Obsidian Music
Copyright 2016 Scarlett Dawn
First Edition
All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of these publications may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Photography: SC Photo
Cover Model: Tommy Barresi
Editing by RMJ Manuscript Service, LLC
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Copyright
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
Epilogue
About the Author
Preview of Cold Mark (Mark, Book 1)
Preview of Game Master
Preview of Chosen Thief
“Get out! Everyone, get out!” I screamed interrupting a call Artur was having with someone on his phone. His gun was drawn in his other hand. “It’s a fucking gas mask! They’re going to gas everyone!” I held up said mask. I had no clue who the hell was coming, but they weren’t coming in with guns. They were smarter than that.
The new guys, Vadim and Abram, stared at what I held for all of a beat before they lunged at the doors—just as a hissing echoed in the room above our heads.
“Put the mask on,” Artur demanded sharply, coming to stand in front of me. Vadim and Abram aimed at the door when it wouldn’t open—even though they had just come through it. He held the phone up to my ear. “It’s Papa.”
I stared into Artur’s calm but fierce eyes.
Over the line, Daniil said, “Beth, put the mask on. Put it on now. Stay alive for me, my sweet. Stay. Alive.”
I choked, and the world went a little blurry.
Artur stumbled but put his gun away, taking the mask out of the package. He placed it up to my face. I ripped it away long enough to say, “I love you, Daniil.”
He was so calm. “I love you, too. Now put on the mask.”
I did. Right before I started coughing.
Whatever the hissing sound was had to be gas filtering through the ventilation system.
Artur fell to his knees, putting the phone back up to his ear. He slurred, “I’ll leave the phone on.”
Katie and Mary both sagged against me, and Roman grabbed Mary as she began to fall.
I saw it all around me through the screen of the mask. I could hear Artur giving a description of what had happened. Ember was back on her phone, even as her head hit the tiles, talking drunkenly to Grigori. He was screaming loud enough to be heard over the line and the heckling of the gas. The bodyguards fell almost as one. Katie slid down my body too fast. I caught her, but just barely, lying her down gently.
All of this. It had happened in less than ten seconds.
My head was swimming. I puffed in air, the sound like Darth Vader, through the mask.
Nevertheless, I wasn’t stupid.
In times of crisis, you find out what you’re made of. I understood that now.
Sudden clarity hit like the ringing of bells.
I knew what I had to do as I stared down at everyone coughing and passing out.
Only slightly shaking, I ran across the room and started tugging the only cover I could find for them. The table with the long golden tablecloth on it for gifts barely even squeaked thanks to the rubber on the stands, but it was heavy, and I was grunting with each movement, wearing myself down quickly.
I couldn’t see around the mask all that well, and I almost tripped over Artur. No one was awake anymore, and I knew I didn’t have much time, so I quickly heaved the table over them, and then got down on my hands and knees and pushed Daniil’s kids and Ember under the table better. Whoever was after me would be after them, too. My cousins would even get a second glance.
I had barely finished stuffing Roman’s hand under the table when I heard a click at the door. The same doors that were so damn sturdy and old Vadim and Abram hadn’t been able to open again. And I jumped away from the table, seeing why when the doors opened all the way. They had barred the doors. The twenty masked men who entered the room had pulled the long donations table away from it to get inside. The table that sat just outside the cafeteria for those who forgot to donate during service.
I was panting, but I stood rigid. I wasn’t going to be taken. I had now heard so many stories of what happened to the people of this family when they were abducted. It was nothing I wished to go through. When I saw a small break in their masked group, I lunged.
I actually got pretty damn far before I was grabbed from behind. I fought. I fought so damn hard…but the man who held me wasn’t letting go. He took every elbow, punch, bite, kick, and headbutt I had to give without flinching.
Then I heard laughter.
It sounded like Darth Vader, so I knew it was a bad guy…er…woman. She had tits. I saw that when she stepped in front of me while I continued to struggle with my captor. I glared at whoever it was, staring at a face behind a mask, only catching a glimpse of brown or green eyes. I couldn’t decide which before she looked away still laughing.
Apparently, she and a man who walked up beside her were the ringleaders here.
“I thought you said Daniil’s kids were here,” said the masked man with a Russian accent.
“They were.” She glanced around the room, her voice also had a Russian accent, and she shook her masked head. “They must have left. We need to go. Now. Before they come back.”
I kept struggling, but I was getting weaker. I was tiring myself out. And I made sure not to look anywhere near my pathetic hiding place for Artur, Roman, and Ember. It was damn obvious in my opinion with the table in the middle of the room as it was, but luckily, the tablecloth had hidden them completely.
“Wait. Is that Ember Lerrus?” the man asked, striding to Mary.
