Though now the man had a weapon: a jagged piece of glass. Holding Vincent’s gaze, he reached into an inside pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped it around the glass to protect his hand. “I can’t let you walk away.”
“Me neither.”
The man nodded and flew at him. Each step light, almost a dance. Vincent dived forward to grab a pillow and used it as a shield to at least slow the blade down. The man was wicked fast, his control and precision a thing of beauty. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen someone fight as well with such a simple makeshift blade.
The prison fights had been brute force. Kill or be killed, use weight and muscle to crush the opponent. MacNiall didn’t have the weight to go toe-to-toe with him, but he was smart enough to know it. Instead, he used his speed.
And he was a fast motherfucker.
He sliced at Vincent’s face, making him lift the pillow up to block the strike, but then MacNiall tossed the blade to his other hand for a brutal backhand slice at his midriff. Vincent sucked in his stomach, rolling away from the arcing glass, but it cut into his lower abdomen.
More blood. It should have sent another wave of adrenaline pumping through his veins, but his body felt sluggish. Not good. The stitches had busted open on his thigh. Even the small cut Mads had given him burned, the skin stretching uncomfortably. He hadn’t fully recovered from the damage yesterday, and now blood loss was catching up with him in a hurry.
This might be the end.
For the first time in his life, that scared the ever-loving crap out of him. Mads needs me. I can’t die on her now.
He played up his weakness, letting strain show on his face. MacNiall came back in for the final blow, glass glittering toward his throat. Vincent stomped viciously on his calf, forcing his knee to buckle. MacNiall managed to throw himself down and to the side, taking the pressure off the joint just before dislocation, but he still groaned with pain. Oh yeah. Take out the biggest, strongest motherfucker’s knee and he always cried like a baby.
“Charlie!”
Vincent couldn’t breathe. His lungs locked and he couldn’t move, as if his brain had completely shut down. He stared at the man as the heavy door inside his mind swung open.
He stood in a yellow kitchen. White curtains fluttered at the window. A woman sat bound and gagged in a chair, her eyes rolling frantically, but he stood there crying. Helpless. A knife in his hand. “Do it.” Dad never raised his voice. He didn’t need to. “Or next time I’ll bring Charlie to drink with me. You think he’d like that? I bet he won’t be able to resist the blood.”
The blast of a gun tore through the memory. MacNiall slammed into him and they both went down again. Gasping through the pain, he fought not to pass out. Had he taken another bullet? He couldn’t tell.
Mads cried out and he fought to get up, pushing and shoving, scrambling to get to her, but there was a weight on his back, pinning him on the floor. So damned heavy, slumped and draped across his back. A deadweight.
Vincent twisted his head up to make sure she was okay. One of the guards had her by the hair, dragging her from the room. Shiny shoes stood in front of him. The other woman sobbed, clinging to a huge black dog’s neck. The dog snarled at the guard, crouched ready to pounce. “No, Sheba, no!”
“Go,” the guard pointed out the door. “Or I’ll shoot her too.”
“Okay.” She dragged on the dog’s leash, pulling her toward the door. But she couldn’t tear her gaze away from MacNiall.
She’d called him Charlie. Could the man actually be the brother he hadn’t seen in twenty years? That old irrational guilt flared to life in him, that he’d exposed his baby brother to their father’s cruelty. Charlie would suffer because Vincent couldn’t do what their father required.
And now Mads was going to die too, because he couldn’t kill one to save the other.
“Sorry to interrupt your fight, but time is of the essence.” Vlasenko used his foot to nudge MacNiall. The man didn’t move. “The noose tightens, you see. I’ve set the trap, both for the Tkaczuks and my son. The traitor will be revealed tonight.”
“Mads,” Vincent growled.
“You didn’t kill MacNiall. The deal’s off.”
“Bastard.” He struggled to push the weight off him, but his strength washed away. Shit. Maybe he’d lost more blood than he’d thought. Something dug into his gut. Glass. Or maybe wood from the table.
