Beauty: Part 1: Blaire's World (Beauty's Duet #1)

by Kirsty Dallas

  As if my thoughts alone had conjured her, Beauty wandered into the living room. She moved gracefully and quietly, doing her best to go unnoticed, obviously a habit from the hell she had been living. Her pale features could almost blend into the bleached white surroundings of Algis’ home, but I wasn’t a man you could sneak by.

  She’d obviously managed to sleep for a few hours, the dark circles beneath her eyes were a little softer. Her wild mane of hair had been twisted into a thick braid and hung over one shoulder. She was still wearing a business shirt that obviously belonged to Algis, and had added sweatpants that hung off her thin frame. Luckily for her, Algis wasn’t exactly a bulky male, so the clothes would do for now. The knife I’d gifted her last night was still clenched in her fist. Watching me from the corner of her eye, she took a chance at turning her back to me to peer out the window. Dull, blue light was beginning to filter through it, the night gradually edging toward morning. With my ankle resting on top of one knee, my body relaxed in the white, leather sofa while I watched her. Healed of her bruises and with a few extra pounds, she’d be a fucking stunner, unparalleled.

  Her shoulders lifted and fell with a long, audible sigh, and she finally turned to face me, all signs of subterfuge gone.

  “When can I go home?”

  Straight to the point. Her little hands curled into fists at her sides, the long, sharp blade hanging from one. She was stronger than others who had endured what she had. I was curious about the girl she was before her abduction. Was she strong too, or did circumstances mold her into the resilient creature that stood before me? Did she always have that crazed gleam to her eye? Or was that too courtesy of Algis?

  “Home is not an option right now,” I answered. I was being a cryptic bastard, and honestly, I wasn’t sure why. Handing her off to someone else would be so easy. They’d place her somewhere safe or help her find her way home. The selfish bastard in me wanted to keep her close, though, for now. Beauty’s nose scrunched up in frustration, and she moved restlessly from one foot to the other.

  “Why the hell not?” she snapped.

  I bet she never spoke to Algis like that, all thorns and barbs. Fortunately, I didn’t mind it, in fact, I loved it.

  “Perhaps you could help me with something.” Her face paled. I didn’t think such snowy skin could lighten any more. “Not like that,” I gruffly huffed out, my foot falling to the thick carpet, my forearms braced on my knees. “I don’t buy women, nor do I sell them.” The stiffness that had quickly invaded her limbs seemed to disappear, but she still looked wary. “Trust me, Beauty, I have no problem finding willing women to fuck. You, though, are a loose end, a piece of the puzzle that doesn’t fit anywhere, and it will be my job to make sure you fit somewhere.”

  “I won’t allow another man to use me again,” she murmured, after a long pause.

  I believed her. She’d take the knife I had gifted her and slice a man deep before being enslaved again, I could see it in the wild gleam to her eyes.

  “There are other men I am searching for, friends of Algimas Bakaitis, men you may have met during your time with him. You may have even visited their homes.”

  “I didn’t travel often, and when I did he drugged me to keep me compliant.”

  A recollection of her travels would have been helpful, but it didn’t matter. The men I was searching for were buried deep underground in an attempt to escape the reach of Charlie, but they wouldn’t remain that way for long. There had never been a target I couldn’t find.

  “Perhaps I can show you pictures, and you can see if anybody stands out in your memory.”

  Beauty stared at me, an unnerving look on her face, her eyes boring into mine as if trying to bury beneath my skin and see who I really was. She could stare all she wanted, but she’d never figure it out. I was, if anything, a master at keeping my emotions in check.

  “Where’s your home?” I sighed, wondering myself and sorely after a change in subject. The way she continued to gape at me was beginning to piss me off.

  She didn’t answer for a moment, but her brow was creased in thought. “I’m not sure exactly.”

  Interesting. She couldn’t remember, or she didn’t have a home? Had Algis picked her up off the street? The homeless were the easiest to procure.

  “I’m a bit mixed-up . . . up here.” She pointed to her head.

  A mixed-up mind was something I knew well.

  “Well, that is a conundrum. Perhaps you could give me a name, your real name?”

