After all, the former security officer had a knack for roughing up woman. He could make almost anyone submit to his demands.
In his broken, error-laden English, Ivan capitulated. “I sorry, Natasha. But the son of bitch has a wicked tongue. She insult my manhood.” Ivan pointed to the area below his waist. “She said I have small dick. She said no woman in right mind would have me. I know she only try to anger me, but still, I can’t control my temper. She deserve what she got!”
Natasha could feel the blood bubble up inside as her patience wore thin. She bared her fangs and grabbed the much-bulkier man by the throat before she tossed him across the room. Older and much more powerful, Natasha watched him flail through the air. His husky frame bounced against the wall over and over again like a ping pong ball before falling to the concrete floor. Then, she strode over to him and laid her three-inched spiked heel atop his chest, right above his heart.
“Zavali yebalo. One more word. One more scratch on the girl and God help me, I’ll end your good-for-nothing life with a simple twist.” Natasha never lost control. She uttered the words in a calm, even cadence as she applied just enough pressure to puncture his skin with her stiletto heel. She picked Ivan up by the collar of his shirt, and pushed him toward the door. “Now get back in there and get whatever information you can from her about BPA! Without doing any damage to her exterior.”
Natasha had it with weak, incompetent men! If it wasn’t Ivan’s macho, overwrought brutality, it was Andreas’s love-sick puppy dog eyes as he mourned the loss of his one, true love.
Disgusting! If she let the men in her life dictate everything, she’d be long dead. She only hoped she could trust Vladimir, the Moscow-based vampire she’d been working with to establish a new business opportunity back home. Any enterprise involving scantily-clad women ready to do God knows what to please a man would be a success. Even more so, it would help Natasha make enough money to live a lavish lifestyle in her mother country, away from Andreas’s prying eyes. As an equal partner, Vladimir promised to hook her up with right people. People who made insignificant wenches like Eva live out their worst nightmares.
Natasha sat down at the desk and logged onto the computer.
She waited, anxious for the video conference program to boot up.
Then the image of a refined, gray-haired gentleman with slicked-back locks and a velvet smoking jacket flickered onto the screen.
“Vladimir, it’s so good to see you again. I take it everything is in order?”
“Of course, my dear.” Vladimir crooned into the phone with a smooth, confident baritone. “A package will be delivered by courier no later than five o’clock this evening. It will contain your new passport, a pair of one-way tickets to Moscow for you and the girl and instructions on where to rendezvous once you get into town.”
“Fabulous. If everything goes as planned, I’ll see you in about thirty-six hours. Until then, dasvidania.” Natasha smiled and disconnected the video feed.
****
With both hands tied behind her back, Eva tried to wiggle her way out of the ropes. But the more she moved, the worse the burns scorched the delicate skin along her wrists. Once she got her hands on Natasha, she would take her apart. Piece by despicable piece. She’d heard her at the door earlier, but so far, the bitch hadn’t had the guts to show her face. Ivan had been her only companion. And what a prick he’d turned out to be. He wasn’t a man. He was a monster. A psychopath driven by the need to steal life and dignity away from innocent women. A blood-thirsty vampire just like the rest of them. He’d tortured her a hundred ways to Sunday, yet she’d managed to tell him nothing. After a while, he left the room. Frustrated as hell.
Once he disappeared, Eva’s thoughts turned to Andreas. From the onset, he’d been different. Gentle. Loving. Until the moment he snapped. She still couldn’t quite come to terms with what had gone wrong. He went from making passionate love to her to strangling her to death in some kind of masochistic twist of fate. None of it made any sense and once she escaped this hell-hole, she planned to find out what perpetuated his violent, uncharacteristic reaction.
Just as she felt the slip knot begin to loosen, she heard the heavy steel door swing open again. Her back was turned to it, but still, she listened to the heels tap against the cement. She had no doubt the person who entered the room was a woman. The footsteps sounded different. Light and nimble. Natasha. She fed in the last hour too because the pungent scent of blood swirled around the room like effervescent French perfume. Good. The female vampire would need all the strength she could conjure to challenge Eva’s wrath.
