Stone Cold Angel (The Perfect Order Book 2)

by Amy Deason

  The fluorescent lighting overhead reflected off the gray tile floor, creating a soft glare along the entire length of the hallway. It was long, narrow, and completely empty, just as their informant had assured them it would be.

  He walked quickly down the hall until it elbowed sharply to the left. Peering around corner, he spotted the elevator which would take him to the bottom floor. But not to where Cadence was being held. To reach the subterranean level, he would have to enter a special code into the elevator’s keypad. The bad thing was that any technology, be it a simple keypad or a high-end computer, could be traced if a person knew what they were doing. It left a digital fingerprint so to speak. In most cases, he might be worried but by the time it caught someone’s attention, he’d be long gone with the girl.

  So far, by his internal clock, he’d only spent five minutes of his allotted thirty. He planned to be in and out with at least half of that to spare.

  The elevator door opened silently and Nikolas stepped inside, punching the code into the keypad. When the door opened again, he was standing in another hallway. This one was shorter, wider, and dimly lit. One look at the two-way mirror and he understood the reason for the muted lighting. If it was too bright on this side, the person on the other side might notice the glare and realize they were being watched. Not that it mattered much. Once a person came down this far, they rarely came up again in one piece. Or breathing.

  Passing the mirror, Nikolas spared a quick glance at the girl on the other side.

  Why couldn’t she have just let her father’s disappearance go? Just let him go and try to get on with her life as best she could. When his own father vanished before his eleventh birthday, he certainly had. But of course by the time Pytor Balakin had left, Nikolas had been more than ready to see him go. If he hadn’t, he would have killed him in his sleep or more correctly, his drunken stupor.

  One and the same, he reminded himself, one and the same.

  Either way, he’d turned out all right and he didn’t even have the advantages Cadence had. Nice home, money, cars, elite social standing. There should be no reason for her to be here. But here she was. A spoiled princess, a fucking thorn in his side.

  Nikolas noticed the temperature change the moment he strode into the square, concrete room. It was cold and clammy regardless of the fact it was the middle of June. This section of the building was buried deep under the earth and the thick walls were forever damp as they continued to draw moisture, issuing a slight mildew smell that constantly permeated the air. Standing for nearly two hundred years, it was originally a bomb shelter before Dmitry discovered it. Since then, he’d constructed a massive, multi-billion dollar building over it, concealing it completely from discovery. The upper levels housed offices, research labs, conference rooms, restrooms, and even a four-star cafeteria.

  Sprawling out over ten acres twenty miles south of St. Petersburg, Stellar Revolutions was a well-constructed center of nuclear research and technology. Except for this room. Other than a few old timers still be lingering around and Dmitry’s most trusted associates, this place didn’t exist. The Chamber, as he liked to call it, was the stage for the more devious operations. Torture, rape, murder. This was the place where the more reluctant individuals came. But it was also the place they never left alive.

  And now, here before him, Phillip’s daughter sat unmoving, strapped to a metal chair. Most likely the same chair her father had sat in not very long ago. Her head was pitched forward, the long dark curtain of hair spilling over her shoulders, completely obscuring her face. But he didn’t need to see her face to recognize her. It was a face he’d studied in depth. From the moment he’d been given this assignment, she’d been imprinted on his brain. Sparing a moment, Nikolas let his eyes take her in, trailing leisurely over her body.

  Legs, tanned by the sun, were long, firm, and smooth. Gazing past toenails painted a silly and frivolous baby blue, shapely calves, and silky thighs, he encountered a whisper of neon-pink panties, peeking out from the edge of her T-shirt. Navy blue and snug, the shirt clung to her unconscious form, hugging the lean muscles of her stomach, the soft curves of her breasts. A body built for sex.

  A moan came from inside the curtain of hair. It was a soft sound but Nikolas could still hear the pain in it. No doubt she’d been roughed up on her way here, quite possibly after she’d arrived too. Either that or she’d been injected with some type of drug. Possibly both. From what he knew, Dmitry liked his victims weak and confused until he really went to work on them. Either way, she was probably going to feel like shit once she regained full consciousness.

  Nikolas considered cutting the straps but decided it was better to wait and see just what kind of situation he had here. He hated surprises.

  As Cadence slowly rolled her head back, his breath caught in his throat. The pictures he’d seen did not do this girl justice. Not even close.

  A heart-shaped locket lay just below the hollow of her throat, its thin, gold chain encircling the graceful neck. Her hair, a wild and tangled mess the color of melted chocolate, fell away revealing a slim and delicate jaw line smudged with ash. Lips, soft and generous, opened, releasing another painful groan. Leaving her mouth, his gaze followed the dark streaks crisscrossing over her sun-kissed skin. She had a pixie-like nose with high, delicate cheekbones, one of which was sporting a nice-sized bruise. Long, sooty lashes fluttered, allowing him to catch flashes of sapphire as she struggled to open her eyes.

  Stop gawking at her, Kozlov! She’s just a girl.

  A very pretty, very stupid girl. It served her right ending up like this and he was tempted to just leave her here. But it was not part of the plan. He needed her awake. Now.

