~*RussianPrey*~ By:Sandrine Gasq-Dion ~Dedication~
To myFamily.
Jenjo, Jenand Kim.
As always, myreaders at LRO for their support.
Theresa Webber for the cover art! A specialthanks to The Dreamcatcher B&B for their hospitality. JenofJennifer F Photographyfor the beautifulpictures ofthe cover model.
Specialthanks to Chris Rockwayfor puttingup withone hundred degree or more temperatures and curious bugs - youlook fantastic!!
© Copyright 2012 This a work offiction and anyresemblance to persons, livingor dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental. AllRights Are Reserved. No part ofthis maybe used or reproduced inanymanner whatsoever without writtenpermission. WARNING:This book contains materialthat maybe offensive to some:Violence, graphic language, homosexual relations, adult situations. Life without love…is no life at all….
~PROLOGUE~ 5 CHAPTER ONE 12 CHAPTER TWO 35 CHAPTER THREE 53 CHAPTER FOUR 70 CHAPTER FIVE 82 CHAPTER SIX 114 CHAPTER SEVEN 143 CHAPTER EIGHT 160 CHAPTER NINE 184 EPILOGUE 222
SNEAK PEEK AT “AN IGNITED PASSION” 225
~Prologue~
November 15, 1984 Vologda Oblast, Russia Vince was jarred awake bythe sounds ofthe wounded and dying. The cold brick floor bit throughhis thinlayer ofclothing. The cellwas dark againand the November cold was seepingthroughthe cracks inthe wall.
Sixmonths theyhad beeninOgnenny Ostrovmaximumsecurityprison. The prison itselfwas surrounded byLake Novozero; there was no escape, especiallyinthe middle ofwinter. The temperatures were inthe negatives. Vince crawled to the hayinthe corner and tried to warmup. His thinT-shirt did nothingto keep himwarm. His pants were fullofholes. The few times he’d beenable to washthem, he’d almost frozento death waitingfor themto dry. He knew he was filthy; theywere givena bowloflukewarm water everyother dayto cleanup.
Theyhad accused his father ofbeinga traitor, but Mischa Markovwas no traitor. Vince had beentrained byhis father, who had beenhead ofthe RussianArmybefore workingfor the government. Theyhad been takeninthe middle ofthe night - he, his mother and sister were dragged fromtheir beds and beaten. Theywere throwninto separate cells and interrogated for hours at a time. He hadn’t seenhis sister or mother in weeks. Food was slid under the door, but most ofthe time he hadn’t eatenit. It was old and moldyand the first few times he had eaten he’d beensick for days.
He’d figured out prettyquicklythat his father was inthe cellnext to him. Theycould speak throughthe cracks. The last time he’d heard his father was two nights ago whenhe’d told Vince to ‘remember the rule.’ Whenhe was twelve, his father had taught himthe art of self-defense as wellas how to turnoffpain. Now fifteen, he remembered the rule quite well:Killor be killed.
The door locks sounded and Vince sat up against the wallwaitingto see which guard was comingto take him. There were three:YakovPanchenko, Sacha Krupinand Igorek Matveev. Theywere the ones in charge ofhis torture. He’d made it a point to remember their names. Light illuminated the cellfromthe opendoor and Vince squinted to see who was there. Another guard, one he’d never seen, came into the cell.
“Theywillbe comingsoon. Whenthey take you, killthemand make your wayto the furthest corridor. I have left youwhat youwill need.”
Vince stood up and gripped the wall. “Why?”
“Your father is no traitor. I amafraid theywillkillyoualltonight. It is too late for me to help withyour mother and sister.”
Vince grabbed the guard’s uniform. “What do youmeanit’s too late?”
“Theywere takenanhour ago; I do not know what has happened. I must go, they are coming.”
“Wait!”Vince gripped the man’s sleeve. “What is your name?”
“Marco.”
Vince sat back downonthe floor and heard the locks engage. A few minutes later the door was opened byKrupin. Vince shrank back, as he always did, and waited for the manto take his arm. It had beenmonths with barelyanyfood or water and his strength wasn’t what it used to be, but he knew whenit came to life or deathhe was ready. He was escorted downthe longhallwayto another room, one witha window. Inside were his sister and mother, alongwithPanchenko and Matveev. A slow, buildinglaughcame from Krupinas Panchenko raised a knife to his mother’s throat.
“Yousee what happens to traitors, Vincent?”Krupinleaned into his ear. “We have alreadykilled your father, now youwill watchas we killthem, too.”