“You’re looking too much like your namesake, Ghost. To be safe, I’ve hired another gun to take care of my traitor. I don’t think you’ll be with us much longer. If you can crawl out from beneath the assassin sent to hunt you down, escape the gunfire that’s already breaking out up on deck and find Marko, I may allow you to have her yet. Otherwise, I’m taking her and the assassin’s slave to auction tomorrow.” Vlasenko walked away, humming low beneath his breath. “I’m sure they’ll bring a nice price.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ranay
Hugging Sheba tightly to me, I huddled in the corner and tried not cry. He’s okay. Please be okay.
But I’d seen the bright blood flowing across the white of his coat. The way he lay so still and quiet, even while guards made me leave him.
He might be hurt, but nothing would stop him. Not my Master.
I held that belief firm in my mind. I refused to consider any other alternative. Charlie would be fine. He would find me. He’d promised. I just had to hide and stay low.
Two men stood at the door with Vlasenko, who talked on his phone in a foreign language. I had no idea where his wife and son were.
The other woman leaned against me, her head close to mine. “My name’s Mads. I’m with ICE. We’re going to get out of here.”
Sudden hope burned in my heart. “Do you know Jill Matheson? Or a man named Lyons?”
“Yes. Both. Lyons is my boss. You know them?”
“Charlie and I met with Matheson before we came here to find his brother.”
“His brother? G?”
“If his name is Vincent Gyres, then yes.”
Mads breathed out slowly. “Yeah. He said he had a brother. But that sure didn’t look like a family reunion.”
“Charlie came to kill him.”
Mads tensed against me. “Why?”
“Their father was a serial killer. Vincent disappeared twenty years ago, and Charlie’s been looking for him ever since. He’s afraid he turned into their father.”
“Blood Drinker.” Mads shook her head a little but sighed. “He does like blood. And he’s certainly killed a lot of men. But he’s not his father. He told me a little about how his dad tied people up and drank their blood, but that’s not him. He’s not like that at all.”
“You like him. I mean, you trust him.”
“Yes. I do.” One of the guards glanced at us, so she lowered her voice, drawing her knees up tighter like she was afraid. “Don’t worry about Charlie. I don’t think that shot got him as bad as he let on.”
Hope bubbled up in my heart, making my entire chest ache. “Are you sure? There was so much blood.”
“No.”
My joy plummeted back toward despair, waiting for her to continue.
“Not positive.” The guard looked away and she whispered, “He had a head wound on a white suit. It looked bad. But a single shot wouldn’t have dropped him like that unless it’d blown the back of his skull open or destroyed most of his heart. I don’t think—”
Vlasenko walked toward us and she fell silent. We pressed tighter together and Sheba’s fur bristled. I clutched her collar and whispered, “No. Not yet.” Hopefully she understood.
He looked us over and frowned at Mads. “You look like shit. There’s no way I’ll be able to move you at auction. Not looking like that.”
When he squatted in front of us to g
et a better look at Mads’s injuries, I almost let Sheba bite a hunk of his face. But the two guards still watched. With guns. I couldn’t let them shoot her when we had no hope of escape. Yet.
He sighed, shaking his head. “My fault. I lost my temper. Maybe you’d look better in two or three days, but you’ve already proven to be more trouble than any of my other girls combined. Now if I could get Gerhardt on the line...” Chuckling, he stood. “You’d be right up his alley. Loves his girls feisty before he strangles them, but I think you’re too much for him. Plus I hear the authorities may be tracking his calling card now. I doubt he’d be willing to take you off my hands immediately and I can’t risk keeping you around.”
Uh-oh. I definitely had a bad feeling about this. It sounded like...
“Not you, though.” He reached out to cup my chin and I jerked away. “Don’t touch this one. You like to serve, pretty slave? Well, I’ve got just the Master in mind for you. You won’t even remember MacNiall’s name when he’s done with you.”
