reasons, had to keep his proclivities a secret. He’d married, had children, but he had gathered the cruelest like-minded pedophiles around him, those with criminal histories, and had given them a banquet. No one had expected any of the children to survive. The moment Sorbacov had laid eyes on those three little ice-blond toddlers, he was never going to pass on them.

  That had been one of Czar’s darkest moments. He had almost given up, knowing what was in store for those three babies. Knowing it would be worse than bad, the way it had been for Reaper and Savage. Sorbacov would fixate on them, as would the most brutal and depraved of the vile criminals running the school. The more the criminals had been given free rein, the more they’d thought up to subject the children to. Czar hadn’t been much older, and like the others, he’d been powerless to stop the adults—until he thought of his father and his wolf-pack stories.

  Even as very young toddlers, Ice and Storm had fought hard to protect each other and their baby sister, Alena. Czar had known then that they had what it took to join his pack. As small childr
en, they’d been helpless against the predators running the school, but once he’d taught them to become predators, like he had Savage and Reaper, they’d become very good at what they did. Too good.

  David Swey, the hot dog vendor, had been tailed after he left his home in Graton and traveled toward Occidental. He had gone straight to the mansion that had been previously owned by Walter Sandlin, where Czar’s adopted son Kenny had been held since he was a young boy. Swey had waited for someone, peering at his watch over and over, clearly spooked by the creak of the branches against the windows.

  It was the perfect environment for Ice and Storm to create an atmosphere of fear. Czar never understood how they did it, but they had some kind of psychic ability to utilize the weather. The wind, the clouds, even lightning and thunder. Right now, the wind was moaning and crying, dashing those branches against windows so that they scraped and shrieked against the glass.

  Swey looked around the room nervously. The pictures of Walter and Kenny had been taken down and in their place were photographs of Avery Charles with several little girls. Apparently, he had bought the mansion. The estate, built like a castle, complete with gargoyles crouched overhead, was set well back from the road, and there were few neighbors. The closest ones were several miles away, enabling the mansion to be used in whatever way the occupants saw fit.

  Swey held the phone to his ear. “Where the hell are you? I thought we were supposed to meet here at nine. Avery’s not here, and let me tell you, this place is creepy.”

  He listened for a couple of minutes and glanced at his watch again. “I don’t have all night. By the time the two of you get here, we’ll have ten minutes for the meeting. I have to know what I’m looking for if he has a specific kid in mind. I’ve got a couple of runaways I’ve been friendly with. Hopefully one of them will suit him, and it will be easy.”