Bound Together

by Christine Feehan

  Bats wheeled and dipped, catching insects, and a few lone stars shone through. A fog bank moved steadily toward them from the coast. Sandlin lived outside of Occidental, along an older, well-maintained road. His private road branched off from the older one. Houses had been few and far between. One ranch had several mournful-looking cows, and another had a herd of sheep kept watch over by a very large Great Pyrenees who kept a wary eye on them as they passed by.

  "Alena, you stay with the bikes," he ordered.

  She rolled her eyes. "Seriously? Why me? Because I'm the girl?"

  "That's right. You don't need to be doing this shit anymore." His tone brooked no argument.

  "Maybe I want to do it," she muttered rebelliously, but she turned back to yank a blanket out of her pack and throw it down by the line of motorcycles.

  "Babe." Viktor waited until she looked up. "None of us should want to be doing this kind of thing. We're turning over a new leaf."

  "I call bullshit," she snapped back. "Just because we're going all official, don't think you can relegate Lana and me to the position of old lady."

  His jaw hardened. A muscle ticked there. The silence stretched out. "Are you in any way putting my woman down?" There was menace in his tone and he felt rage rising, the berserker rage he strove to keep under control when it was with one of his brothers or sisters.

  Alena shook her head quickly. "Of course not. I didn't mean it like that. We formed Torpedo Ink together, Czar. All of us. Lana and me as well. We were as much a part of that as all of you, and now suddenly, I'm not wanted in on the action."

  "Do you think I want any of you torturing or killing someone?" He all but snarled it. "I've been working my ass off trying to get us to a place where we have a choice in what we do. All of us, but yes, you and Lana especially. We have two sisters left out of how many? Every time your life is on the line all of us hold our fuckin' breath. We survive because you did. You might not value your life or think it's important, but to us, it is. I'm not putting you in harm's way if I don't have to, you get me?"

  She nodded. "Yes, but we need some damn prospects the minute we're settled because I don't want to sit around twiddling my thumbs watching your bikes."

  He caught her by the nape of her neck and hauled her to him. "You get that you're important, right?"

  She hesitated but then nodded. "I get it, Czar."

  "Watch sharp. We don't know what setup this bastard has. My guess is he's paranoid as hell. Worried the cops are going to come nosing around or some of his other friends he's probably blackmailing. Code looked at that site and it's set up to gather all kinds of information. Their little friends they've invited to join from all around the world are probably getting blackmailed. That makes him doubly dangerous. He might have patrols this far out."

  She nodded again. "I have no problem with that. Might be entertaining since I didn't bring my book."

  Ice snorted. She glared at her brother. "You implying I can't read?" she snapped.

  Ice held up both hands in mock surrender. "Just saying, baby sister, you can read, you just don't." He smirked at her.

  Alena flipped him off and threw herself on the blanket. The men moved into the heavier brush, spacing about five feet from one another, slipping into their normal personas. They were phantoms. Ghosts. Assassins. This was what they'd been shaped into all those years ago and the fit was perfect, settling into their skins easily.

  They didn't speak because they didn't need to. They'd perfected their skills as a team when they were children, some as young as two and three. They might have been sent out as adults individually to do Sorbacov's dirty work, but they were essentially a team and always would be.

  A dog barked in the distance. Viktor held up a fist and pointed to the thickest tree. Transporter went up it fast, climbing with speed that always astonished Viktor. In another life, Transporter would have made it big. He devoured books and retained everything he read. He could actually learn languages in a few hours. His hand-eye coordination and reflexes were astonishing, making it easy for him to drive at high speed. More, he was a human GPS, mostly, Viktor was certain, because of the maps he devoured in his spare time, but also because he just was.

  The hoot of an owl sounded from above them, out of the higher limbs, four times. Viktor wanted to swear. Four dogs patrolled with their handlers. They didn't like killing animals if they could help it. The dogs were just doing their jobs. It wasn't their fault they worked for one of the biggest networks of pedophiles in the world.