He nodded to the two guards and then left, shutting the door behind him. They shared a look, grinned and then started toward Mads.
I started shaking. I couldn’t bear to watch a woman get raped. I could attack, try to hurt one of them. Maybe she could grab a gun and help if I distracted them?
The one on my side looked at me, then said something to his friend. I’m sure they were trying to decide if Vlasenko would ever know if they used me too. There were two of them, and two women.
“There’s no need to share.” My voice quivered, but the way the guard’s eyes went heavy, focused on my lips, told me he liked that I sounded scared out of my mind.
“No marks,” the other guard reminded him.
I pushed away from the wall, crawling over Sheba to put some distance between me and Mads. I looked back at her over my shoulder and mouthed, get the gun. Then I focused on the other guard. “Who knows, you might want a turn with me instead of the blonde. My Master has trained me well.”
On my knees, I dropped my gaze shyly, clutching my hands together in my lap to hide how bad I was shaking.
“How has he trained you?” the guard closest to me asked.
I peeked up at him through my tumbled-down hair and slowly licked my lips. “He says what I do with my mouth ought to be illegal.”
He said a word I didn’t understand, but he started unzipping his pants.
My heart pounded so hard I couldn’t hear anything but the swoosh of blood through my veins. I looked at the other guard and trailed my fingers over the swells of my breasts, fingering the marks that Charlie had left on me. I bit my lip suggestively and let out a moan that hopefully sounded sexy and not like a bleat of terror. Because he came toward me too.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mads move, slowly shifting for a better position to get the guard closest to her. The gun was on his hip, facing her. She ought to be able to get it.
I dragged my gaze back to the guard before me and fought not to throw up. He’d pulled his cock out and pumped it slowly in his fist.
To distract him, I slipped my thumb into my mouth, making a great show of soft kisses, my tongue gliding out to circle all around. His breathing came faster and he stepped closer. God. He was so close. Almost in my face. I fought not heave.
“Hey!” The other guard clamped a hand on his gun and swung his fist at Mads. She ducked the blow and lunged up toward his crotch. He screamed and blood sprayed everywhere. I ducked and turned my face away, but my dress was ruined.
The guard in front of me seized my hair. I screamed. “Sheba!”
Snarling, she grabbed his arm and shook him like a rag doll, dragging him off balance. Her furious barks boomed through the small room. I could only pray Vlasenko didn’t have more guards standing around outside. A gunshot blasted close by, making me clamp my hands over my ears. The guard went down. Sheba abandoned his arm and grabbed his neck instead. I turned away when she tore out his throat.
Gasping, I braced my hand on the floor and concentrated on not throwing up.
“You okay?” Mads touched my shoulder.
“Yeah.” I made myself sit up and look at her. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”
Sheba came over to me, her tail and ears down as if she was afraid I’d be upset with her. I threw my arms around her neck and hugged her. “Thank you. Good girl. You’ve been so good waiting to protect me.”
“That’s one hell of a guard dog.”
“Yes, she is.” I pushed up to my feet, keeping a hand on her neck for balance. The other guard lay on the ground, his eyes wide open but his face was gray and he barely breathed. “How’d you get him?”
With a grin, she showed me a small blade. She bent down, wiped it on the man’s pants and then tucked it back into her bra. “G slipped it to me. Femoral artery gets ’em every time.”
She searched both guards and found a knife on one and another gun. She offered a gun to me, but just the way I touched it told her I had no idea what I was doing. “At least take the knife. But with Sheba, I don’t think anyone’s going to get close enough that you’ll need to use it.”
Footsteps approached the door. I shared a wide-eyed look with Mads, and then ducked behind the door with Sheba. Mads flattened her back against the wall on the other side of the door, gun ready in her hands.
The door swung open. “Are you guys done—”
She shoved the gun into his back and grabbed a handful of his shirt.
