Oh God, what did he want me to do? Make sure they both died? So much for going undercover to spring Kitty. I was going to have to bail on the first job he gave me. What had I really expected, though? I'd be handing out fliers for the election of a new President of the Universe?
My hand tensed in preparation for a possible fight. If we left here without him getting my cooperation, Kitty might be dead by midnight. I wasn't sure if I could take him. There was a power that simmered underneath his exterior, just waiting to explode, and I felt it. Either way, someone's blood would be staining the dock beneath our feet.
If I did manage to kill him, would I be able to find Kitty? Or would I be condemning her to death anyway?
I shifted my stance, getting ready to go for a knife. I should’ve brought the gun. Why didn’t I? I knew why. I was afraid I was going to shoot myself with it. But somehow, the knives they just felt natural in my hands.
“I want you to stop them.”
My entire body relaxed with those words. I didn't have to kill anyone. A scream of relief wanted to burst from my chest, but I held it in. Saving someone, now that I could handle. I felt a kernel of doubt about my abilities but nothing compared to the overwhelming anxiety of a minute ago.
But what if I couldn't? It didn't matter; I'd figure it out. I'd saved people fated to die before.
I took a step forward and he followed. “I'll come just close enough to see you in action.”
So much for the southern gentleman act. I hoped he carried a handkerchief. Drooling over blood wasn't a good look.
Shaking my arms out, I cleared my mind and pushed Malokin’s presence from it. I focused all my attention on the boat, on the job at hand. If I didn't get it done, three people could lose their lives tonight.
With Kitty on my mind, I headed toward the yacht. The screaming was audible before I even climbed onto the deck. I wasn't working with the Universe on this but against it, as evidenced as soon as one of the ladder rungs broke beneath my foot. My hand firm on the side rail, I plowed ahead.
Also, there would be no cloaking of my presence. This was going to be all me, and I had no idea how I was going to do this.
No need to get worked up. Baby steps. Who knows, my appearance alone might calm the situation. The shooter wasn't likely to want witnesses.
Two men, both in their late twenties, with very similar features, stood in the main room right off the deck, arguing with each other.
“Hello?” I approached the large room they were in, separated by glass doors.
They paid me absolutely no mind at all, just continued to scream at each other. I didn't care what their argument was over, but it was hard not to pick up on the particulars as I stood there.
It seemed one of them had been caught embezzling the funds of their jointly owned company. Of course, the accused denied this vehemently and screamed how the accuser had been slacking in his obligations. He'd deserved more. It didn't matter to me one bit. The only goal I had tonight was that nobody died because of it. Looking at the two of them and their cracking skin, it wouldn’t have been a big loss.
“Hello?” I repeated, quite a bit louder, and accompanied it with some pounding on the door.
I needed to handle this and in an impressive manner. Not because I cared what Malokin thought of me from an ego point of view, but because the more adept I appeared, hopefully the more leverage I'd have. Standing at a locked door and screaming didn't look very impressive.
Not sure what else to do, I thudded on the door even harder, as if I really meant it this time. I had the first time as well, but this was an open up or I'll break your door down kind of pound, or at least my best impression of one.
Finally, they turned to me. The larger of the two opened the glass door and then they yelled in unison, “Who the hell are you?”
I put on my best lady in distress appearance. It was a bit of a stretch after the pounding on the door and my black cat-burglar outfit. “I have a boat docked a few spaces away and—”
“Get the fuck out of here!” The guy who opened the door screamed so loudly I could see spittle flying in the air. This is how you treat a woman in need? Animal. It almost made me sorry I'd have to save one of them tonight.
“But…” I fluttered my lids, trying to work up a good cry.
I didn't have time to force tears before they each grabbed an arm. I was then manhandled off the deck and over the railing. My fingers grabbed for the ladder just as they released me, not caring if I fell or not.
I had to save one of these jerks? It might have been better if I was supposed to kill them both.
They loomed over the railing, ensuring my departure. My feet hit the dock and I proceeded to take a couple of steps away while their eyes were still on me.
Malokin was watching from the end of the dock but I paid him no heed. If he had a complaint over how it was going, he could take off his nice suit jacket and get his hands dirty. Otherwise, in my opinion, he could shut up.
The sound of the boat door slamming closed spun me on my heels. I doggedly headed back toward them, trying to think of a new approach and getting angrier as I went. What if I'd really been stuck? What kind of men were they? Either way, one of them was getting some saving tonight, whether he wanted it or not.
I slinked up the side of the boat, ignoring the breaking ladder as I went. This time, I stayed out of sight and simply watched the fight escalate. The argument took a turn for the worse with a shove, and the smaller guy fell into the table behind him. The larger one, already having the upper hand, turned his back and pulled out a gun. Well, that wasn’t very nice.
Plan or not, I was out of time. Running across the distance, I yanked the handle but the door didn’t budge.
This was going to have to happen the hard way. Backing up several feet, I launched myself through the door. Glass shattered everywhere and scraped along my skin in various places. That wasn't the tough part. It felt like I’d hit a cinder block wall right beyond it. In truth, what I was hitting was the Universe's resistance to what I had in mind. I didn't remember it feeling quite this bad last time. When I'd saved that woman in the woods so long ago, I'd experienced pushback but not of this caliber.
