by JJ King
I played with the hair at the back of his neck, giving it a little tug, which brought a gleam of awareness to his eyes that made me laugh.
"Down boy," I murmured, keeping my gaze locked on him. "You’re just gonna have to wait until after the party for that kind of present."
The awareness intensified and his fingers tightened on my hips, before gently smoothing over the curves of my body. I gave him a moment to recover physically from my teasing and tried to ignore the scent of his pheromones in the air. There would be no controlling either one of us if we both gave into our hormones.
"I'm going to hold you to that," he whispered hoarsely, lowering his lips to mine.
The music picked up after that, so we joined Bash's friends in a game of beer pong, which, Daniella confessed, had been Connor's idea even though he couldn't play because he was on duty, technically.
I laughed more than I had in months and felt the ache of it in my sides, a lovely reminder of how happy I was with Bash. Even though the first blush of our romance, that uncertain time at the beginning of any relationship, was gone, it had been replaced by something more vibrant, more intense, and more permanent. He still made my heart skip a beat when he caught me watching him and there wasn't a day that went by that I didn't wake up wanting to see him. I blinked back emotion that was obviously alcohol-based and grabbed another beer, then a handful of my soulmate's ass.
It was a good ass. The best one I'd ever known. He didn't shy away. Instead, he reached back without looking, snagged me around the waist and dragged me around for a blistering kiss that made all of his guy friends howl in support. When we came up for air, I was breathless, pink cheeked, and more than a little horny. I shot him a look filled with promises and skipped away to rejoin Daniella and her friends.
Luckily for me, Daniella's friends no longer included the insufferable Serafina. Several members of what I had once dubbed The Bitch Squad, had dumped Serafina for Daniella, much to the new Queen Bitch's dismay. The others weren't half bad, especially once you got to know them outside the social confines of the popular girl group. Like Daniella, they had real lives, real personalities, and real problems. I'd been learning that shiny objects only reflected what you thought you'd see, not what was really beneath the surface.
"Drink," Daniella commanded, handing me a shot glass filled with what could only be tequila.
Because it was her birthday and because I was wasted already, I threw back the shot and reached for a wedge of lemon.
"Wooo!" I cheered, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. "Hey," I said, turning Daniella so we were face-to-face. Her face was so pretty, I thought. Just like Bash's. "You're pretty." I booped her on the nose.
She grinned. "You're pretty, too." Daniella leaned in to whisper so loudly she might as well have just said it in a normal volume. "I'm really glad you and Bash are mates. Did I ever tell you that?"
I shook my head so hard it made the room spin, so I stopped and waited a moment. "No, you didn't, but that's so nice!" I looked over at Layla, who I remember thinking was perfection itself on my first day at Alpha Wolf Academy, and asked, "Isn't that nice?"
Layla nodded emphatically with wide eyes. "Yeah. Is Bash really your soulmate, Elena?"
I nodded proudly. "Yes, he is." I wrapped my arm around Daniella's shoulder again and squeezed. "Which makes me and her," I gave her a loud smacking kiss on the cheek, "sisters-in-law." I frowned. "That doesn't sound right. Soulmates in law?"
"Soul twins?" Daniella offered with a shrug.
"Well, whatever it is, we're that," I said with a decisive nod then freed my arm from Daniella's shoulder and declared, "I have to pee."
Without waiting to see if anyone would join me, which girlfriends usually did, I headed out of the garden party to find a bathroom.
I found one halfway down the corridor and slipped through the door with a happy laugh, thinking about how great it would feel to relieve my bladder. I always thought about that when I was drunk, how great it felt to pee, and I always reminded myself to tell somebody. I decided to talk to Daniella about it when I got back to the party.
I was just fixing my hair by running my fingers through it several times, when the door pushed open and I turned to smile at whoever it was.
The light to the bathroom flicked off and I yelped, more out of instinct than out of fear. My eyes would adjust quickly to the dark. They didn't get the chance to, though.