  More confusion wavered in her features.

  “Beauty.”

  My brow rose as I watched her edge closer to the sofa opposite me. It was like gaining the trust of a wild animal.

  “I was under the impression that Algimas gave you that name. Surely you had another name, a surname?”

  Her head tilted to one side, those big doe-like eyes snagged on mine and not letting me go. Any signs of confusion had been shut down, revealing nothing but a blank mask.

  “I don’t remember it.”

  “Interesting,” I murmured as she finally sat her pert ass on the corner of the cushion, the hand with the knife resting in her lap, the other resting protectively on top of it. Nodding, I relaxed back in my own chair. If she was suffering some form of post-traumatic stress disorder, her memories might have been locked away, just waiting to come tumbling out.

  “Why can’t I go home?” she persisted.

  “It’s not safe.” My tone was brisk, hoping to brush away her persistent questioning.

  While her tenacity was somewhat admirable, it was also raising my ire. I wasn’t accustomed to being questioned, or having my authority doubted.

  “Why is it not safe for me? You have Algis, why can’t I leave?”

  “Algimas shared you with his associates and friends, did he not?” With my temper frayed, I growled out the words and watched as Beauty sat a little straighter. “Do you think those men will simply let you walk away?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why would they care?”

  “They care about their reputations. Most of these men have wives, families, money, careers, you threaten their pretentious existence.”

  Expecting her to continue firing questions my way, I sat ready and waiting, my body coiled tight with tension. I was grabbing at straws because there was no real reason why she couldn’t go, just my own perverse fascination.

  “Maybe I could go somewhere they wouldn’t find me,” she eventually murmured, more to herself than to me.

  “And where exactly would you go?”

  “Oymyakon, in Siberia. It’s remote and its freezing temperatures make it almost uninhabitable. Population fifty,” her eyes came back to mine and a small sign of sadness filled those doe-like orbs. “Or it was three years ago when I did an assignment for my geography class in school.”

  “You remember school?” I wondered out loud.

  Shrugging, her attention slipped past me and to the window.

  “I remember Oymyakon.”

  “And you want to live there, in Oymyakon?”

  “I want to live.”

  And there it was. The crux of all living creatures, that driving need to live. I’d bet everything I owned that it wasn’t always the case. There would have been a time when she longed to court death.

  Standing to my feet I slipped my hands into my pockets. She didn’t like me standing over her, I could tell from the way she fidgeted before me, her wary gaze locked on mine.

  “How often did you beg Algimas for death, how often did you pray for the heavens to take you?”

  Like a rubber band her spine snapped straight and color filled her cheeks.

  “You shouldn’t judge what you don’t understand.”

  I understood, I understood better than most, but she didn’t know that, nor would she ever. That was my personal hell, a time when death would have been a blessed gift. Instead I had murdered and bled my way out of it with the help of Charlie Decena. It would be a moment in history we would take to the grav
e in silence.

  “And I can guarantee you it wasn’t as often as you think. The few times I did pray, it was for a knife so I could slice his throat wide open and bath in his blood.”

  Murderous and defiant. My lips lifted in a smile that I felt all the way to my eyes, and her lovely arched brow creased with bewilderment. Damn, the bloody minx was adorable.

  Chuckling, I turned my back and wandered to the window she had been peering out moments ago. I had three men out there, watching and waiting in shifts, to notify me if anyone breeched the perimeter. They hadn’t asked any questions when I told them the timeline had been extended to a further forty-eight hours. I had no doubt they each had thoughts on the matter, but they wouldn’t voice them. I paid them damn good money not to.

  “You are a conundrum, Beauty,” I whispered. “A sweet conundrum,” I added as I peered back over my shoulder.

  “If I can’t go home, what will happen to me?”

  Turning to face her, I slipped my hands into my pockets. What would happen to her, indeed? There were many things I wanted to see happen to her, most of which involved me putting my mouth on her or my dick in her. What would she say if she knew I was right now imagining her clutching her ankles, her ass presented to the air as I fucked her from behind?

  Keep her.

  It was an insidious voice that had reared its manic head the moment I’d seen her in the Kensington mansion.

  I want her.

  Take her.