My legs felt like they were being tugged at the ankles and I’d been laid out on an ancient torture device, like the rack. There was even more pressure against my torso, to the point I lost my breath.
I forced my way through it until it gave and was shot through the room like a torpedo. I took the guy down just as the gun went off.
The bullet skimmed across my back, just as I landed on top of the intended victim. There was a trail of burning pain, but I could breathe normally. No puncture wounds, just a graze. It was manageable damage, as long as the guy didn't shoot again.
“Who the hell are you?” the voice across the room asked in a mixture of shock and agitation. I looked up to see him staring at me, the gun pointed in my direction.
I stood, slowly moving off the guy beneath me. I raised my hands in the air, in an effort to mentally disarm my current foe.
“Who are you?” he repeated, screaming; his intended victim was looking at me, as well.
“I'm no one. Just a random stranger who saw what was happening.” My voice was as calm and level as I could make it.
He eyed me up and down. The hand holding the gun was shaking as it pointed at my chest.
“How did you do that? Dive through the window like that and tackle him so quickly? How? I didn't even see it happen. It was a blur. What are you?” The last sentence was screamed. He used his gun to point to the shattered glass all over the floor.
“What I did doesn't matter. You can't kill him.” I motioned to his intended victim, still lying on the ground at my feet, where I'd left him. The guy looked more scared of me than his possible murderer. Good; hopefully he wouldn't do anything stupid.
“Says who?” His voice betrayed his fear of me. I just wasn’t sure if he was the fight or flight type.
“I do.” The sca
ry person.
“What if I just kill you, too?”
He was quickly falling into the fight category. Time to dig deep and do something really badass, or we'd both be dead soon. If I went for one of my knives, and it got out of control, he might end up dead by my hand. Adding more weapons to the situation might not be a good idea.
The gun was waving in front of me and I knew I could reach it with a kick, but could I pull that off? I remembered back to the night I’d leapt onto that guy’s back and snapped his neck. Maybe I could.
Everything physical was easier now. I could run up several flights of stairs, taking three at a time, with the same level of difficulty as a leisurely walk down the street had once been. I shifted my weight and went for it. My foot shot up and knocked the gun from his hand.
Wow, I’m definitely badass. That could’ve been in a Bruce Lee flick. This is why transfers needed a manual. Someone should tell us about this sort of thing.
I grabbed the gun from the ground before either of them could get to it first. Stepping back, I kept them both in view. “This is how it's going to go.” I waved the gun towards the guy on the ground, “Get up. You're coming with me.” I pointed to the other one. “You. Stay here. On your belly.”
Neither of them put up an argument against the crazy lady with a gun and perhaps a black belt. They just nodded their heads.
“You, up, now!” The intended victim got to his feet as his would be killer dropped to the ground.
I took a few steps backward, with the guy following me out towards the door. I walked backward, keeping them both in view, as we made our way across the deck. The whole time, I imaged how badly I’d ruin my new persona if I fell on my ass.
Once we got to the ladder, I waved for him to go first. “Climb down and get the hell out of here.” I'd just saved the guy from being shot. This was exactly what he wanted, so there wasn’t an argument. He took off over the boat and ran down the dock.
I climbed down a bit more slowly, trying to keep the gun ready. Who knew if the lunatic in the boat had another one stashed somewhere? Crazy people often had a multitude of weapons at their disposal. If you dipped your toes into the crazy pool, you needed to be prepared for a swinging machete to come your way.
The wooden dock felt solid beneath my feet as I stepped off the boat and saw Malokin waiting. His hands were in his pockets and the look on his face was a cross between satisfaction and surprise. I wasn't sure which emotion was stronger.
His eyes shot to my neck. I'd thought I'd caught a couple of scratches there, but nothing compared to the damage he couldn't see on my back. It was making my shirt stick to me, but it wasn't lethal; just enough to be annoying. I walked slowly and deliberately in his direction. The last thing I'd want him to think was that my back was hurting. A position of strength was crucial in bargaining. His smile became more generous as I neared him.
I lifted my chin slightly. “I want to see Kitty.”
“Certainly.” He turned and I followed him back to the car. “That was impressive.”
That? Yes, I'd moved quicker than a human could, and had more agility, but it wasn't something any one of us probably couldn’t have pulled off. If he couldn’t figure that out, I wasn’t going to inform him, especially since we were heading where I wanted. Instead, I said a simple, “Thank you.”
We'd just gotten to the car when the downpour started. He held the car door open for me, ever the gallant and I grabbed the rain jacket I'd brought with me. I'd had a feeling there might be rain in the forecast and now I could use it to shield the damage on my back from his eyes.
“She's close by,” he said as he got in the driver's side. He pulled out and let the engine loose. It felt pretty fast, but maybe I was just used to going at my Honda's max speed of thirty.
It took us about ten minutes to get to our destination, neither of us speaking much during the ride. I’d been too distracted, waiting for my phone to ring the entire time. No irate Harold? I'd definitely pissed off someone with the golf ball sized hail that was coming down. I was pretty sure Malokin didn’t talk because he was distracted by the dents being made in his hood.