  He circled in the air with his finger and pointed to Reaper. The man had a gift--one that allowed him to move through impossible situations, including dogs. Once in a while, whatever trick he used didn't work, and it was left to Savage to keep his brother alive by whatever means necessary.

  Savage was quick and deadly, just like his older brother. Neither talked much to outsiders and both meant what they said. No one laid a hand on them unless it was one of the brothers--and only then if they wanted a beating. Reaper and Savage came into the school together along with two older sisters. All four children were from a privileged family, doted on by loving parents. The children had seen their family brutally murdered right in front of them.

  Savage and Reaper had been targeted by two of the cruelest, most brutal pedophiles in the school. Their sisters had tried to protect them, and both had paid the ultimate price, but only after being raped, beaten and tortured in front of the two little boys. Viktor had been fourteen by then and when the bodies of the two girls had been left in the "dungeon" with the boys, drawing rats and flies, he had stepped in. He couldn't let things go on as they were. He made up his mind to stop those running the school--and for the most part, over time, he'd managed to do just that. But that beginning had taken a toll on the two brothers.

  He watched over them carefully now, uncertain what kind of life either could lead. Every single survivor was fucked-up, but in their world, Savage and Reaper were the question marks. The two played for keeps. They often fought in underground fights. At first it had been for quick money, but Code had taken care of all the money problems. He had cleaned out more than one criminal nest with no way to trace the devastation back to them. Torpedo Ink had more than enough money to give them all a good life. Now, Viktor knew, Reaper and Savage fought because they had to. They needed to feel fists hitting solidly into flesh. To feel those fists hitting them. It wasn't something Viktor could stop so he didn't try.

  They continued to inch closer to the large, ornate wrought iron fence surrounding the property. Viktor spotted the first of the four dog handlers with a big Doberman. The dog was a big brute, a "Warlock," one much larger than the normal breed. Dog and handler were outside the fence and moving in a clockwise circle around the property, but delving into the woods, going along well-worn trails. They seemed to be headed straight toward the spot where Viktor knew Reaper was concealed.

  Suddenly the wind changed direction, picking up speed, moving fast toward the house and away from Reaper. Ice and Storm were doing their jobs, keeping their brother safe. The dog couldn't possibly catch a scent with all of them now downwind.

  The dog was a beautiful animal, and Viktor knew it only had minutes to live if they kept on course. Savage would kill it first and then the handler. Whatever gift or talent Reaper had to make people and animals look the other way, now was the time to employ it. He waited, his body still, his heart rate normal. This was a world he lived in most of the time and he was used to the danger. He was cautious, but everything was very familiar to him.

  The handler suddenly changed course, looking toward the west, away from Reaper, moving quickly in that direction. Viktor sighed with relief. Savage would have killed both before they got to his brother, but still, there was always a chance the guard might shoot first.

  He joined the two men. Reaper shook his head. "They have more than four dogs, Czar. The place is totally wired, cameras, mics everywhere. Sandlin is definitely paranoid and he's into electronics big-time."

&n
bsp; His men gathered around him. Reaper, Savage, Ice, Storm, Mechanic, Transporter and Absinthe, the ones who generally ran any mission with him. The vice president of their club, Steele, ran the missions with the other eight members. They were used to working with one another and performed like a finely tuned machine. Each had their gifts and particular skill set.

  "I can take them out, Czar," Savage offered, his tone strictly neutral.

  Viktor glanced at him. The man was young, but his eyes looked old. There was no expression on his face. He would do it, kill the dogs and men if Czar asked him to, but the scars were there. Viktor shook his head. He wasn't adding more, not now when he had them all perched right on the edge of their goal. So close. He could give them a life. Blythe was there to help him. To show him what he needed to do.

  Already he'd seen the shift in them. They had included her in their circle. She was his, and that meant she was theirs. Just that acceptance of another human being into their family was miraculous. None of them trusted an outsider. They kept to themselves and looked to one another for backup.