“So, we meet again. The last time I saw you, you were licking your wounds from Andreas’ rejection.” Eva flashed a wicked smile.
An obvious attempt to goad Natasha into the inevitable confrontation.
“To what do I owe this happy reunion?”
“Shut up! You’re nothing but a slut. A temporary distraction.” Natasha fumed at the huntress. She slinked close enough to reach out and touch her. “Once you’re out of the way, Andreas will see the light. Sure, he may be a bit emotional at first, and I’ll be there to console him.”
“You underestimate his feelings for me. Our feelings for each other.” Eva raised her chin in defiant confidence, even if inside, she had her doubts. “He will come for me. And God help you when he does!”
A malevolent grin spread across Natasha’s face. She let out a wretched laugh as she moved within inches of Eva’s reach. “By the time he deciphers our current location, we’ll be long gone. And you, my dear, will be selling your body for rubles on the streets of Moscow.”
That did it! Eva could only handle so much abuse. She baited Natasha into an argument. Had intentionally coaxed the vampire into her well-laid trap. Eva’s hands were free behind her back, but her feet were still tied together. She remained affixed to the chair with several layers of rope wrapped around her thighs and mid-section.
Eva freed her hands, drew back, and punched the vampire square in the face. A crackle and pop echoed in her ear, something akin to the breaking of bones. Next thing she knew, Natasha was bent over, holding her nose in obvious pain. Eva rushed to untie the restraints that kept her in the chair. Before her opponent recovered, she dealt another blow with a hard kick to the solar plexus. The vampire doubled over, her arms cradled around her waist as she fell to the floor with a thud.
Eva mounted her and landed blow after blow to the Russian beauty’s pretty countenance. The pent-up anger broke free. The anguish she’d felt after losing her parents. Her hatred of vampires.
Her irrational, mixed up feelings for Andreas. The hurt and confusion of his betrayal. It all crashed down in that one, succinct moment.
But Natasha didn’t let her wallow in her sorrows for long. The bloodsucker scratched and clawed at her as she arched her back in an attempt to buck Eva off. In a move straight out of a UFC match, the vampire somehow obtained the upper hand. She flipped Eva onto her back and held her to the ground. In that split second, Ivan rushed in the door. He nudged Natasha out of the way and picked the huntress up by the throat before setting her back in the chair. How come these God damn vampires constantly went for her throat?
I must be losing my touch. I need a frickin’ vacation.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Thy One
“Father, please. Stop with the literary symbolism and tell what the bloody hell is going on. We’re wasting time with riddles while the woman I love could be dying.”
Aristotle peered into his son’s eyes, an obvious plea for him to remain calm. Andreas took note of the older man’s slow and even breaths, a methodical attempt to ease the tension in the room. It was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
“Andreas. What you described of your experience with Eva this late afternoon is most unique. And there is but one explanation.
Eva carries your child in her womb. It could only have happened in the midst an intense, overwhelming exchange of love and selflessness.” As so
on as the words escaped his father’s mouth, Andreas was up out of his seat. Ready to protest. But the elder put his hand up to quell his son’s reaction. “I know this sounds far-fetched.
Vampires and humans aren’t meant to procreate, right? In fact, only the blending of two pure bloods can produce offspring. Or so we’ve been led to believe.”
“If we both know this idea to be utterly inconceivable, why bother bringing it up?” Andreas frowned. He felt the lines of his forehead draw together in the shape of a “V.” “I’ve got one shot at happiness. Just one, Father. And sitting here listening to these preposterous machinations is a waste of time and energy that we could be using to find her.”
