Pleasure’s Fury: Masters’ Admiralty, book 3

by Mari Carr

  “He grabbed me when I got out of the car. I’d parked in a multistory car park.”

  “A rental car? And was that the only place you could have parked?”

  “Yes, a rental. And no, I could have parked other places, but that was the most likely.”

  “Walk me through it,” Eric commanded.

  “I parked near the elevator, under a light. I got out. Started walking. Someone grabbed me from behind. I fought.” Leila’s brow was furrowed as she spoke, the words coming in halting sentences, almost like flashes of still images depicting each thing she said. “I got away, called police. I went down the stairs. I wanted the street. People. I was calling for help. Something…he threw something? Hit me. Knocked me down half a flight of stairs.”

  Antonio had to force himself to relax. Imagining Leila running, being hurt, beaten…

  “He caught up with me. Jabbed me with something. Drugged me.” She motioned to Antonio, who’d told them about the GHB vial. “Probably the same thing he used on Karl. I don’t remember much after that, but I do remember thinking I…thinking I would be rescued. I remember hearing police. Remember him sounding scared. Angry.”

  She stopped speaking and looked down at her hands.

  “I think,” Karl said, “that you’re right. I think he had to hide with you. He said something about you making him late coming back.”

  Leila swallowed, then winced—any movement of her neck had to hurt. “I fought, and as a result, you nearly died of dehydration. Karl, I’m so sorry.”

  “No,” Karl said softly. “Never apologize.”

  “He wanted you alive?” Eric asked.

  “Yes,” Karl said. “He was waiting. He said he couldn’t kill us until he had a third.”

  Eric’s head dropped and he clasped his hands together. He looked almost relaxed, until Antonio realized that his knuckles were white, and his shoulder and arm muscles were tensed so hard, the seams of his shirt were straining.

  “Did he give any indication of why he’d selected you two?” Eric asked.

  “No,” Leila replied.

  “And you two have never met before?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you have. Any sex with random masked strangers in the past?”

  “No,” Karl said.

  “Yes, but he was black,” Leila said.

  They all looked at Karl, who was not black.

  “Well, there goes that theory. So the only thing you had in common is that you were away from home. You were traveling.” Eric paused, seeming to consider that. “Were these pre-planned trips?”

  They both nodded.

  “Did you have them noted in any sort of public calendar—I mean your work calendar?”

  “The university arranged my travel,” Karl said.

  “I put the trip details in my work calendar, but I marked it as private.” Leila frowned. “But the details were in there. Not where I was going, specifically, but my flight details.”

  “How did you communicate with the person you were meeting?”

  “An app.”

  “Then it’s possible someone with good computer skills could have figured out where you were going.” Eric leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “While you’ve been here, I’ve been putting the fear of God into the knights from every territory plus the Spartan Guard. I told them I wanted to know what connected you two, and why you two were taken. Smart fucking group of people, and all they could come up with was that you were both traveling.” Eric sat up and pinched his nose. “And it looks like that’s it.”

  “He had a list of members and just looked for people who were traveling?” Karl asked. “That’s…”

  “That’s alarming,” Antonio said. That was a massive understatement.

  “Which means I’m going to issue a travel ban. You want to go somewhere, walk into an airport and book a ticket for that day. No pre-booking. Cancel any and all trips. This should be fun. And by fun, I mean I’m going to spend the next day listening to people bitch.”

  “Inconvenienced is better than being kidnapped and tortured,” Karl said.

  “You know that, I know that, but I have very little faith that I won’t get someone bitching at me.”

  “Who was the third?” Antonio asked.

  “If it was people who were traveling in and around the same days as these two, there are at least fifteen possibles. Everyone on that list was put under the protection of a security officer who has orders to shoot first.”

