Savage Vendetta (Fire & Vice Book 4)

by Nikita Slater

  Jane looked up into the grim face of one of her husband’s tattooed enforcers. “Pardon me, Madam Sitnikov, but we need to get you off the street,” he said, before picking her bodily up off the sidewalk and carrying her inside the building in a fireman’s hold.

  “Boris!” she cried out, twisting in the man’s arms.

  “We will get to him once you are safe, madam.”

  “No, now!” Jane snapped, driving her sharp elbow in between the man’s shoulder blades, causing him to drop her.

  Jane fell sideways off his arm and stumbled, but stayed on her feet. She pointed imperiously at the door and snarled, “I’m safe. Now go out there and bring in the man that saved my life. Immediately!”

  The guy stared at her, flexing his back muscles to ease the place she had hit him and then nodded. “Da, madam Sitnikov.”

  Moments later, he returned with his fellow enforcer, both of them dragging their compatriot between them. They dropped Boris’ heavy body to the floor. Jane rushed to his side and dropped to her knees. She wasted no time in tearing his shirt back from the wound. She rolled him slightly and looked underneath. There was an exit wound and the blood was slowing. There didn’t appear to be any wounding that would cause fatal damage. He’d passed out from blood loss.

  “Go get Alex,” she demanded, glaring up at the two men.

  The one that had carried her shook his head. “It is too late for him.”

  The room spun around her for a moment. Jane closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath before looking up at them with blazing eyes. “Don’t make me repeat myself. You will not leave your brother on the sidewalk for anyone to see. Bring him here. He deserves no less for protecting the Boss.”

  Jane’s implication that they had failed to react quickly enough during the attack struck home. She had no doubt that they’d gotten out there as quickly as they could once they realized something was happening outside of the restaurant, but she didn’t want them questioning her. She was going to need implicit obedience from her husband’s enforcers if she was to get Vlad back before Petrov could kill him.

  The two men left to retrieve Alex’s body. Jane looked up at the restaurant’s hostess who was half hovering and half cowering. “You,” she snapped at the girl with long dark curls. “Bring me some clean towels from the kitchen, a first aid kit if you have one and a pot of cold water.”

  When the girl came back, Jane did what she could to patch Boris up. She poured some hemostatic powder from a small vial into the wound to stop the bleeding and then bandaged the wound. Boris remained thankfully unconscious. The hostess gagged when Jane had her help roll Boris to his side so she could treat the exit wound. The two others deposited Alex at her feet and covered him in a tablecloth. Jane ignored them. She picked up the pot of ice cold water.

  “Sorry about this, big guy,” she murmured before dumping the entire thing over his head.

  One of the guys snarled at her, “What the fuck, woman?”

  Boris’ eyes flew open and he came up swinging his heavy arms around, trying to punch whoever was attacking him. Luckily, one of the men moved quickly, pulling Jane out of harm’s way. Jane brushed off her saviour and flew back to Boris’ side. She gripped his hand hard in hers.

  “I’m sorry, Boris, I had to get you up,” she said urgently. “The police are going to be here in seconds and if we want to get Vlad back we need to get out of here so we can start looking. I need your help.”

  Boris gave her a long measured look and then painfully dragged himself to his feet. Jane braced herself against his side, stumbling precariously as he put some of his weight on her narrow shoulders. He shook his head, showering Jane with water droplets from his hair and beard. He looked up once more, his gaze clearer. He barked orders in Russian at the two men hovering nearby, gestured to Alex’s body and then turned and began dragging Jane through the restaurant under his arm.

  The guy that had pulled Jane off the sidewalk met them at the back door and pressed car keys into Jane’s hand, giving her a hard look. “We will be ready to join you after we talk to the cops. I’ll call in as many of our brothers as I can get.”

  Jane nodded and went out the back door with Boris. He lumbered around the car, an older model Cadillac, and dropped heavily into the passenger seat. Jane got into the driver’s side, adjusted the seat half a foot forward and turned the keys in the ignition. She smiled grimly at how much the car looked like it belonged to a bookie or a pimp.