We pulled into an indoor parking garage, leaving the suspicious storm behind, his car looking worse for wear. He proceeded to the elevator and pressed the top floor button when we got in. How many places did he have? My guess was they were countless, to make it harder for someone like myself to track him.
“Why did you want that man saved?” I asked, breaking the silence in the elevator.
“Just to see if you could.” He smiled again. It was as if this whole situation were his private joke.
What was I missing here? I could feel my blood, or whatever it was that ran through this body, start to spike and boil. I wasn't used to letting guys like this walk all over me, and it chafed at something integral to who I was. “Why do you think you can run things so much better?” I asked, my temper slipping out.
“Just a feeling,” he said with a shrug, completely unperturbed by my question. He stood there, next to me, as if he already owned the world.
I gripped the railing behind me so as not to grip his throat instead. The floor buttons lit up one after the other as I wondered how many floors it would take to kill him. Could I do it the space of time it took to travel three floors? It was tight, but my anger might give me the burst of speed needed. Too bad I couldn’t find out.
We didn't stop until we reached the top floor. There was only a small private hallway and a single door on this level, which was already ajar. It opened up to a large suite, where five men already waited. Three were sitting on the tufted leather couches, the other two stood by the windows. Of course he'd have thugs. He was Big Bad, after all. He’d need to have the prerequisite brawn surrounding him just to keep up appearances.
I walked in confidently but was anything but. If I did manage to walk out of here tonight, what condition would I be in? Would I be walking out or crawling? I could take the beating, but I wasn’t so sure how I’d hold up to a gang rape.
Malokin waved his hand and all but one man left the room. He was the smallest of them and didn't look like much. His dark navy suit had a soft sheen that slid across his narrow shoulders as he walked toward us. The blue of his suit made his hair an even blander shade of brown.
When I'd met Malokin, I hadn't immediately been sure of who he was or how to take him. This guy I hated instantly. It might have been the way he strutted across the room toward me. His eyes openly assessed every detail of my face and form, giving some aspects way more attention than others.
I'd worked for and defended some pretty sleazy people. I didn't use the word hate easily.
Malokin patted the man's back as he stopped by his side. “Karma, I'd like you to meet Luke.”
“Hello.” I held out my hand in greeting even though I didn't want to touch him. Not only did he take it, he brought my knuckles to his lips. A smile was beyond my capabilities. Luke was lucky I didn't yank my hand back.
“Luke is my right hand man. He oversees many of my interests. You and he will be getting well acquainted.” Then he looked at Luke, “Luke, if you wouldn't mind giving us a moment?”
There was a slight narrowing of the eyes that told me Luke would mind. It was less than a second's slip before the pleasant expression was back in place. So, Luke didn't like playing second fiddle. Still, he nodded his head and exited gracefully into the room where the other men had gone.
“I want Kitty, now.” My patience for a meet and greet or Malokin's fake niceties was over. I'd put some skin in the game, now it was his turn.
“Come with me.”
He turned and walked in the opposite direction of where the other men had gone. We stepped into an interior office, decorated with wall-to-wall polished wood. Any space that didn't have wooden bookcases, had intricately carved paneling. He stepped behind a desk that had a monitor sitting upon it and pulled out the chair.
“Have a seat.” Everything felt like it was going to be a trap,
and between that and my still bleeding back, it was wearing me down. I felt an inner shakiness, born from operating on an empty tank with nothing but adrenaline fueling the engine.
I perched on the edge of the seat to not stain his chair with my blood. It wasn't out of politeness; I didn't want him to see how badly I was bleeding.
He leaned forward, over where I sat, to reach a button on the monitor, distracting me from my injuries again. He swerved the mouse around and clicked an icon. The monitor flickered onto an image of Kitty, lying on a twin bed in a cement-block room. There was nothing but grey to be seen. She could've been next-door or halfway across the world.
I switched my gaze to him.
“I want her released.”
“You know I can't do that. You'd walk.”
I'd known, and yet I'd hoped in spite of it. Kitty was his leverage and I had none.
“You expect me to take this as proof she's alive? This could be days old. She might already be dead. I’m new to this game and nowhere near as old as you probably are, but that doesn't make me stupid.”
He pulled a phone out of his pocket and dialed. “Bring our guest a glass of water.”
Two minutes later, a man walked in, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and placed a glass of water on her table. He wasn't one of the men who was in the room when I’d arrived. Kitty looked up as he walked into her cell but didn't move other than that.
I shrugged. “Doesn't prove anything. Have him bring her a glass of iced tea, with a piece of lime.”
“Lime?”
“Yes. Lime. You want to prove she's alive?” I leaned forward. “You want something from me? You'll do it. Because unless you prove beyond all doubt that she is, we’re done.”
He stared at me for a moment, and whatever he saw there, he believed. It was easy to convince people of something when it was the truth.
He lifted his phone to his ear again and repeated my request. “It'll be a few minutes. They don't have lime.”
JINXED: (Karma Series, Book Two) Page 9