  "We've got Mechanic," Viktor pointed out. "We'll do it the way we used to at the school. It's good practice for us."

  "I mess up his cameras he's going to hard alert," Mechanic said, confident that he could.

  With his brother Transporter, Mechanic worked on all their bikes. He was just as good with cars. Viktor had seen his drawings of custom cars and bikes, and they were really good. The hope was a shop where Transporter and Mechanic could do what they loved in peace. Mechanic could mess with anything electronic. Something in his body radiated enough energy to disrupt any electrical signal.

  "Not if we provide him with good reasons," Viktor said. "Ice and Storm can do their thing, bring a limb or two down on power lines. Start picking up the wind, bring it in just enough to beat at his windows and drive his outer guards closer to shelter."

  "You got it," Storm said.

  Ice just nodded. He had three teardrops tattooed on his left side, as if he were crying. He'd done it because he never cried. He couldn't cry. He rarely, if ever smiled, but then, smiling or laughing wasn't that common. Mostly with one another. It was never real with outsiders.

  Viktor and the others moved deeper into the woods, getting off the path the guard dogs and their handlers took. As they walked, he put his hand on Savage's shoulder, something rare. He felt Savage's body stiffen and then shudder under the gentle pressure, as if just being touched hurt. Still, Viktor did it, trying to get the man used to it.

  "Didn't want to kill those dogs," Savage muttered.

  "Me either," Viktor confirmed.

  "Would have done it, if you needed me to," Savage added.

  "I know, but it wasn't necessary." Viktor removed his hand casually, wishing Blythe could give him some advice on how to handle the nightmares and the effects of the trauma that continued even now when they were all supposedly free.

  He believed in her--had the utmost faith in her--and that hadn't been misplaced. Five long years without a single word from him and she had taken him back when most women, after what she'd gone through, wouldn't have even considered it. There wasn't another woman like her. He worshipped the ground she walked on. He loved and admired everything about her. He knew she'd take in traumatized children without so much as batting an eyelash. That was Blythe. His Blythe.

  "You're thinking about her," Savage said, startling him.

  He nodded tersely. He had to be more careful. Protect her. He never wanted an outsider to be able to read his feelings for his woman.

  "How did you know she was the one for you?"

  Viktor shrugged, wishing he had magic words to make the world right for all of them. He knew the others were listening. They wanted to know as well. Already, Blythe had given them hope that maybe there were other women out there who would accept them with all their flaws and issues. "The moment I laid eyes on her, heard her laughter, saw the way she treated others, I just knew. It felt like something hit me hard, I mean really hard, right in the chest." He grinned at them. "You know how we control our cocks? We decide if we want to fuck someone. That went right out the window with her. I see her and my cock is ready. Not just ready, it's fighting for all the attention. There's no controlling that."

  Laughter erupted, but it was muffled. They were very cognizant of being in a danger zone. A few of them looked a little skeptical, and he couldn't blame them. One of the most difficult and disturbing lessons they'd learned was control of their bodies at all times no matter what was being done to them--and a lot had been done to them.

  He glanced over at Ice and Storm. They spread out, putting a good ten feet between them. Both had stopped, were completely motionless. He knew they were communicating telepathically. They could use the weather, harness the power of storms for their own purposes. It was all about energy and projecting that energy where they wanted or needed it.

  Both looked up, searching the power lines and the trees. Storm nodded, and Ice moved out of the center of the woods and the heavier brush concealing them to the wider hiking trail. Immediately, Absinthe slipped around to the other side, guarding his back.

  Reaper, Savage, Transporter and Mechanic waited with Viktor to be in position as close to the fence as possible, waiting for Ice and Storm to take out the electricity. The two brothers had chosen the tree limbs they wanted to bring down. Now it was a matter of doing so as naturally as possible. The wind shrieked, tearing through the trees straight toward the Gothic-looking mansion.