  “Where to, big guy?” Jane asked Boris.

  “King,” he grunted.

  Jane frowned. He couldn’t mean who she thought he meant. “Tyson King?”

  Boris nodded and grunted, “Owes Boss favour.”

  “Okay then,” Jane said pulling the car out of the alley and into the street. She could see several police cruisers pull up to the restaurant with lights flashing in her rearview mirror.

  Boris tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “Not sleeping,” he said grumpily. “Don’t throw water this time.”

  Jane laughed, despite the grim situation. Then her expression turned serious as she eyed the tattooed dagger than pierced the skin of Boris’ neck. There were drops of tattooed blood mingling with real blood on his collarbone. Jane remembered reading in Russian mobster lore that the pierced dagger indicated he had killed someone in prison and the blood drops indicated how many. Involuntarily, her eyes dropped to his wrists and traced the two bands circling them. Multiple incarcerations.

  Jane felt relaxed in the massive mobster’s presence, no matter what was in his past. He was loyal to her husband and therefore loyal to her. He’d stood up for her on more than one occasion, not to mention saving her life moments earlier. Besides, it wasn’t as if Vlad was an angel. She knew what the mountain of skulls at the base of the domed palace meant. She refused to blind herself with ignorance. She may love the man, but he was still a killer.

  Someone must have gotten the whereabouts of Tyson King, because Boris received a text indicating they should meet the businessman at his condo. Boris grunted directions to the luxury building while Jane drove. She took several calming breaths. She was familiar with adrenalin rushes and knew if she didn’t pace herself she would crash from exhaustion and be of no help in retrieving her husband.

  Following Boris’ succinct instructions, Jane entered the underground parking lot of one of the fanciest apartment buildings she had ever laid eyes on. As a cop, she’d never had to respond to a call there, but she knew it existed. She craned her neck, staring way up the beautifully designed building. The security gate opened for them and Boris directed her toward an elevator that opened as they approached. She arched a brow at Boris and he waved her on to it.

  “Wow, and I thought my husband was wealthy,” Jane muttered driving slowly forward.

  There were no buttons to push or anything, so Jane assumed there would be only one destination. A few minutes later they arrived. The double doors opened to a huge garage that boasted a fleet of vehicles. Jane drove carefully as she exited the elevator, aware of the value in several of the cars. Two men were walking across the garage toward her. Jane braked and stopped the Cadillac. Boris opened his door and pulled himself out, bracing an arm along the top of the doorframe.

  Warily, Jane followed suit. She approached the two men at the same time as Boris. She recognized Tyson King, though she had never met him personally. It was impossible to live in that city and not know who owned the majority of it. Though she was disheveled and torn from the attack, she squared her shoulders and put her hand out to the huge black man wearing a business suit and said imperiously, “Jane Sitnikov. Thank you, Mr. King, for seeing us on such short notice.”

  CHAPTER THIRTYONE

  King took her hand in a firm grip. When Jane winced involuntarily, he frowned, gripped her wrist and pulled her closer when she tried to pull away. Jane glanced back at Boris. When he didn’t react with murder and mayhem, she allowed Tyson King to turn her hand over in his and examine the palm. He gently touched the graz
es where glass had pierced the skin.

  King dropped her hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Sitnikov. I’ve heard about you and have been eager to make your acquaintance.”

  Somehow, Jane didn’t find that comforting. Especially not when King indicated the man standing to his right. “Daniel Mercer is head of my security. He’ll be working with you on getting your husband back.”

  Jane was about to protest any interference when she got a good look at King’s head of security. There was no way to describe his eyes except dead as they calmly took in every detail of her and Boris’ appearance. His face was hard as rock. Even the sexy waves of sandy brown hair and trimmed beard did nothing to soften his appearance. Jane was never more positive in her life than that she was meeting a real life cold-blooded assassin. She nodded absently, her eyes skittering away from the terrifying man.

  Damn. If she ever wanted to learn how to back up her tough talk, she would take lessons with this guy. She was about to tell Tyson she wanted nothing more than information, when the clicking of heels striking the concrete rang out in the air. Jane turned to watch the stunning Claudia Cantore, arms laden with shopping bags, approach them with a frown.