“Because it’s not as much of an outlandish possibility as you might think.” Aristotle smiled back at Andreas, trying to ease the obvious pain and anguish the thought of losing his beloved had wrought on his heir. “I am quite a bit older and wiser than you are, my son. I know our history like the back of my hand. The prophecy of
‘Thy One’ is well-documented and widely-accepted by vampires of my time. It is just that we never thought we would see it come to fruition in our lifetime. Listen to your heart. Read the words of the poem and let them sink into your subconscious. Deep down, you know them to be true.”
Andreas took his father’s advice, and read the words of the prophecy aloud once more. He allowed the flowing peaks and valleys of its iambic pentameter to penetrate his mind. The words weaved their way inside his body and soul. Several minutes passed until he was overcome with a sense of peace and tranquility. His earthly body became limp and pliable as his soul freed itself, detaching from the rest of his body. Andreas found himself float as if on a cloud, guided by a heart that searched for its one, true mate.
The sounds of the outside world drifted away, replaced by an angelic voice calling to him. He followed its rhythmic pattern and let his body pinpoint its desired destination. He descended over what seemed like a row of warehouses set by the sea. Andreas had no idea where he was, but he knew Eva was close. He could not only hear her.
He could feel her. And as her uniquely-beautiful aura washed over him, he sensed the spirit of his unborn offspring and realized what Aristotle told him was true. She carried his child. His son.
Andreas snapped out of his trance and jumped to his feet, ready to take action. “You were right. About everything,” He admitted against his better judgment. After all of his father’s concessions that evening, it was still difficult to accept that he had been right. “I saw her. She’s being kept in a warehouse somewhere by the Hudson River. I don’t know how I know that for sure. I just do.”
“Your connection to her is strong.” Aristotle smiled, a glint of pride reflected in the wisdom of his gaze. “Let me go back to my office and do a computer search. I may be able to narrow down our options and find out where her captives are holding her.” Andreas nodded as the cell phone in the pocket of his silk trousers began to buzz. At the back of his mind, hope prevailed. Hope that the brave and breathtaking huntress had escaped and was making her way back to him rose to the surface. But disappointment overshadowed his optimism as he looked at the phone’s caller ID. The number belonged to his friend and The Crypt’s bartender.
“Hey, Bobby. I’m kind of in the middle of something right now. What’s up?” Andreas’s voice remained steady as he tried not to alarm the other man.
“Sorry, man. I don’t want to bother you, but something went down earlier today, the implications of which have been nagging at me all afternoon.” Bobby sounded hesitant. By the tone of his voice, it was obvious Andreas’s friend was about to deliver more bad news.
“It’s Natasha. I think she may be up to no good.”
“How so?” Andreas prompted him to explain, not quite making the connection yet between Natasha’s strange behavior and Eva’s sudden disappearance.
“She mentioned something about finishing what you started in the most slow and painful way possible. I’m not quite sure what she meant by it all. But if you ask me, she ran out of the club in a rage, hell bent on killing someone. I thought you might want to check up on her and make sure she hasn’t lost her freakin’ mind!” Andreas knew Bobby felt like a snitch, telling on one of his so-called friends. But if everything he mentioned was spot on, then Natasha could possibly be involved in Eva’s kidnapping. He didn’t want to believe it, but right now, it was the best lead he had on his lover’s whereabouts.
“Thanks, bro. I’ll check in on her and keep you posted.” Andreas slammed the phone shut, not about to waste time burdening Bobby with the details of Natasha’s treachery.
Andreas sprinted into his father’s adjoining office to share the intel on Natasha. Together, they narrowed down the search for warehouses to two separate storage facilities used by AK Oil International for the import and export of crude oil in New York Tri-state area. One of them was located along the Hudson River, a few hours north in the small town of Troy. The other was located right here in the city. Near Coney Island. Bingo! Natasha’s home turf would be her place of reckoning if what Andreas’s gut told him, turned out to be accurate.
Andreas left his father in front of the computer to dig up as much dirt as possible on Natasha. He jumped in his Porsche and headed straight for the highway. Along the way, he put in a call to Oliver, and asked him to meet him at the Coney Island warehouse in case he needed back up.