All I saw before my world went dark was the outline of a man dressed all in black.
Chapter 21
The whispers woke me, dragging me from a dark emptiness into a world of pain and confusion.
I opened my eyes or, at least, I tried to. I felt as if they were welded shut but, after a few moments of straining against my body's desire to just stop fighting, they lifted just the slightest bit.
I groaned and pain exploded like a bomb inside my brain, cutting off my voice instantly. I squeezed my eyes shut and the effort caused only more pain. So, I lay there, wherever there was, and tried to breathe through the pain and fog, so I could think straight and understand.
It was cold here and damp. I knew I was in the dark. Again?
My mind struggled to hold onto the pieces of memory. I'd been at Bash and Daniella's birthday party. I'd gone to use the bathroom. Then the door had opened and…
My breath hissed out as it came flooding back, that brief second of awareness that I was in danger before everything had gone dark.
My breath grew shallow as panic began to set in. I knew what this meant. I knew exactly who was responsible for my abduction. And I knew what he would do to me.
Viktor.
My thoughts grew fuzzy again and I had the clarity to understand that I needed oxygen to think, to try to find a way out while I was still alone. I dragged in deep, ragged breaths and forced my body to relax.
I'd been here before, I told myself. Not here, exactly, but I'd been in a life-and-death situation, more than once, actually. Viktor had tried twice now to kill me, unsuccessfully. That stupid saying filled my mind in a childish singsong voice, third time's the charm.
I hoped not, because I didn't want to die. I didn’t want to leave Bash.
Bash! He could find me. Our bond linked us. If I could just…
I reached out to him, opening myself to the connection of our souls and found nothing. No, I thought, as panic flooded my body, immobilizing me, not nothing. He wasn’t dead. The vision I’d had of him laying bloody at my feet hadn’t happened. He was alive, just nowhere near enough to reach.
Moving slowly, I tested my limbs and found them weak and bound by something strong. Rope, I thought, flexing my wrists against the fibrous material.
I was lying on something semisoft, a cushion of some sort. I wondered why Viktor would give me such a small comfort when he was planning on killing me anyway.
Maybe it’s not Viktor.
The thought rushed through my mind like a leaf on a breeze, there one second, then gone because I knew it was false hope. There was nothing more dangerous than false hope. The voices in my head must have agreed because they got louder at the thought.
I frowned. I hated the voices with a passion but maybe they could be useful. Just because I had never been able to control them in any way, didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. What if I could use them to see where I was or to amplify my connection to Bash? It was worth trying. What other choice did I have but to try?
The damp in the room reminded me of my grandparents’ basement before they’d laid down a subfloor and carpet. It smelled musty, like old dirt, which was good. I was cut off from the outside down here, but I could still connect with the earth.
I rolled from side to side and heaved myself off the cushion, then smothered a curse when rocks bit into my exposed arms and legs. The scent of blood mixed with earth filled my nose.
A sacrifice, I thought with a grimace. My blood for some help.
I pushed my arms into the dirt and stone and tried to quiet my mind. It was hard, al
most impossible with the specter of death hovering, but I pictured Bash in my mind, then Rory, Daniella, Sara, Bethany, my mom, my dad, and my grandparents. I moved through my loved ones, picturing their faces, until my pulse slowed, and I was steady enough to focus on the elements present in this dank place.
Earth, water, and air were here. I opened myself to them, welcoming the flow of their intrinsic power into me. Instantly, the clambering quieted until the voices were a gentle hum in the back of my mind. I tried to remember a time when my mind had been silent and couldn’t.
Maintaining my even breathing, I relaxed my shoulders, my stomach, even my tongue, as Dalia had shown me, and sunk deeper into my awareness.
Fragments floated to the surface, snippets of my mother singing, flashes of her face, this time accompanied by the rugged handsome features of a man with startlingly beautiful electric blue eyes.