  “Tyson, darling,” she said in a sweet voice that held an edge. “Why are we entertaining bleeding humans in our garage?”

  She dumped her bags carelessly on the hood of a Mercedes, drawing a wince from King, and turned around to take a firm hold of Jane’s arm. “Come with me, Ms. McKinley. I assure you, we don’t usually leave injured women to care for themselves in the dirty garage.”

  Jane watched in astonishment as the giant, terrifying Tyson King looked somewhat abashed and muttered, “They just got here.”

  Boris snorted and Claudia swung her sharp gaze toward him. “Follow me, Boris. I won’t have you bleeding to death on our property.” As they entered a spacious hallway through a glass door, Claudia said over her shoulder, “Mercer, be a dear and park the car.”

  Jane snorted at the feral growl that followed them. Apparently Mercer didn’t take well to following a woman’s orders. Jane said as much when they entered a gorgeously laid out condo that looked more like it belonged in the mountains than in a high rise apartment.

  “I do it more to annoy him,” Claudia said, pushing Jane toward the sofa. “He gives me the serious creeps and, although we’ve sort of bonded a tiny bit (as much as a guy like that can bond with a person), I like to remind him that I’m not one of his soldiers. He has a tendency to order me and Laney around, which annoys us to no end.”

  “Where is Laney, I thought your bodyguard shadowed you everywhere?” Jane asked, starting to feel like she stepped into mobster wonderland. She was surrounded by incredible luxury and discussing the merits of annoying the deadliest man she’d ever met, with perhaps the exception of her own husband.

  “She’ll be on her way up I’m sure. I texted her the moment I saw you and Boris. I think there’s something between her and that ginormous butler.” Claudia approached Jane with a glass of water and a warm damp cloth.

  Laughter bubbled up in Jane, despite the consuming fear she felt for her husband. “Butler?”

  “Butler?” Boris’ disgusted voice came from the hallway as he entered the room.

  “He answers the door at the mansion doesn’t he?” Claudia’s green eyes were round and innocent in her face.

  She sat on the table next to the couch and drew Jane’s hand into her lap, heedless of any damage she might be doing to her impeccable white silk pencil skirt. Turning Jane’s hand over gently, she pressed the damp cloth into the torn skin. Jane sat obediently while Claudia cleaned her up, knowing that she wouldn’t be helping her husband any if she were to get an infection. Besides, there was something about Claudia that one just didn’t argue with. Jane still thought she was a frivolous trophy wife, but there was no arguing with the blond beauty’s efficiency.

  “I am not a fucking butler,” he growled annoyed.

  The front door slammed and both Mercer and Boris became alert. They relaxed as an austerely severe looking Asian woman strode into the room. She stopped and took in the occupants with sharp eyes and then turned to stare hard at Boris. “What is wrong with you, Russian?” she demanded in a cold voice. “You look like a mess.”

  Jane’s jaw dropped. She and Boris had developed a friendly rapport over the months, but she couldn’t imagine any woman being brave enough to speak to the Russian enforcer with such disdain. Claudia caught her eye and winked. Jane rolled hers in response. She didn’t particularly care about the love lives of others.

  “Are you hurt anywhere else?” Claudia asked softly.

  “Her side,” Boris grunted.

  Jane frowned, she didn’t think he had noticed. With a sigh she carefully lifted her sweater away from the long scrapes and leaned sideways so Claudia could look at her. “Can we just get on with this? I want to find my husband. I appreciate the TLC, but I don’t want to sit around and wait while Petrov tortures and kills him.”

  “Husband?” Claudia said with a frown, folding the cloth over and pressing the clean side against Jane’s ribcage. Her startled green gaze met Jane’s and she gasped, “Please tell me you didn’t marry Vladimir Sitnikov!”

  Jane rolled her eyes again. Claudia was not going to be her favourite person ever. Too dramatic. “Yes, I’m married to Vlad.” She looked directly up at Tyson King and asked, “Can you help us find him?”

