Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva Book 4)

by London Miller

  He reached out, his hand hovering next to her face, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch her. She was burned far beyond recognition, but Luka didn’t think Klaus cared about that, not when he was seeing the face of someone else in her place.

  While he was lost in his memories, Mishca turned to look at Luka, his gaze furious, but he was calm as he spoke. “Burn this fucking place to the ground. Leave nothing behind.”

  With a tight nod, Luka waited for him to leave, his phone already in hand, before he dared approach Klaus.

  Slowly, as he came to his feet, Luka realized what it was about Klaus that so many feared, but not until it was too late. He didn’t vibrate with rage the way Mishca did. He didn’t wear his emotions on his sleeve. When he did show he was angry, that was because he actually wanted you to see it, not because he couldn’t contain it.

  Now…Luka was seeing the hidden monster he’d played a part in creating. They all had them, he knew, but it was rare that Klaus showed his.

  “He’s going to die,” he said just loud enough for only Luka to hear, but that didn’t make his words any less powerful. “Whether you like it or not. Stay out of my way, or you can die with him.”

  Scrubbing a hand down his face, Luka got to work.

  ____

  Luka was unusually silent when he picked her back up and they started the journey back to his place. Now that she was seeing him again, she could tell that there was more to his somber moods than Snow.

  She reached for his hand where it rested between them, intertwining her fingers with his, offering him comfort. When he briefly squeezed, she relaxed a little.

  Back at his house, he disappeared into the bathroom and she up into his room. Tomorrow would be another long day of practicing that she couldn’t afford to miss. She packed a bag, dropping in her sweats, tape, and leotard. When she was wrapping the ribbons around her pointe shoes, tucking them into a side pouch, she heard the unmistakable sound of glass breaking, then Loki’s sharp bark.

  Déjà vu hit her as she left the room and headed back downstairs, finding Loki sitting in from of the bathroom door. A quick scan of the room told her she hadn’t heard any glass out there.

  Taking a deep breath, she slipped into the bathroom, shutting Loki out. There wasn’t much space, Luka’s towering frame taking up most of the room.

  But she could see what had happened, judging from the shattered glass of the mirror, the spot of blood in its center.

  “Luka…” She called his name hesitantly, waiting to see his reaction before moving closer.

  His shoulders visibly tightened, but he’d at least stopped the pacing he’d been doing in the tight space of the bathroom. “Yeah.”

  “Can I help?”

  Blood was dripping on the floor from his wounded hand, but he seemed oblivious to the injury or even to the pain she knew he had to be in.

  When he didn’t outright deny her request, she slowly walked in. She circled him until she was at his front, carefully picking up his hand so she could inspect the damage. There were still bits of glass embedded in his flesh, blood oozing out around the shards.

  “Do you have a first-aid kit?”

  He was studying her with such pale, emotionless eyes before he nodded toward the cabinet beneath the sink. She retrieved it along with a pair of tweezers and a bottle of peroxide, setting it all on the counter beside her.

  She was careful as she moved around since there was glass all over the floor and she was only wearing a pair of socks. Luka, realizing this, looped an arm around her waist, lifting her up until she was sitting on the sink, pushing her legs apart so he could stand between them.

  It was hard not to react to him, especially when they were this close. He practically exuded a raw menace, yet she remembered what he had told her once, about how he enjoyed a little pain.

  Swallowing, she cleared her throat, reaching for his hand again, more than a little aware of the other that he had resting beside her hip. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Picking up the tweezers, she doused them with alcohol, pulling his hand closer to her face as she began to painstakingly remove every bit of glass that she could find.

  He was still quiet, but she didn’t rush him for an explanation. To her, they had all the time in the world.

  “What if I’m not who you think I am?”

  She carefully controlled her reaction, not wanting to let him know that the question had caught her off guard. “Then who are you? You can tell me.”

  He sighed, like the weight of the world was back on his shoulders. “You wouldn’t like my answer.”

  “Luka, we’ve talked about this, or at least I talked and you listened. What is it that you think you’ve done that I would hate you for?”

  With his hand free of glass, she poured peroxide over it, dabbing away the excess fluid with cotton balls, and then wrapping his hand with gauze and tape. He had yet to answer her question and didn’t seem like he was going to, at least until she was finished.

  Holding her wrists in his hands, keeping her from touching him further, he forced her to look up at him. There was such misery in the depths of his eyes that she wished for the millionth time that he would just tell her what was eating him just so he could be free of it.

  Nibbling on her bottom lip, she eyed him carefully. “Is this where you tell me that you’re the wrong guy for me? Say that I should stay away from you?”

  “Why the fuck would I do that?”

  “I don’t know, Luka. Why would you do this?” she asked, gesturing to his hand. “Whatever this secret is that you’re hiding…it’s obviously eating at you.”

  The restraint was eating at him, and she almost thought he was going to break, but he shook his head, looking away. “It’s been a long fucking day. I need some sleep.”

  Pushing away from her, he was out of the bathroom before she could utter a protest.