My heart ached, with grief and happiness to finally meet my father. I'd seen pictures of him, of course. It hadn't taken me long to Google the Dom Volkovs and see images of what my family had been. I’d been loved, dearly, and would have had a wonderful life if Viktor hadn't been hungry enough for power to stoop to murdering his own blood.
My stomach twisted and I forced myself to breathe through the pain. It would do me no good now.
Images of the past could be useful, I thought, as I tried to navigate past my parents so I could see Viktor and maybe find something that could help me fight back against him. But, no matter how hard I focused on his face, that horrible visage that visited me in nightmares, I saw nothing that could be useful.
I swallowed fear that tasted like acid. The past wouldn't give me the answers I needed, which meant I had to look to the future. The image of Bash, covered in blood, tugged at my consciousness, but I pushed it away. I needed help, Old Ones, please!
The whispers intensified at my frustration, swirling chaotically as I pressed into them, searching for one face, one voice, and nearly sobbed in relief when he finally swam to the surface.
She cannot be allowed to live. He spoke to someone I couldn't see. His eyes blazed with purpose, a mission, a single goal. Wipe out all competition to the Alphaship of Russia and solidify his future.
She's just a girl, his companion said in a voice that sounded oddly familiar. I don't understand why you're so afraid of her.
I felt rage explode through Viktor, a flash of heat so terrible it nearly singed me. He struck out, with fist and voice, all fury and indignation that anyone would dare to question him.
“I am afraid of no one!” he roared and his face distorted, changing him from handsome to demonic.
I gasped and the image of him faded, just a little, enough that my fear of him was forced to morph into fear of losing this chance. I struggled to refocus and breathe.
Viktor grabbed the man, I could tell it was a man now, by the shirt and jerked him to his toes. You ask a lot of questions for someone who has so much at stake. Perhaps you'll choose to save this little girl instead of your own.
I felt the man sag in Viktor's hands and knew that whoever it was would no longer stand up for me. I was on my own. Completely and utterly on my own.
No, I stiffened. I couldn't think that way. I couldn't just give up and stop fighting. People had died protecting me, ensuring that I alone out of my entire family would survive. I couldn't just give up.
I pressed harder, drawing the elements around me into my body, searching for more inside the confusion.
Viktor's face sharpened and his emotions, dark and dangerous, snapped into vivid clarity. I latched onto the image and searched for something, anything, that could potentially save my life.
The sound of heavy footsteps on the floor above me, making the wooden boards creek as they passed, had all my effort going up in smoke. Terror overtook me and I twisted to look in the direction of where the footsteps stopped. The sound of a door being unlocked brought vomit to my throat, where it burned and stole my breath.
The door opened, letting in a brilliant wash of light that illuminated the single figure standing at the top of a long set of stairs. He stood in relief, a figure of darkness, cast in the shadows of the light.
Viktor.
I began to tremble as he descended the stairs, slowly coming closer, his outline wide at the shoulders and narrow at the hip. I struggled to breathe, to think, to do anything other than barely hold back screams. I wouldn't scream, no matter what he did to me, I wouldn't give him that satisfaction. He'd already taken too much from me. My innocence, my security, my family. He wouldn't take my pride; I wouldn't give him that.
I pulled back my lips and snarled.
"Coward." I snapped my teeth at him, wishing I had my canines so I could sink them into his throat and rip it out. The bloodthirsty thought didn't shock me. I was a wolf, after all.
"Elena, I'm so sorry."
I frowned. I'd heard Viktor's voice in my dreams night after night, so I knew his voice intimately, though I wished I didn’t.
That wasn't his voice but it was one I recognized.
"Xavier?" I asked, barely able to contain the hope that sprang into my chest.
He was silent for a moment, dulling the hope, then he squatted down before me and answered. "I'm so sorry, Elena. Please, believe me. I'm so sorry."
The hope died a violent death.
I shook my head, it didn't make any sense. "What do you mean, you're sorry? What's going on? Why are you here? Please," I begged. "Help me. Untie me. Viktor…" I trailed off.