  Sandlin wanted nobility so he'd had a castle built out in the woods at the end of his long private drive off a road with few neighbors. The house was a monster, with gargoyles staring out along the rooftops and round turrets. There were few lights on, but the ones that shone through the windows were a yellowish-green, like the eyes of a predatory cat.

  Viktor stiffened. The house had been built for secrecy and to make anyone entering uneasy. More, out in the middle of nowhere, in a house that large, Sandlin could do anything he wanted. He could entertain in his living room, even have a dinner party and hold a child prisoner downstairs in the basement and no one would ever know. He was perverse enough to enjoy that kind of thing. Viktor knew because he had studied his online persona. Sandlin was the one encouraging others to take sexual advantage of children, declaring the children loved it and society refused to recognize their needs.

  A gust of wind battered at the house, rattling the windows, shrieking to get inside. Dogs and guards moved inside the gate, out of the woods, knowing it was dangerous in a storm to be where branches could fall on them. Sensitive to the energy hurtling through the air toward the house, the dogs roared and leapt to the end of their leashes, barking ferociously. Their handlers reprimanded them and yanked them away from the fence back toward the shelter of their kennels.

  The wind retreated and was quiet a moment, as if taking a deep breath, and then once again it rushed the house, howling with rage, throwing twigs, leaves and debris at the sides and windows. The lights flickered, went brown and then glowed again a garish yellow.

  Sorry, buddy, Viktor whispered in his mind to the child he was certain was being held in the basement. He'd been in a similar situation for years, and he knew what it was like when the lights went off and it was pitch-black. The rats came out--human and otherwise.

  He shuddered and turned his head to look up at the chosen tree. It swayed and rocked with the force of the winds. The wind rose to a shriek of glee as it tore the limb from the tree and hurled it into the power line. The lights flickered a second time, went off and then came back on.

  "He'll have a generator," Mechanic warned.

  Viktor nodded. "One thing at a time. We'll be able to locate it easier by the sound. Ice and Storm can keep this up and the dogs and handlers won't be able to be out. We'll be in position the moment we know they've knocked out the cameras. We'll only have a few seconds."

  The team was already moving to the woods just outside the fence. The patrols had a good six to eig
ht feet of bare ground between the woods and the fence, but Sandlin had wanted to keep the forest close. It protected him as much as it was a threat.

  The buildup of electricity in the air was shocking in its intensity. He hoped Ice and Storm were careful of starting a fire. The sound of lightning cracking across the sky and a tree splintering simultaneously was loud. At once the lights were off. Viktor and the others ran to the fence, were up and over it, counting seconds as they ran. They'd already chosen their places of concealment and were in them before the generator began to power up.

  The estate had extensive gardens. Sandlin believed in every luxury. He also relied heavily on his cameras and sound equipment. The generator began to hum and then the noise was very loud. Right next to Viktor. At first he didn't see the cement pad artfully hidden by the lacy bushes surrounding it. The generator was on the pad, encased in a wooden housing. Viktor shook his head. Sandlin had spared no expense on his elaborate house, but something as important as a generator he'd skimped on. He was from the city and probably didn't think too much about it when locals told him he'd need a generator, and then he simply hadn't bothered to upgrade. Good for them, bad for him.

  The wind shifted minutely, giving the house a brief respite. An owl hooted. Just once. That meant the generator was located close to Czar. Absinthe answered him from the woods. Message received. Mechanic had to move without being spotted.

  The buildup of electricity had the hair on Viktor's body standing on end. Cursing, he went down to his belly and lay flat in the heavy foliage. Lightning cracked across the sky and thunder roared almost simultaneously. Side lightning and forks split the night sky, lighting up the grounds as the bolts rained down. He knew it was necessary to keep the guards and dogs inside until the others were over the fence. No one could move around in such a dangerous storm--including them.

  Thunder cracked and shook the ground as the lightning receded from the main house, moving east toward the barracks. As soon as it did, Mechanic made his way through the garden on his belly, using elbows and toes, utilizing the plants for coverage. He sent a quick grin to Viktor as he eased up beside the generator.