Vince went for the door and heard the screams frominside the room. Bothhis mother’s and sister’s throats had beencut and theynow layat the feet ofthe guards who had killed them. Thenthe rage came. His father had told himthat whenit came it would be as ifa veilofred covered everything.
He lunged for Krupin, throwinghim against the wall. Gettingloose, he randown the hallwaytheyhad just come fromand made for the one he’d beendirected to byMarco. The alarms were goingoffas Vince found the supplies that had beenleft for him. Footsteps echoed downthe hallas he ranfor the roof.
The bitterlycold air stunghis lungs like a knife as he reached the roofofthe prison. A half-moonhunginthe sky, makinghis escape at least a little easier. He had seconds before he’d be found. He opened the plastic bag. Shoes, pants, shirt, jacket, aneight-inchlong huntingknife and a rope were inside, as well as directions onwhere to go. Vince looked over the side ofthe building; he’d have to wait for the clothes and shoes. He was about to go swimming. Attachingthe rope to one ofthe sturdier bricks, Vince crawled over the side and rappelled downthe prison’s brick surface.
Fortunately, the water wasn’t
completelyfrozenbecause the supplyboat had beenthere todayand had cut a path throughthe thick chunks ofice. Shots were goingoffaround himas Vince dove in, the icy water stinginghimlike thousands ofneedles. He could faintlyhear menshouting, more gunshots crackingthe ice and the prisonalarm goingoff. His hands and feet were becoming numb as he swamfaster towards shore. Reachingit, he ranfor the woods and kept running.
~~ Damonsat at the bar withhis associates. Doingbusiness withthe Russians was becominga paininthe ass. Marco had come back fromthe prisonwitha look that Damonknew well. Mischa, Nadya and Viktoriya were dead. He’d beentoo late. They’d takenthe trip to Rostanias soonas the letter had arrived fromMischa Markov. They were beingheld prisoner as traitors, and Mischa had begged for help. They’d done business before and Damonhad takena liking to the Russianofficial.
“Mr. Santorno?” Damonturned to see Marco inthe doorwayofthe bar. “Yes?”
“He’s coming, and theyare right behind him.”Marco closed the bar’s door and grabbed for the guninhis waistband.
Damonstood and waited. The noise was gettingcloser and, finally, the door to the bar was thrownopen. Damon’s eyes went wide; the younger Markovwas covered in blood. He looked feral.
“Marco! Take himinback now!”
Marco grabbed Vince and hauled him into a side room. The kid was tryingto killhim the minute he put his hands onhim. Marco took Vince’s face inhis hands.
“Stop!”Marco put his finger to his lips.
Vince closed his eyes and listened to the voices inthe bar. Damonwas calmlytelling the menhe hadn’t seenanyone come into the bar for hours.
“Are youcallingme a liar, Mr. Panchenko?”Damonarched a brow.
“He was headed this way; we know he came throughhere.”
“Oh, did he? Or did he just make you think he did?”
“He killed fifteenofmyguards, Mr. Santorno,”Panchenko growled.
“It is ofno consequence to me what this manhas done,”Damonarched a brow and folded his arms over his chest. “And now youare standinghere wastingprecious time.”
The guards alllooked at one another and Damonsighed inirritation. “Would you like a shot ofvodka while youmullit over?”
Marco held onto Vince as the men cleared
out ofthe bar. Allwas quiet and then Damontold themto come out. Marco opened the door, keepingVince behind him. Damon sat at the bar witha wide smile.
“Verygood, Mr. Santorno.”
“I have not gottenwhere I amtoday bypanicking, Marco.”
Damonlooked Vince over. “Get him ina hot shower and cleanclothes and thenwe willtalk.”Damonstood and walked over to Vince. “I ama friend ofyour father’s, Vince. I was told ifanythingshould happenI amto take care ofyou.”
“I don’t need anyone,”Vince spat out defiantly.
Damonleaned over and looked into Vince’s eyes. “Youare fifteenyears old and onyour own. Now get your ass inthe shower.”Damonlooked up at Marco. “Watchhim.”
Damonwalked back over to the bar and sat down. “Oh, and Marco?”
“Yes?”
“I have told yourepeatedlyto callme Damon.”
Marco smiled, takingVince’s arm. “Habit, sir.”
Damonsighed infrustration. “Take himand cleanhimup.”
Anhour later Vincent Markovwas sittinginfront ofhim, showered and clothed. Damon’s heart ached lookingat the boy; he’d lost everything.
“I have made arrangements for youto come home withme, Vince. I willfinishyour education, and youwillfinishyour training.”