“No! It’s my cousin!” I shouted. “Mary! It’s my cousin Mary, not Ember!” Mary’s fucking hair was strawberry blonde, not fire engine red! But, with horror, I could see how they would mistake her for Ember.
The guy bent down, yanking Mary’s face into the light, and I screamed at him to stop…and he did, dropping her head back on the ground. Standing, he shook his head, stating, “It’s not her.”
“Let’s go then,” the woman stated, but both she and the man pulled out their guns. “Take her to the van. We’ll be there shortly.”
WAnd with a new terror filling my veins, I saw the man and woman take aim on my six bodyguards. I scrambled against the hold of the brute behind me as he started carting me out of the room, trying to stop this…but I wasn’t strong enough. While I screamed and struggled, the man and woman kill each one of my six guards. A single shot to the head.
I held onto the door screaming, staring around the corner into the room as they then moved onto Ruslan, Vadim, and Abram…but the woman held up her hand. They both glanced to the right. I couldn’t hear a damn thing, and my mind was mush as I stared blindly at Trofim’s dead body, but they both started running out of the room, yelling to mov
e.
I was yanked from the door, my stomach wanting to expel everything it contained as I was thrown over the guy’s shoulder. Everyone started running toward the back of the church. I kept screaming all through their mad rush through the church. Finally getting my hearing back, I sucked in as a loud banging erupted at the front of the church. It gave me hope, so I lifted and screamed even louder.
My hope was short lived as the lights went out, when I was bashed on the side my head.
Waking, my head was being tugged and buzzing sounded in my ear. I lay flat on my stomach on a thin mattress, and my jaw was killing me. I tasted blood in my mouth. There were two people behind me—a woman and a man speaking Russian. Another jerk of my head brought my eyes open fully as memories invaded.
I had been kidnapped. And I was still being held, I realized as I started struggling, only to figure out my hands were handcuffed behind my back, and my feet were also cuffed to something that clinked.
I started to scream again…and again.
I was hit on the side of the face, and the lights went out.
The next time I woke, it was dark, no lights except for moonlight that streamed in. I closed one eye since I had apparently lost a contact somewhere and squinted up to a large window. I was still on my stomach, handcuffed, my jaw hurt, and my left temple throbbed. I moved my tongue around inside my mouth and winced as I realized the inside of my cheek had been split open.
I wiggled, trying to see if I could get loose, but the handcuffs were so tight I was in danger of losing circulation.
“Aw. She’s awake,” a man said from my right with a heavy Russian accent.
I swung my head in his direction and felt an odd breeze on my head. It felt strange—while I squinted with one eye at the man sitting quietly a few feet away, I shook my head.
With the cool sensation, I realized…I was bald. I had no more hair.
“You took my hair?” I asked in a croak, swallowing when my throat scratched badly. “You kidnap me to shave my head?”
“No,” a woman stated further behind him with the same accent, but I couldn’t see her clearly in the darkness. As it was, they were still masked, but only without the gas masks. “Your hair is too recognizable. We had to get rid of it.”
I sucked in a breath, glancing around. I was on a makeshift cot, and the area appeared like some kind of basement. The walls were tall with windows rimming the ceiling right before the wooden planked ceiling. A quick look to my left only showed more of the same, but with stairs leading up and another set leading down. “Are you holding me for ransom?” I was praying they were. That would be my luckiest option.
The women chuckled, and the man said, “No. You are going to die, Ms. Forter.” He paused. “But not before you give birth to those babies inside your womb. Once they’re born, we will kill you. If you behave, we promise to make your death as painless as possible.”
My vision blurred, and my breath caught as I stared. “What do you mean?”
“Your babies,” the woman stated, still laughing. “Actually, we want Daniil’s babies.”
At that declaration, I threw up.
They started cursing, but it was only white noise as the day’s events fully registered. I had no doubt in my mind these two psychos were serious. Trofim’s head exploding kept repeating inside my mind’s eye. And then each bodyguard’s head. I choked and continued to puke, hardly noticing when the man yanked my bare head from the cot so I could throw up into a wastebasket.
This kept up for some time until I understood why my two delusional captors were cursing even more. I could hear gunshots. Faintly. From above. A whole shit ton of it.
I swallowed down the rest of my puke and started screaming. The woman slapped me hard enough that my head banged against another wall, cutting off my shouts. But I started back up. I needed to get the fuck out of here! They wanted what was mine! Never did I think I would feel such a possessive urge inside me, but these people wanted my babies. And they were fucking mineminemine.
The woman slapped me again as the man started to remove the cuffs from my feet. She yanked me to my feet and shoved me toward the stairs. I stumbled, but I was good with the direction. I raced toward the flight of stairs, only to be yanked back hard against a solid chest.
The man hissed, “Down. Not up, Ms. Forter.”
“Fuck you,” I stated harshly.