Xavier didn't move, didn't reach for the rope to release me, didn't so much as breathe. He knelt there, hovering over me as my eyes adjusted to the new light and I finally saw his face.
His eyes were downcast, unable to look at me, and his face, so handsome, had aged since I'd seen him last. He looked haggard, frail, and afraid.
"You?" I asked as my mind raced to catch up. It didn't make sense, none of it made sense. Xavier was my mentor, my professor. He couldn't be helping Viktor. He wouldn't. I opened my mouth to ask a million questions but only one thing came out. "I saved your life."
He sobbed out a ragged breath. "I know, Elena! Old Ones, I know, and I'm so sorry, but he has them." Xavier reached out and grabbed me by the arms, shaking me until my teeth rattled. "Viktor has Annabelle and Jayelle.”
I choked back a gasp. His daughter and ex-wife. His office was full of pictures of his daughter, so bright and beautiful and, obviously, the apple of his eye. His face lit up whenever he spoke of her. Now it seemed to crumble beneath the weight of her abduction.
Understanding soothed my confusion and the whispers, which were more like angry screams now. He would sacrifice everything for his daughter.
He would sacrifice me.
I looked away from him and let tears stream from my eyes, knowing what little hope had sparked at the sight of him, was now gone forever.
Xavier pushed to his feet and, once again, murmured his apologies, but they were just to assuage his guilt. They meant nothing to me. He was doing what he had to do to save the most precious person in his life. I didn’t blame him, not really. I blamed Viktor. He was the sick mastermind pulling all the strings.
A dark heaviness filled my limbs, dragging me down to the earth so that it felt like I’d never be able to move again. My mind grew heavy, too, then began to float, leaving the fear and pain behind. Faced with fight, flight, or freeze, I was freezing to death.
I didn’t move when a buzzing sound broke through the silence. I didn’t blink when I heard Xavier answer the call with, “Just a minute.”
And I didn’t breathe when I heard Xavier open the door and usher Viktor into the room.
Chapter 22
A sharp garish light flicked on overhead, blinding me.
I winced and squeezed my eyes shut, then listened as Viktor walked down the stairs, slowly and with more menace than I’d thought possible in footsteps, then strode across the large room and stopped in front of me.
"I did everything you asked," Xavier sa
id in a shaky voice, edged with desperation. "Where are they?"
Viktor chuckled. "So anxious."
The sound of his voice, that Russian accent, echoed inside my mind like a nightmare. It made my blood run cold.
"They will be returned to you when my work here is complete," he said so simply I almost didn't understand at first.
His work. The blood drained from my face, bringing nausea and a faint ringing that joined with the whispers to make me lightheaded. I was his work. Finishing the job he started more than twenty years ago, when I'd been just an infant. How callous and insane did one have to be to refer to murder in such a casual way? I wondered if it would be quick, at least.
I half expected Xavier to apologize again for his betrayal, but he left the room without saying a word, then clicked the door shut, leaving me with my uncle.
For a long moment, Viktor didn't speak. I laid on the floor, bruised and defeated, with my eyes shut against the sight of the face I now recognized from memories gifted to me by the voices. I'd known already from pictures that there was a strong family resemblance between the two brothers, but seeing Viktor now, after glimpsing my father's face, filled with love and life... it was heart wrenching. A tear squeeze from beneath my eyelashes and dripped onto the ground.
"Poor little wolf," Viktor practically purred. "Don't cry." His voice changed in an instant, sharpening like claws. "It's not becoming of a Dom Volkov."
His chuckle sent ice down my spine. "Your mother cried. She woke as I drove the knife into your father and knew the truth, just for an instant, before I took her life, too."
Their faces popped into my mind, unbidden. I shut them down, quickly, as quickly as I could, because they were beautiful and young, and I didn't want to watch them morph into what he was describing. I would join them in death soon and, hopefully, reunite. Until then, I wanted their smiling faces to remain the only memory I had of them.