  “I have people working on it,” he rumbled and turned to Mercer. “Call Jack and find out if there’s any news yet.”

  Mercer nodded sharply and turned away from the group, striding toward a set of glass sliding doors that led to the deck. He returned moments later while Claudia was still cleaning Jane up. Laney had shoved Boris onto a bar stool and was peeling back the edge of Jane’s makeshift bandage. Jane suspected she didn’t want to know what the lethal looking woman was muttering under her breath. Boris was looking pleased with the attention though.

  “He’s being held at a warehouse on the waterfront,” Mercer said, a cold voice with no inflection. “They’re in the process of torturing him. Looks like for fun instead of information. Jake says he disrespected Petrov and banned him from the city.”

  Jane gasped and closed her eyes. Claudia put a comforting hand on Jane’s shoulder. “Jesus, Mercer. You’re about as delicate as elephants fucking. You tell a man’s wife that he’s being tortured?”

  Jane’s eyes flew open and she laughed out loud. On second thought, maybe Claudia was more than a pretty face. She certainly had a way with words. Jane shrugged the other woman’s hand away and pulled herself off the couch. “Petrov must’ve taken my husband to the same warehouse where I was shot.”

  Boris nodded. “Petrov’s brat would find justice in that.”

  “You were shot?” Claudia said with a gasp of horror. Her accusing eyes went to Tyson King who was standing quietly contemplating the situation. “Why am I always last to find out what’s going on in this city?” she complained.

  “Let’s go,” Jane said to Boris, heading to the door. “Text the others and let them know where to meet us. And for fuck’s sake, can someone get me a gun?”

  Boris lumbered to his feet. “Boss would kill me himself if I let you go. You stay here where is safe and let Claudia take care of you.”

  Jane turned on her heel and strode to Boris going nose to nose with him. “That’s not going to happen, Russian, and you know it.”

  He grinned at her lazily. “You have no taser to back you up this time, pchelka. You stay with King and his woman.”

  She gritted her teeth. “What the hell did you just call me?”

  “He called you a bee,” Laney supplied from her position on Boris’ other side, standing calmly with her arms crossed over her chest.

  Jane frowned while Boris turned his grin on the other woman. “You know Russian?” he asked in a voice that made no secret of how happy the fact made him. Laney just ignored him and continued to stare at nothing in particul
ar. “We will discuss this later. After Boss is safe.”

  Jane detected a tiny shiver course through the stoic woman before she turned and left, striding away from the group. “Try not to get yourself killed and maybe I will talk to you,” Laney said coldly before leaving the condo.

  Jane arched a brow at Boris who looked quite pleased with himself for a man with a hole in his shoulder. Jane smacked him just above his wound to bring his attention back to her, which he did with a growl. “Now you listen to me, enforcer,” she infused as much command as she could into the word. “While my husband is missing or disabled, I’m next in line, correct?”

  Any lingering pleasure swiftly left Boris’ face, leaving a lethal mask behind. He stared at Jane, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He gave her a short nod, staring straight ahead. “Then you’ll listen to me in his absence, understood?” she insisted, sounding as coldly serious as she could manage. He nodded again.

  Jane smiled grimly. “Then lets go get my husband before they cut something off I still want. Don’t forget, I was a cop for over ten years, I can handle myself.”

  Claudia choked with laughter and King looked on their exchange with amusement. He hadn’t said much since they entered the apartment. Now he said, “Take Mercer.”

  Jane looked over at him coldly. “We have our brothers, we don’t need you. I thank you for the information though.”

  King eyed her speculatively. “I owe Sitnikov a debt, it’s why your man brought you here. Although I’m pretty sure his plan was to stash you safely away while he fought the battle. Take Mercer and I’ll consider my debt to your husband paid. I would go myself, but I have a meeting tonight that can’t be moved.”

  From the tone of King’s voice, Jane suspected he was meeting with someone very important. He sounded almost disappointed to be missing out on the coming battle. Jane looked up at Boris. “Do we take him?” she asked quietly.