  Antonio grunted in agreement, and something inside his chest loosened. He hadn’t said anything, but there’d been part of him that was worried that, while he was protecting Karl and Leila, someone else from his territory might be taken. As much as he’d prefer to be the one to guard anyone from his territory on that list, he would never leave Karl and Leila. He would have to trust his fellow security officers.

  “Did Ciril say anything about who the third was?” Eric asked.

  “No, not when we were with him. But now it’s Antonio. You’ll make sure he’s protected too?” Leila asked.

  “Yes,” Eric assured her.

  Antonio shifted, debating adding something, but opted to remain silent. There were a few beats of silence before Karl spoke.

  “When I asked him why he was doing it, he said ‘because I can.’” Karl shifted toward the edge of the bed.

  “Stay still,” Antonio reminded him.

  “No.” The word was a hard snarl, and totally unexpected from the smart and quick-witted Karl. “I will not stay still while talking about what that monster did to us.”

  Antonio pictured Karl, immobile and helpless. He nodded understanding and helped Karl stand up, making sure his IV didn’t tangle. Karl was at first unsteady on his feet, but soon found his balance. He stood, pain and suffering etched in the lines of his face. He raised his hand as if to push at something on his face, then dropped it back to his side.

  “When I asked him how he’d kill us, he said in a way the world had never seen before.”

  “Like he did with the trinity from Rome,” Eric said quietly.

  “So now we have a name for the Domino?” Leila asked.

  Antonio shifted, again debating if he should speak up. Eric had reminded him that it was not his place to investigate. The investigation would be turned over to other people. He was not so naive as to think that he’d be allowed to continue to work the case, especially now that he was a potential target.

  Antonio glanced at Karl, then frowned. Karl was shaking his head slowly. Antonio raised a brow. Their gazes met, and something passed between them.

  Antonio looked at the fleet admiral. “I don’t think Ciril is the Domino.”

  “Neither do I,” Karl said.

  Eric grabbed handfuls of his own hair. “Of course he isn’t. There are a thousand fucking suspects, and not one of them is our head bad guy.” He tugged his hair a few times, then slumped back in his chair. “Why?”

  “He never mentioned the Masters’ Admiralty,” Karl said. “From the research we…I…did, the Domino should have a deep, almost religious conviction that we are evil. Sinful. Ciril didn’t use language like that.”

  “But he must know who we are. He apparently has a goddamned roster,” Eric pointed out. “You two aren’t random kidnappings. He had a bike messenger—a fucking bike messenger—deliver a threat to a Masters’-Admiralty-controlled business in Rome.”

  “I didn’t say I had an answer,” Karl replied.

  “No one does.”

  Antonio cleared his throat. “I asked him where he’d gotten the paintings and coins. The ones in the cave. He was confused. He didn’t know what I was talking about. Same when I asked him about the Domino.” Antonio had been turning that bit of information over and over in his mind.

  Eric folded his arms. “No. Do not suggest he was—”

  “An accomplice?” Leila was leaning forward.

  “An accomplice,” Antonio agreed, having come to that unsettling conclusion himself.

&nb
sp; “Maybe he’s the Domino’s apprentice. Or perhaps it would be more accurate at this point to say one of many apprentices,” Karl said.

  “Ten thousand apprentices. Fuck me.” Eric slumped farther in his chair.

  “But,” Antonio added, “when I asked who he worked for, he said himself.”

  “Yes, yes.” Karl nodded in excitement. “It seemed important to him to be remembered.”

  “He said that to me also.”

  “Then what if,” Leila slid off the bed, “he’s the apprentice, but he’s gone rogue? Not doing what he should.”

  “Rogue apprentice. Why not?” Eric threw his hands in the air.

  They ignored him.

  “He killed the trinity in my territory,” Antonio said. “Placed them in the cave.”

  “But the Domino put the clues in. The coins and art.” Karl kept reaching for something on his face. Glasses. He’d been wearing glasses in the video from the train station. Antonio would get them replaced.