  Remaining where he stood, Nikolas kicked the chair, the sharp sound echoing in the room.

  Jolting awake, Cadence’s eyes snapped open, blinking rapidly. The fear in those gem-colored blues was almost palpable. He’d expected that. But what he hadn’t expected was the anger.

  Immediately, she began to struggle savagely against her bonds, whimpering as she did. Her hair whipped wildly side to side as she yanked and pulled, twisted and turned.

  “Stop.” His voice was no louder than a whisper but it may as well have been a shout given her reaction.

  Cadence flinched but ceased her vicious battle with the straps. As she focused on him, he saw the thin thread of desire in her eyes. He doubted she even knew it was there.

  Oh, this was going to be a piece of cake.

  “There’s no use trying to get loose. You can’t and you’ll only hurt yourself more by trying.” His voice was soft but intense, demanding her attention.

  Staring into her eyes, he leaned forward and brushed the hair from her face. Her skin was cold against his fingertips. She must be freezing sitting here in nothing but a thin T-shirt and a pair of panties. Pink panties, the male part of him spoke up.

  His eyes fell to the junction of her thighs and slid up to her breasts, noting the way her nipples were hardened against the cold. His groin tightened in response.

  Jeez, get a fucking grip.

  He tightened his jaw, watching as Cadence shifted under his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared back at him in fear.

  “I’m here to help you but you have to do exactly what I say.”

  ~ ~ ~

  The man leaning toward her was absolutely dangerous. And totally gorgeous. Cadence felt these things as clearly as she felt the pull on her arms and the chill in the air. As clear as the immense ache in her head and face.

  God, it felt as though her brain was being ripped apart. It hadn’t helped thrashing around trying to free herself from the chair. Any more than it had to try and nail the men with the tire iron when they’d finally opened the trunk. She thought she’d managed to hit one of them but she couldn’t be sure. The last thing she remembered was a fist coming at her follo
wed by a brief flash of pain and darkness.

  When she woke up, she was in this place, tied to a chair. A large man encased in an expensive suit stood over her. With wide shoulders, a brown buzz cut, and piercing green eyes, he was attractive in a cold sort of way. But when he smiled, a chill ran through her, spearing her heart. His words were friendly and polite but when she refused to answer his questions, he’d become enraged and she tensed herself for another blow. But he hadn’t hit her. Instead, he’d pulled out a syringe and injected her with something. Whatever it was had knocked her out quickly and with a lot less pain than a fist to the face. She could still feel the light sting on the side of her neck.

  Now here she was again, with another creep. Shifting uncomfortably, she tried to shrink into herself and escape the dark, penetrating eyes of this handsome man but there was nowhere for her to go. She was strapped to the chair, unable to do more than look away. But the intensity in the man’s eyes kept her from even doing that. Frozen in place, she could only watch as he leaned in, closing the space between them, his lips scant inches from hers. Terror accelerated her heart, making it slam against her ribs painfully.

  “I’m here to help you but you have to do exactly what I say,” he murmured, his voice soft and husky. His breath had been warm and sweet, washing over her face and it would have stolen her breath had she not been holding it.

  She was afraid, no doubt about it, but she wasn’t stupid and she’d been through this once before. She knew what he wanted and she wasn’t willing to play along.

  “Yeah right, asshole,” she spat. “That’s the same thing the other guy said. Gee, can’t you come up with something a little more original? Or is this a script you have to go by?” She was cold and scared shitless but she was also pissed. If they wanted to continue to keep her here, so be it. But she wasn’t going to make it easy for them.

  Abruptly, he moved away, taking with him the heat radiating from his body, his face unreadable. God, she was freezing. Unable to stop herself, she shivered.

  “What other guy?” His English was good but not good enough to completely mask the Russian accent.

  Before answering, Cadence lifted her head, really studying him.

  Great, they’re sending more educated, better looking goons to deal with me.

  The Devil couldn’t have picked out a better disguise than the one standing in front of her right now. Towering over her, he stood at least six-foot-two, a good six inches taller than she was, and the short, wavy crop of hair was as black as his clothes. With a nice, straight nose, a strong jawline dusted with stubble and sensuous lips, he was handsome, unnervingly so. More like borderline pretty and just her type. It wasn’t fair she was so instantly attracted to him. And he was young, only three, maybe four years her senior. But his eyes, those dark, dark eyes . . . they were so much older than the rest of him.

  But damn it, she wasn’t going to fall for it. She wasn’t going to give in to them, no matter how cute they were. She had to play tough with these guys. If she didn’t, they would chew her up and spit her out.

  Screwing up all the courage she could muster, she raised her chin defiantly. “You know what guy. Your boss. The big, wrestler-looking one. I’m not stupid. I know what you’re doing.”

  The striking man in front of her snorted. “Oh yeah, you’re a real smart cookie all right. Smart enough to end up here in The Chamber,” he replied, the sarcasm weighing down his voice.