He grabbed my chin, and tugged my face toward his, jerking my neck back at a horrible angle. “I can make that happen if you’d like.” He smiled with a perfect set of pearly whites.
I choked and started screaming again.
The woman started barking at the man in Russian so that I couldn’t understand. It wasn’t hard to comprehend, though when the man slammed my body against the wall next to the stairs, face first, and stuffed a rag in my mouth. I tried to move, to make it to those rapid gunshots, but with my hands handcuffed behind my back, I wasn’t going anywhere. He tied another rag—bandana, maybe—between my teeth and around my head, keeping the rag inside my mouth, muffling my shouts.
He picked me up over his shoulder and started racing after the woman who had disappeared down the stairs, instead of up to my escape. I bounced on his shoulder, wiggling, so my ribs took the brunt of it instead of my stomach. And looked around the dark area. We had gone through some door, and it appeared as if we were still in the heart of the city, going through old subway tunnels of some sort.
No matter how hard I fought to get free or tried to surprise the man holding me, he hung tight, never once faltering on his grasp on me. After a half hour, I was ready to pass out from all the jostling and my head being upside down, the blood rushing the wrong way.
I was so dizzy. I barely noticed when it felt like we were going up in jerking motions. I blinked and realized that we were. He was climbing a ladder with me still over his shoulder. Someone gripped my hips and I groaned as I was lifted into the night, above ground.
The woman said something in Russian to a new man in a mask, and I glanced around dizzily. We were in a dark alley. I was thrown into a trunk of a car, hitting my head again, enough to have my vision blur completely as the trunk was slammed shut.
I was pretty sure I had lost my other contact as I regained consciousness. I rolled around in the trunk as it drove to hell. I searched the best I could, trying to find one of those buttons you always hear about in the movies that release the trunk door, but not everything in movies is true. Case in point, this fucking car didn’t have one of those buttons or handles.
I was jostled for an undetermined amount of time. The road was smooth for a while, but after some time, I could tell we were driving on a gravel road. I could hear the crunch of it under the tires and pings as tiny rocks hit the underside of the car. And they drove. And drove.
And my fury built. And built. Higher and hotter like an inferno.
They wanted what belonged to Daniil and me. They wanted my babies. My babies that were growing strong and healthy inside me. Against all the risks. They were healthy and mine.
When the car stopped, I pushed onto my back and waited. As soon as the trunk started to open, I took in a deep breath through my nose since my mouth was still bound, and kicked up as hard as I could. I heard a deep shout as the trunk caught whichever man in the face, and I kicked again, pushing and rolling out of the trunk.
My landing was what did me in. I could have had a chance to run, but I landed funny on my arm. I heard the pop even as I felt my left forearm snap, the bone just breaking like a twig under the fall. I screamed, the sound muffled, even as my forehead thumped on the gravel road.
A slew of curses—they had to be—in Russian were being hurled at me as the man I had hit held his face and the woman came around the side of the car. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I saw her boots stop right in front of my face.
I choked, trying not to pass out from the pain as she bent down and asked sharply, “Trying to run? Pathetic attempt.”
I was lifted off the ground when the
other man came over, the woman talking with the hurt man in Russian. She said something in Russian to the man holding me, and his grip on me changed. Landing right on my hurt arm. It was too much. Before I could even look around to see where we were, the pain took me under and I passed out for the third time today.
Isolation. Completely and utterly cut off from the world. Never had I…
I stared into the darkness. Once upon a time, I had joked with Daniil, my love, about a third world prison for an insane man. And now I lay in a room far worse.
How long I had been here…I had no clue. There were no windows. I had checked in the darkness. The walls were made of solid stone. I had checked in the darkness. There was no lightbulb on the ceiling that was only five feet high. I had checked in the darkness.
The room was small. Maybe seven feet by eight feet. It had a tiny door that I envisioned Alice in Wonderland might have used when she was shrunk. The only light shined around the edges when I assumed it was daylight outside. It reminded me of a room I had once seen on a job. A ‘bomb room’ as the old, filthy rich man had proudly told me. Just in case WWIII ever occurred, he would be safe. I had thought him crazy. The only one of his kind…well, except for the President of the United States since he had a whole mountain for that.
But now, I knew that I had been wrong.
Someone else was just as crazy as that old fart.
And it was my prison.
I lay on my side and didn’t bother trying to move from the cold stone. There was no comfort here. I had been stripped bare, naked, with only a blanket for warmth. On that first night, the man who had threatened to fuck me threatened again to rape me as he tore my clothes off, saying it would keep me from running again.
I had felt such fear that night, almost grateful when the woman had come into this small room, stopping the man’s taunts and actions. He hadn’t gotten close to raping me, but if she hadn’t walked in, he probably would have. Terror. I had felt terror.
Obsidian Music (Lion Security Book 3) Page 1