  There was no point in arguing the point with him, not when he wasn’t ready to open himself up. Luka was stubborn that way.

  Up until this point, she had been content to wait for him to come to her, but now…she was frustrated at not being able to help him. Especially when he didn’t seem to want her help.

  Sighing in defeat, she hit the lights, leaving the mess to clean up at another time. Back in his room, she stripped out of her clothes. Climbing into bed, she wished once again that things weren’t so difficult for the pair of them.

  She had only just shut her eyes when Luka brushed her hair back from her face. He was kneeling at her side. “Could you do me a favor?”

  Without hesitation, she said, “Anything.”

  He walked out of the room and down the hall. Another door opened, a flood of light hitting the hallway, then Luka was back as quickly as he’d left, slamming the door shut behind him.

  He carried what looked like a shoebox that was a shade of brown and covered with a light layer of dust. He tossed the lid off the side of the bed, reaching in to pull out a silk pouch that made her sit up, holding the sheet to her chest to better see what he was doing.

  Pulling the strings loose, he turned the pouch over and two hair combs fell out into his palm. He was careful with them, and after a moment, he held them out for her.

  They weren’t new, that much she could tell, but they were in pristine condition. Three prongs tapered to a point at the bottom, but the real beauty of them were the delicate white flowers, not just etched into the metal, but was actually the biggest part of the combs.

  It was obvious that these meant a lot to Luka as he had yet to take his eyes off them, but she was worried about the sadness that radiated from him.

  “When you get your first lead role, I want you to wear these.”

  “Luka…”

  “They were my mother’s,” he explained as he swept her hair to the side with one hand, carefully placing one of the combs there. “They meant a lot to her. You mean more than that to me. I can’t give you much that you can’t give yourself, but this a piece of me that
I won’t…” He trailed off, and not for the first time, she wished she knew what he was thinking. “Keep these, so you’ll always have a piece of me with you.”

  She gave him a shaky smile, nodding though nothing about this felt right. Something was going on with him. Something far beyond what she had originally suspected, and though she had wanted him to come to her about it, she couldn’t wait any longer.

  “What’s troubling you, Luka?” She kept hold of his hand before he could pull away. “And don’t say it’s nothing. I know better than that.”

  He smiled slightly, just the smallest quirk of his lips. “It’ll all be over soon.”

  But that neither answered her question nor quelled her fears.

  37

  ____

  The Glass Coffin

  Now more than ever, Alex was practicing, spending long hours in the studio so she could get ready for the upcoming audition. And the more time she spent there, the more she improved, and soon she found herself going there just because she missed it. Sometimes, she forgot how empty her life had become since she’d left Paris. Finally, after so long, things were looking up.

  Packing up the last of her things, she pulled the strap of her bag on her shoulder and headed for the door.

  The journey from the studio back home wasn’t a long one, and Alex had walked it enough times not to worry about the distance, but as her shoes slapped against the concrete sidewalk, loud in the silence of the night, her fingers flying across the screen of her phone, she was too distracted by the text message she was trying to send to notice the van idling at the curb. It took only a few seconds to pass it, and as she cleared the rear of it, the doors came open and a man slipped out silently.

  She’d just pressed send, her finger still hovering over that button when large hands grabbed her, a dirty cloth reeking of sweetly-smelling fumes shoved in her face. Her phone clattered to the ground as she reacted immediately and violently, trying to free herself.

  Her thoughts scrambled. Every instruction that Luka had ever given her fled from her mind. The only thing she could do was react on instinct, but that wasn’t enough, not when the man was so easily overpowering her. She even tried to hold her breath, but in her panic, she only managed to breathe in more of the fumes.

  Vision beginning to blur, strength weakening, Alex tried one last desperate attempt to get free, but it was too late.

  She was already caught.

  ____

  Consciousness returned slowly, like her head was stuffed with cotton and she was fighting through it all. She didn’t remember, not at first. It was like the world had ceased to exist, if only for a short time.

  For a few precious moments, Alex came awake thinking she was at Luka’s, but as the pungent scent of the earth surrounded her, it all came rushing back. The worst was not knowing how long she had been in there.

  Darkness surrounded her on all sides. She had once found comfort in it, but this felt suffocating. She made to sit up but came up short when her hands came into contact with something hard just above her and to her sides.

  She knew, without having to see, that she was in a coffin, and from what she could feel, it was made of some kind of hard plastic.

  Breathing deeply, she tried not to let the renewed panic get to her. Instead, she made use of her hands, feeling for anything that could help her. Her fingers slipped around something cylindrical, and as she grabbed hold of it and hit the button on the side, yellow light poured from one end of it.

  Hand shaking, she aimed it above her and couldn’t stop the cry of alarm from slipping out of her.

  Someone had buried her alive.

  Reaching over her once more, she laid her hand flat against the surface, pushing with what little strength she had, blood rushing in her ears as she felt it give. Dropping the flashlight, she used both hands now, nearly crying in relief as it moved more, but the hope that had bubbled inside of her was dashed as the top wouldn’t go any further than an inch. Something, something she couldn’t see, was preventing her from moving it any more.