  “Maybe Ciril doesn’t know anything about us yet. The Domino hasn’t told him everything.” Leila shivered, and Antonio put his arm around her, pulling her against his side. He wouldn’t let her be cold. Not again. Karl, moving slowly to make sure his IV didn’t tangle, went to her other side.

  “A half-brainwashed, rogue apprentice.” Eric rose from his chair. His gaze slid over each of them in turn, taking in their body language, the way they’d huddled together. “Right now, you three are to stay together. Yes, Antonio, even you. Rome will have to do without you. Rest. Heal. Talk to a therapist. That’s an order.”

  Antonio nodded his understanding of his orders, both spoken and unspoken. Part of him wanted to go out after Ciril, to be the one who hunted him down. He’d made a choice, and the result was Ciril was still on the loose. It had been the right choice—Leila and Karl’s lives were the right choice—but there was one thing left to say.

  “We will stay together, and we will not investigate—”

  “What?” Leila demanded. “I want to—”

  “—but, Fleet Admiral, there is something else.” Antonio raised his voice slightly, ignoring the glare from Leila.

  Eric folded his arms. “There always is. Out with it, Starabba.”

  “Ciril won’t stop. He might switch targets.”

  “We’re watching anyone he might have targeted.” Eric looked impatient.

  Antonio glanced at Leila, then Karl, and finally back to the fleet admiral. “You can’t guard everyone. If we could keep him focused on me, it might stop him from targeting others.”

  “He’s right. Use us as bait,” Leila demanded. “I will not hide and lick my wounds while someone else suffers.”

  “No, I’ll be the bait,” Karl said. “He didn’t torture me.”

  “He strapped you to a chair and starved you.”

  “He beat you.” Karl’s jaw muscle worked. “He beat you over and over again and I couldn’t stop him or help you and…and…” Karl looked away.

  Leila made a pained noise. “You saved me. You saved me. When I would have given up, you made me stand.” She turned into Karl’s arms.

  Antonio let her go and walked over to Eric. The fleet admiral stood and lowered his voice. “How bad was it?”

  “Bad,” Antonio said.

  “You take care of them. Protect them. Make sure they heal. Here, and here.” Eric touched his temple and breastbone. “That’s your priority. We’ll find him, without using anyone as bait.”

  “I will, Fleet Admiral.”

  “If you think of anything, anything that might help us figure out who he was going after next, call me.”

  “I will let Lorenzo—”

  “No. Now is not the time for that chain-of-command bullshit. Information comes directly to me.”

  “Yes, Fleet Admiral.”

  Eric rolled his shoulders, like a boxer about to enter the ring. “Now I just have to figure out a way to keep a thousand different people, spread across a whole continent, from getting kidnapped and tortured.”

  “In bocca al lupo.” It was an old Italian expression that meant good luck, but the literal translation was “go into the wolf’s mouth.”

  Either way, it seemed appropriate.

  Chapter Eight

  Leila sighed, watching the sunlight dance across the Venetian lagoon. A girl could get used to this. She’d grown up outside Kajaani, which meant she was acclimated to the cooler temperatures that were characteristic of Finland. While she had always loved snow—she was an avid skier—she had to admit there was something to be said for warm sunshine and gentle breezes.

  She and Karl had remained in the hospital for two days. During that time, Antonio had never left their sides, spending the first night in the hard chair positioned to block the door. The nurses had loved him.

  The second night, they’d convinced him to allow the hospital staff to bring in a cot, while Milo stood watch just outside the door.

  After the hospital released them, they’d had a security detail escort back to the villa, where they’d continued to rest and recuperate with daily visits from a nurse, who checked their wounds and changed bandages. This morning was the first time in a week she’d woken up and felt like herself—physically. The bruises were fading and the soreness in her muscles had alleviated. She still felt the painful twinges from her bruised ribs whenever she moved too quickly, but even that had lessened.

  It was her mental state that seemed altered…changed.