“Whyshould I trust you?”Vince narrowed his eyes.
Damonhanded Vince a letter. “Because your father did.”
Vince looked over the letter. At first, he didn’t see anythingexcept how theywere beingtreated fairly. Thenhis eyes fellonthe first and second letter ofeachword. He looked up at DamonSantorno. “It’s incode.”
Damonnodded. “The letter did not reachme soonenough. IfI had known, allof youwould have beenout at once. I amknown for stormingthe castle, as theysay. Now, one thingyoumust know about me, Vince - I am not always a kind man. I amvicious and ruthless whenI need to be.”
Vince sat back inthe chair. “Good, because I planontakingmyrevenge very soon.”
Damonsat forward and clasped his hands together. “Ifyouseek revenge, youwill have it, but onlywhenyouare ready. Marco and Antonio willteachyoumore ofwhat your father started. Untilthen, youwillnot make a move untilI sayso. Is that clear?”
Vince arched a brow. “I want them dead. Allofthem.”
“Thentheyshallbe.”
Damonstruggled raisingthe younger Markov. Vince shied awayfromanyformof humancontact; he was defiant, stubbornand cold. Damonsupposed he couldn’t blame the boy; sixmonths oftorture would hardenany man. He tried, and failed, to warmVince’s ice-cold interior. Theyhad formed anuneasy relationship and Damontaught Vince at home as he couldn’t be trusted ina normalschool environment. For two years Vince trained with Marco and Antonio. At seventeen, he carried out his revenge. Krupin, Panchenko and Matveevdied intheir homes, tornlimb from limb withaneight-inchhuntingknife.
Chapter One
Amalfi, Italy. The smellofthe sea was strongthis morning. Vince sat back onthe steps ofhis villa watchingas waves crashed against the rocks below. It was peacefulhere. The move fromRussia was welloverdue; it was Andrei’s home, not his. He’d put Russia behind hima longtime ago and althoughhe missed it sometimes, it would never be home again.
The sunwas risingonthe fishermen gettingreadyto leave for the day. Italyhad become his mid-stationinlife; he had no idea where to go fromhere. He was divorced with a child, and forty… something. Vince chuckled.
“Yo, Pops.” Vince turned to see his son, Nikolai, boundingdownthe steps. Nikolaiwas an exact replica ofhimself. Sixfoot two, black hair, withequallyblack eyes.
“What’s up? Youpacked?”
“Yep.”Nikolaisat downnext to his father. “Are yousure you’re goingto be okay? I mean, I hate leavingyouhere alone.”
Vince mussed Nikolai’s hair. “I’llbe fine; besides, I canalways come to Seattle and bugyou.”
Nikolailooked horrified. “Ohhell, Dad, I amnot goingto be incompetitionwith youfor men.”
Vince laughed loud and smacked Nik’s arm. “Stop it. Did youget a hold of Sebastian?”
Nikolaifrowned. “Not yet,
something’s up withhim, Pops. I think his dad is beinga fucktard. I got a hold ofWyatt, though. I’llhangwithhimuntilI find Bastian.”
Nikolaismiled at his dad. The divorce had beenciviland his fathers had stayed close. Nikolaiknew his fathers loved eachother but his pop could never openup completely. He’d heard the storya milliontimes. WhenVince had gone to killYakovPanchenko, the man’s sonhad beenhome. Accordingto his dad, he just couldn’t killAndreiPanchenko for the sins ofhis father and years later theymet againand fellinlove. Now that was over.
Vince looked out across the water. “I need to find a new house somewhere. Any suggestions?”
Nikolai’s brows pinched inthought. “Arizona?”
Vince sat back and arched a brow. “WhyArizona?”
“It’s hot as hell,”Nikolailaughed. “You’llfeelat home.”
“Smart ass.”Vince punched Nikolai playfullyinthe arm.
Nikolaihugged his father. “Ohcome on, Dad. Youneed to move onand find a hot guy. I won’t be too far awayand I stillneed youto trainme.”
“Youdon’t need anymore training, Nik.”Vince cupped Nikolai’s face inhis hands. “Youalreadyknow everythingI do, and beingmykid means fromtime to time you willhave to defend yourself. So, keep up with it everyday.”
Nikolaismiled wicked. “I already have, remember? I know who I amand where I come from. I’ve never beenashamed ofwho myparents are. I’ma Markov,”Nikolai winked.
Vince hugged his sontightly. They’d always beenclose and Nikolaiknew
everythingthere was to know about him. “I have to go see Damon; I’mgoingto get Nardozzi.”