  “The Chamber?” she echoed, glancing around the room. It was dank and smelled like mildew. And there was a large bloodstain on the floor near her bare feet. Her stomach clenched involuntarily and she bit her lip to keep from throwing up. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she looked back at the man in front of her. “Listen, I already told your boss he’d made a mistake. I didn’t know anything so he’s wasting his time sending you in here.”

  Grimacing, his full lips flattened into a thin line. “That ‘big, wrestler-looking’ guy is not my boss. Something you should be very grateful for. I’m here to get you out of this place but we need to hurry so you’re going to have to do exactly what I say when I say to do it. Got it?”

  It was too much to hope for. That some white knight, or black knight the way he was dressed, would come in here to rescue her. It had to be another trick. One she was not going to fall for.

  “Go to hell,” she said, turning her head to the mirror set in the wall. “And you can go to hell too,” she yelled, hoping whoever was on the other side felt the hate in her voice.

  Quick as a Texas rattlesnake, he slapped his hand over her mouth, knocking her head back and nearly tipping the chair over. His fingers dug into the bruise on her cheek as his face dropped dangerously close to hers.

  “Cadence, shut up!” he hissed. “There is nobody on the other side of the mirror right now but if you keep screaming, there will be. I don’t want that and believe me, neither do you. Now, I’m going to remove my hand but you are not going to scream. You got it?”

  His obsidian eyes bored into hers and she would have to be blind not to see the anger boiling in them. And stupid not to be terrified. She was neither. Eyes wide, she nodded.

  “Good,” he said, removing his hand. “Now just cooperate and this will go a lot easier for the both of us.”

  She kept her word and didn’t scream but she wasn’t about to sit there and wonder what was going on. “How do you know my name?”

  Sighing deeply with frustration, he simply stared at her. “It doesn’t matter how I know your name. What matters is that we get out of here fast before we get caught. The others won’t be as nice as I am.”

  “Nice?” The word tore at her throat. “You call this nice?” She heard her voice begin to rise but was unable to stop it. “I’m strapped to a chair in a freezing cold room wearing nothing but my underwear.”

  “Will you keep your voice down?” he hissed. “It’s not my fault you’re here. And trust me,” he said, dropping his eyes to her bare legs, allowing them to slowly climb up her body, “I am more than aware of your . . . attire.”

  Cadence felt the weight of his eyes like a physical touch and the blood drained from her face. Handsome or not, he was not someone to mess around with.

  Dark, dark eyes met hers again. “You are a very beautiful woman, Cadence.”

  Her heart was pounding triple time as she tried to cringe away from him. “Wh-What do you want?”

  An unreadable smile pasted itself on his lips. “Don’t worry, princess, I don’t have any intention of touching you. But the other men here, well, let’s just say they would more than enjoy paying you a special visit. And they probably will if I don’t get you out of here.”

  “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

  “It’s believed you might have some information we need.”

  Cadence shook her head, confused. What could these Russian guys want from her? “What information?”

  “Something your father might have told you or left with you before he came here.”

  “My dad? Is he here?” She felt a surge of hope and looked around anxiously, as if he might be hidden in a distant corner of the room. She returned her attention to the man in front of her. “Where is he? Can I see him?”

  His face hardened, turning it into flesh-covered stone. “No.”

  Her heart stopped. “What do you mean ‘no’?” So much weight in one little word. It slammed into her stomach with the force of a freight train. Involuntarily, her eyes fell to the bloodstain.

  Oh God, is that my dad’s blood? What did they do to him?

  “Cadence, look at me.”

  She couldn’t take her eyes off of the maroon splotch on the floor.

  He grabbed her chin, yanking her head up until she was staring right into his eyes again. “Listen, now is not the time for questions. If you want to stay alive, we have to g
o. I’m going to cut the straps and you’re going to do exactly what I say.” His voice was feather-soft but demanding, leaving her no room for argument.

  She nodded as much as she was able to with his fingers pinching her chin. She could only pray he was one of the good guys. But when he pulled a rather wicked-looking knife from his black boot, she suddenly had her doubts. The long blade gleamed under the lights overhead and she could easily see it slicing through her skin. She closed her eyes, not wanting to look.

  Her arms were pulled backward enough to make her whimper.

  Oh God, this is it. He’s going to kill me.

  But then her arms were free and falling to her sides. She opened her eyes in surprise. Maybe this gorgeous, but terrifying man was really going to help her.

  Bringing her arms around and up to her chest was agony but she welcomed the painful sensation. She flexed her fingers, rejoicing in the pin and needle sensations running through them.

  Her rescuer walked around the chair and dropped to one knee in front of her as if he were about to propose or . . . Absurdly out of place, a series of erotic and inappropriate thoughts raced through her brain. Images of this man down between her knees, placing his hands on her. Her breath caught audibly in her throat.

  Good Lord, how hard had she been hit?

  He had begun to slice through the straps around her ankles but at her gasp, he paused, looking up at her. God, he was beautiful. And dangerous and everything she hated but at that moment, she could have kissed him. Deep and full. Unintentionally, she licked her lips.

  “Maybe once we get out of here, you can thank me properly,” he said, his voice nothing more than a whisper. A dark, lecherous whisper.

  The thought of kissing him was gone in an instant. She might just kick him instead.