I never thought I’d live to see the day that I’d be working on the same side as the BPA.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Rescue Attempt
Andreas instructed Oliver to meet him several blocks away from the location of the warehouse so as not to tip off Natasha and her henchmen that they were on to her. Only a few minutes after he’d parked his car, he laughed aloud as he saw Oliver pull up behind him in his bright yellow SUV. A stereotypical vehicle for a vampire hunter. With enough of room in the back for stakes, bows, and arrows, it was almost creepy.
Oliver stepped out of the automobile and walked up to the driver’s side window. “So what’s the plan, lover boy?” Oliver inquired, ribbing Andreas with shameless sarcasm.
“I’m gonna kill the bitch. That’s the plan.” Andreas swore he heard the other man snicker in amusement.
“That part’s obvious. How do you plan on getting Eva out alive?”
“I already sent a man ahead to scope out the place.” Andreas noticed the look of worry settle over Oliver’s face and placed an assuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Oliver. My man will be discrete. He’s Special Forces, and I pay him well to remain invisible. He already did some recon. There are currently five people in the warehouse. Eva, Natasha, and four men. Piece of cake, right?” Once Andreas pinpointed Eva’s location, the tension diminished slightly. He’d always been a cocky bastard. But knowing that his woman’s life was at stake made his adrenaline kick in. Nothing would stop him from protecting her.
As they made their way closer to their target, Andreas and Oliver flushed out their plan of attack. The mercenary he had working for him would take out the two men stationed at the front and rear entrance of the building and would act as their look out. From what they gathered from the infrared scanner, there was one person with a shoulder-length hair and curvy hips seated at a table in what the architectural designs of the building indicated as some sort of office.
He figured that to be Natasha. In larger room, at the back corner of the warehouse, were two additional bodies, one with a huskier build and another more svelte physique hunched over in a chair. No telling who the muscle in the room was, but the more voluptuous frame had to belong to Eva.
“You ready to do this?” Andreas searched back and forth between Oliver and the mercenary. Both men nodded as their plot to rescue Eva kicked into high gear. From his position some thirty yards away, Andreas watched as the hired help took out each guard with a silent, yet effective, snap-of-the-neck technique. When he had both men out cold, they entered the building with guns blazing. Oliver headed towar
d the office where Natasha sat fiddling with her Blackberry near the open doorway. Andreas took advantage of the situation and made a b-line to Eva.
He kicked open the door swift and easy. He identified one particular man on sight. Olshanskey. The idiot had the nerve to hold his woman hostage. Andreas focused all of his energy on the former bouncer. He couldn’t even look at Eva. Not yet. First, he had to satisfy the beast raging inside him. The need to kill beat at him. Loud and rumbling.
“You are so fucking dead!” Andreas roared at the Russian with his fists ready. His mouth watered as his fangs protruded, prepared to rip the man’s throat out. They exchanged blows for several minutes. Each man drew blood and tore gaping holes in the other’s flesh. But Andreas didn’t have time to spar with this asshole.
He rushed Olshanskey, held him in a headlock, and slammed his knee into the man’s face over and over again. Grotesque, purple lumps formed on his forehead like weeds sprouting through the soil. Then Ivan went limp in his arms. It was time to end his pitiful existence once for all. No mercy. He grabbed Olshanskey by the hair and arched him backwards. With his opponent’s vulnerable jugular exposed, he went in for the kill. Andreas’s lips quivered as his teeth sank into the man’s neck, draining him of his life’s essence.
When it was done, Andreas turned his attention to Eva. He expected the worst. Not that she’d be injured, but that she’d look upon him with contempt because of how awful he’d treated her. But in that split second, he saw nothing but love and acceptance reflected in Eva’s warm, brown eyes. Gone was the pained look of betrayal he observed earlier. His heart seemed to expand further. He ran to his lover and kneeled before her in a submissive gesture.
“Baby. I’m so, so sorry.” Andreas pleaded with tears in his eyes. “I lost control. But it will never, ever happen again.”
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