Nikolaipulled awayquickly. “Are you crazy? Is Damonsendingyouwithanyone else?”
“Calmdown, Nik, I volunteered. You know I’mthe onlyone who canbringthis asshole down.”
Nik stood up and paced. “I know you can, Dad. I stilldon’t like it though. I cango with?”
“No.”Vince stood up and took Nikolaibythe shoulders. “Youare goingto go to Seattle and visit Sebastian. Ifyoulike the university, hell, youcango to college there.”
Nikolaismiled. “It is kinda gay friendly.”
“And youcanvisit me inhell.”Vince smacked Nik’s ass.
“Awesome!”
“Vincent?”
Vince turned to see Lorenzo coming downthe stairs. Vince kissed Nikolai’s cheek. “Go on, I’llsee youina minute.”
Vince stood, waitingfor Lorenzo to reachhim. They’d beenfriends a longtime and Lorenzo knew most ofhis deep, dark secrets. WhenLorenzo had falleninlove, Vince had felt as ifhe’d lost a friend. But, over time, he realized Reece had beengood for Lorenzo. Reece had never tried to keep them apart.
“What is it old man?”Vince cracked a grin.
Lorenzo frowned. “Youare older than me. Reptile.”
“That’s dinosaur,”Vince cracked up. “Doesn’t Reece teachyouanything?”
“He taught me love,”Lorenzo said.
Vince scowled. “Not this again.”
“Youare not happy, I cantell. Why do youcontinue to denyyourselflove? Do younot want a partner?”
“Youhave become a huge sap,” Vince sighed, lookingLorenzo inthe eye. “I love Reece to death, but he’s reduced youto a kitten.”Vince had to laughas Lorenzo’s greyeyes blazed.
“I amno kitten,”Lorenzo growled. “I have love; it has made me a better man. Have youlearned nothingfromthe divorce? Why willyounot let someone in?”
“Because I don’t want to!”Vince shouted. “Youthink I need to feel something? WellI don’t! I’ve beenperfectlyhappy numb.”
“It willnot bringthemback, Vince. Youmust be happyinyour time onEarth. I worryfor you; it has become worse since the divorce.”
“What has?”Vince asked. Lorenzo dragged a hand throughhis hair. “Youare volunteeringfor more and more missions. What about Nikolai? Youwishto leave himwithout a father?”
Vince raised himselfto his fullheight, getti
nginLorenzo’s face. “Don’t youever questionmyparentingability. I love Nikolai, and I would never do anythingto hurt him.”
“Youlove your son, yes, but your anger fuels you, Vince. Not your son. How do youever expect to love himthe wayyou should whenyoucannot openyour heart?”
“Myheart is opento mysonand only him. I can’t go throughthat again, loving someone, havingthembe injured, or God forbid, die,”Vince ranhis hands over the day’s growthofbeard currentlymakinghis face itch. “Besides, I don’t evenknow ifI remember how.”
“Youdo not think it canhappento Nikolai? He is a Markov, sonofAndrei Panchenko; he is a target at alltimes.”
“Whichis whyI trained him. He knows everythingI know.”
“Thendo the same withwhomever youfallinlove. I worryfor you,”Lorenzo furrowed his brows. “Youare becomingmore and more like your old self.”
“I liked him.”Vince grinned, devilishly.
Lorenzo sighed infrustration. “I only saythis to youbecause I care. Youknow I do.”
“Youonlysaythis to me because no one else will.”Vince narrowed his eyes. “Who put youup to this?”
“Where should I start?”Lorenzo laughed.
“I should have known,”Vince groaned. “Chickenshits.”
“Theycare for you, allofthem. They have seenwhat I do, and are worried.”
“Well, don’t worryso much, reptile,” Vince chuckled, leadingLorenzo towards the villa.
“Youare not amusing, Vince.”
“I’ma laughriot,”Vince laughed. He looked up to see his housekeeper peekingout the door.
“Yes, Christine?”
“Willyouand Mr. Costa need anything, Mr. Markov?”
Vince frowned.
“How manytimes have I told youto callme Vince?”
Christine tilted her head inthought. “More thanfive?”
“Veryfunny. No, we are fine. Thank youfor asking,”Vince winked, as Christine went back into the villa. He felt Lorenzo’s eyes onhim.
“What?”
“A housekeeper?”Lorenzo raised a brow.
“She does a wonderfuljob.”Vince shrugged his shoulders. “Besides, I had to hire her; her last name is Amalfitano.”
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