  Every last bit of calm she’d tried to muster vanished as desperation seized her as she shoved and kicked—her shoes missing—trying to get it open. If anything, she would pass out from the exertion, but she wasn’t going to give up. This wasn’t how she was going to die. Just as she readied a cry for help, a voice called out and silenced her.

  “I wouldn’t struggle too much—wouldn’t want you to waste what little oxygen you have.”

  Every part of her rebelled at following that command, but the rational side of her knew that he was right. She had to calm down, and she figured, if he was talking to her, he didn’t plan to leave her down there.

  …Maybe.

  But maybe was all she had.

  Her prison jostled as someone landed on top of it. She didn’t have to wonder who for long as the layer of dirt—not as thick as she had previously assumed—was swiped away, a face appearing above her own.

  He wasn’t frowning at her. There wasn’t any anger in his gaze. In fact, he merely looked…curious, like she was some kind of experiment that he was trying to figure out. She didn’t recognize him, and from what she could see, he lacked the markings that would let her know if he was one of them.

  He was, however, dressed in a suit, the jacket gone, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Whoever he was, Alex didn’t think this was a random occurrence.

  Seeing that he held her attention, his mouth turned up at the corners. His smile grew, and what confused her more was the fact that it was genuine. He brushed more dirt away, giving her a clearer view of the…was that the roof? From what she could tell, she was looking up through the floor, to a hole in another level, until she was squinting, trying to see if she was correct in her thinking.

  “Glad to see that you’re finally awake. I feared I might have killed you.”

  She was too confused and scared to formulate a response, but he filled the silence.

  “I will say that you’re much prettier than the last one.”

  She didn’t bother to ask why she was there—she’d heard on more than one occasion what happened to those in families like hers—the only question was what he sought.

  “Is this about money? My brother—”

  He shook his head before she could finish. “Why do people always assume it’s about the money? Some of us—me, in particular—enjoy the finer things in life. Anguish provides me with far more joy than currency.” His gaze dropped to her face again, his fingers stroking the glass top as if touching her skin.

  Disgusted by the way he was looking at her, she asked, “Who are you?”

  “Fatos, but I doubt you heard of me as I do no business with Russians.”

  Fatos…that name sounded oddly familiar, but she couldn’t place why she knew it. Who was he, and why was she here?

  “Then why am I here? What do you want?”

  Alex didn’t know why she was so calm, not freaked out by the fact that she was literally in a glass box with a madman kneeling above her.

  No, she was afraid, but it had yet to overwhelm her.

  “Tell me. How much do you think your life is worth?”

  “Please,” Alex said, “just tell me what you want.”

  He sighed, rising to his feet as he lifted himself back out of the hole. “You know what I would like? To hear you beg. So, go on. Let’s hear it.”

  Just out of sight, he reached for a tool on the ground, and when he returned, she saw that he was holding a shovel. As the first layer of dirt crumbled down above her, Alex jumped.

  Once, Mishca had told her never to give in to anyone, but at that moment, the only thing she wanted was to get out of that hole.

  She didn’t realize her hands were shaking until she brought them up against the glass, trying to lift it even as she spoke. “Please.”

  “Sorry?” He cupped a hand to his ear, leaning down. “I couldn’t hear you.”

  Desperation seized her, making her frantic as she balle
d her hands into fists, pounding them against her glass prison though the top didn’t move an inch.

  “Please! I can get you whatever you want! Just let me out!”

  Tears stung her eyes…

  Her heart raced…

  Her breaths came in sharp bursts…

  But as quickly as her panic set in, she drew in a breath, clamping her mouth shut. She ignored the pain that bloomed to life as she bit down on her bottom lip, stopping herself from uttering another word.

  Making him an offer wasn’t working, nor was begging for her life. If anything, the sound of her begging only seemed to excite him.

  Whatever his true purpose, it wasn’t for her to know.

  Helpless to do anything more, she watched as the dirt rained down above her, until darkness surrounded her. With each shovelful, she flinched once more.

  She was going to die here

  ____

  “Have you talked to Alex?”

  Niklaus Volkov, or Klaus if you wanted to live, frowned though the person on the other end of the phone couldn’t see it. He’d been busy polishing the barrel of a new semi-automatic he had acquired for the job he’d been putting off for months now.

  With the Kingmaker—his new handler who refused to give his name to anyone—breathing down his neck to get it done, he was out of time…and out of excuses. Even if the job didn’t sit well with him, which was rare in itself, he’d already accepted the contract.

  “Hate to tell you this, but I’m not her keeper,” he mumbled, more focused on his task than Luka. “I’d expect you to know since you’re together.”

  They didn’t have to admit it for Klaus to know. It was easy enough to read whenever they were in the same room together.

  “I’ve called her and she didn’t pick up.”

  “Still not sure what you want me to do about that.”

  It was clear Luka was getting frustrated with him. “You know someone who can.”

  That was true enough. Klaus had friends everywhere, but those friends came at a price. “You’re already dragging your feet in paying one debt. Why would you want another? Shit, why would I accept another?”