He jerked his hands up. “Don’t shoot!”
“Take me to the other women.”
“The... the...captives?”
She jammed the gun harder. “Yes. Take me to them.”
“Yes, okay.” But his face tightened. I could almost see his thoughts. Two girls. So what if one has a gun.
“Hold him,” I said to Sheba. I had no idea if that was a command she’d been trained to respond to, but so far, she knew words. Real words. And hold was something that made sense.
Sheba padded over to the man and grabbed a mouthful of his crotch.
“Eie eie!” The man rose up on his tiptoes, shaking.
Sheba shook her head, a rumbling growl rattling from her chest.
Holy crap. It actually worked. Mads laughed at the shocked look on my face. I pointed at the guard with his throat torn out. “Any trouble from you, and that’s what she’s going to do to your dick.”
“No, please! I know where the captives are. I’ll take you. No troubles from me.”
Chapter Thirty
Vincent
Vincent opened his eyes with a knife pressed to his throat.
MacNiall leaned over him. Blood trickled down his cheek and dotted across his chest, and lower, a much larger blot of red bloomed on the white suit coat. His eyes didn’t waver. No hesitation. No guilt. This man could and would kill him. But now he could see the boy he’d once called brother.
“Charlie?” he rasped, his mouth dry like a wad of cotton. “Is it really you?”
“Tell me one thing. Are you like him?”
Him. Their father. “You know? About... Clancy?” He couldn’t bring himself to call that man Dad. Not after what he’d done.
MacNiall’s eyes narrowed, the glass blade digging in harder. “That our father was a serial killer hunted by the FBI? Yes. I know. I know that he found us after you left. He killed Mom in front of me. It took me ten years, but I tracked him down to a swamp in Louisiana and fed him piece by piece to the alligators.”
All these years, he’d pretended that his family was safe because he was gone. If he’d stayed, could he have saved Mom? Or would he have been tied up right there beside Charlie, unable to stop her murder? “I’m glad he’s gone.” Closing his eyes, Vincent could feel the knife’s placement, right over his carotid. He’d be done in minutes. At least it’d be
quick, and he’d never have to worry about the temptation of tasting Mads’s blood again. “Promise me you’ll find Mads. She works for ICE. Lyons’s her boss. She needs your help.”
“Aren’t you going to deny that you’re a monster?”
“No. How could I be normal after what he did to me?” He opened his eyes and prodded back. “Are you going to deny that you’re a monster too? I saw the marks all over your girlfriend. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t taste her blood.”
A muscle twitched in Charlie’s jaw but he took the knife away. “It’s different. I would never kill her.”
“I would never kill Mads either.”
“But others?”
“Have I killed a shitload of people? Yeah, sure. In the line of duty. For kicks and giggles, just to drink some innocent’s blood out of a cup? Hell no.”
“He made you watch that.” His eyebrows lifted slightly.
Ah. His dear little brother wasn’t quite as smart as he thought. “From the age of seven until Mom took us and we ran. I went with him every fucking time. Now if you’re done making me relive that nightmare, can we please go find our women and kick Vlasenko’s ass?”
Charlie offered a hand and pulled him up to his feet with a grimace.
“How bad are you hurt?”
Charlie shrugged and took up position against the wall by the door. “Not bad. Bullet nicked me, probably busted a rib. You?”
Vincent threw open the door and his brother dashed out, knife ready to strike any remaining guards. “Weak but up. Shoulder’s shot. How long was I out?”
“Just a few minutes. Listen.”
Gunfire echoed above deck. “Either Mads’s cavalry is coming, or the Tkaczuks are trying to take Vlasenko’s shipment.”
They looked at each other and sprinted down the hallway. If the rivals got ahold of the women...
I might not see Mads again.
“Any way we can get to the deck without being seen? I’d rather get a few weapons on us before we run into anyone else.”
Two Cuts Darker Page 21