  Leila wondered if it was possible to beat someone’s personality out of them. Because that was honestly what this felt like.

  One moment, she had the feeling of being back, powerful, ready to take on the world. Then, she’d be consumed by anxiety, terrified. She’d never experienced this crippling helplessness, but whenever she let down her guard, her memory drifted back to that moment when her feet had slipped out from under her and the chain tightened around her neck.

  She’d jerked awake the past three nights, returning to that basement every time she closed her eyes.

  After leaving the hospital, they’d each taken their own rooms in the safe house. She had one bedroom on the second floor, Karl the other. Antonio had claimed the master suite on the main floor, though given the ever-darkening circles under his eyes, Leila doubted he spent much time sleeping.

  That suspicion had been proven correct last night when she’d awoken with a soft cry after yet another nightmare. Antonio had been by her bed within seconds, asking if she was all right.

  He had claimed he’d been checking on Karl, whose recovery was slower, but there was something about the way he’d avoided direct eye contact that told her he’d been lying. That he’d been positioned outside their doors, ready to defend and protect them.

  “Leila.”

  She glanced up from her lounger, smiling when Antonio stepped next to her, a cup of hot tea in his hands.

  “You spoil me,” she said.

  In typical fashion, his brows furrowed into a frown. “You deserve more than just tea.” There were things he didn’t say, but she could read them in his expression. You were hurt. You suffered.

  There were times she wanted to run away from both Antonio and Karl. Maybe if she got away from these people who had seen her at her worst, she could forget.

  But forgetting was like running. Like cowardice, and the Leila she had been wouldn’t do that.

  “I’m much better, Antonio.” She gestured to the lounger next to her. “Join me.”

  He glanced around, doing a visual inspection of their surroundings. She grinned. She had done the same thing when she’d walked outside.

  Antonio hadn’t exaggerated about the security measures in place around the villa. There were foreign embassies and military bases that had less security.

  He sat down, but unlike her, he didn’t look at the water. She flushed slightly under his scrutiny.

  Finally, he said, “You look better.”

  She smiled, then asked the question that had plagued her all morn
ing. “Do you sleep in the hallway outside our doors?”

  Antonio didn’t give her a direct answer, but his response told her what she wanted to know anyway. “You have nightmares.”

  She nodded. It was pointless to deny that.

  “That’s not unusual. Given what you… What happened to you.”

  She understood that, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to accept. The nightmares made her feel weak and that bothered her. Deeply.

  She had always prided herself on her strength, her courage.

  The dreams, the flashbacks, the constant wondering if there was something she could have done better or different, were driving her mad.

  “Would you accept that if you were the one experiencing the nightmares?”

  Antonio didn’t hesitate to answer. He shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t. I would seek a way to make them stop.”

  She nodded slowly. “I think…” She paused, wondering how he’d take what she was about to say. “I think we are very similar people…under the skin.” Before Antonio could reply, she continued, “I think we’d be very good in bed together.”

  “I agree.”

  It wasn’t Antonio who’d spoken, but Karl, who had somehow managed to get within hearing distance without either of them noticing. Leila could see Antonio was as bothered by that as she was. Neither of them were on top of their game today. She was still recovering, still suffering from the flashbacks. And Antonio was tired. Very, very tired.

  Antonio stood up quickly, gesturing to the lounger. “Sit down. I thought you were resting.”

  Karl was wearing his glasses—they’d arrived a few days ago. Antonio had somehow managed to find Karl’s optometrist, get his prescription, and order the glasses. Karl looked more professorial with them on. He didn’t move toward the lounger. “I’m tired of resting. Besides, the interesting conversations are happening out here.”

  He walked toward Leila’s lounger. She pulled her ankles toward her ass gingerly—the position more stiff than painful today—freeing the bottom half of the lounger for Karl, who sat down. He was moving more easily than in previous days. Perhaps he’d turned a corner as well.

  “Leila, I believe you were talking about sex. With Antonio.”