  Make her yours.

  She should have been damaged, and yet the woman who stood before me was proud, strong, and perhaps a little bit crazy. This world needed crazy if you were going to survive it. Perhaps she could be mine. How far would she let me push her? Anyone who was brave enough to belong to me would need to be prepared for the murder and mayhem that was my life.

  “What do you want to do to Algimas?”

  The question seemed to catch her off guard. With a quizzical look she shook her head.

  “What’s that got to do with what’s going to happen to me?”

  “More than you can possibly hope to understand. So tell me, what dark, bloodthirsty desires do you covet in that wounded mind of yours, hmm?”

  Standing, she huffed out a breath of air with frustration. It was charming. She looked a flustered mess, trying to unravel my intents.

  “What would I do to him? I’ve already told you what I’d do.” She raised the knife up high between us. “I could slice this deep into his stomach, peel back his skin and look behind his bony rib cage to see if he does have a heart.” Her eyes lit up. “I could rape him in the ass with it, like he did me, except I’d use the blade!” The excitement in her eyes died down, and her chin lowered. “Does that make you happy? My wicked thoughts? Does it make you hard?” she spat out. She had no fucking idea. “Stop playing your stupid games, and just tell me the truth!”

  Her temper had flared bright and bold, and I loved it. My dick, which had taken the longest time to relax back into a flaccid state, snapped back to attention.

  “The truth?” I growled. “The truth is you’re an obligation few will want to take on for anything other than nefarious purposes. The truth is there are people who would find your death convenient. The truth is, I want to keep you, but I don’t have much use for a broken fucking doll. My life is about pain, death, and torture. I’m a killer, and I’m paid damn good money to do it. I’m not sure you have what it takes to survive my world.”

  Her body quaked like a feather caught in a draft, her eyes wide with panic, those damn hands curled into fists.

  “Keep me?” The word was pushed out through tight lips.

  Smirking, I stared her down. “Does that scare you?”

  “Nothing scares me anymore.”

  Her whispered words were received as a challenge. They made me want to pick her apart, one delicious piece at a time, until I could figure her out, because there would be something buried deep inside her soul that absolutely terrified her. My gaze skimmed her delicate features, only anger and manic confusion present. Hmmm, what was she scared of? I needed to know, my fascination with mysteries urged me to put the pieces together. Perhaps she no longer feared Algimas now that he was strung up like a butcher’s prize. She didn’t appear to fear me, but maybe, just maybe, she feared something a little closer to home. Her monster.

  “Unleash the monster,” I growled.

  I was impatient to see the darkness inside of her. The festering rage beneath her skin needed an outlet, and I was fucking dying to see her release it. Perhaps others would suggest therapy, talking and medication. It was all a fucking joke, there was no talking a twisted mind out of the knots in which it had become tangled, and there was no numbing the pain. I knew exactly what she needed, and I’d keep pushing until that rage was released.

  Tilting her head to one side, her brow furrowed in confusion, she whispered “My monster? You want me to release Algis?”

  Sighing, I reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Beauty flinched and looked at me as if I were a bug she’d just squished under her shoe.

  “Love, he’s not the monster I’m talking about.”

  BEAUTY

  Hart confused and irritated me. He talked in riddles and seemed to enjoy my discomfort. He also had no concept of personal space, and his constant touching and close proximity frayed my nerves. He pissed me off, and I found my grip on the knife clenched in my sweaty palm tightening as I imagined stabbing him in his too handsome face. The blasé attitude he was trying to portray was a lie. Behind his penetrating gaze was a darkness, and while I knew I should be fearful of it, I wasn’t. I wanted to climb in there and see it for myself, uncover all the wicked, vile things that lurked inside his mind. Enthralled was perhaps a better explanation for how he made me feel. I wanted to challenge him, and when he pushed me, I wanted to push back, harder. Right now, though, I just wanted a straight damn answer.

  “Love, he’s not the monster I’m talking about.” What monster did he mean? “Release your monster, Beauty.”

  I could feel the deep frown on my face as I struggled to understand what he meant. My free hand rubbed at the tightening in my chest and I blinked once, then twice as I watched the infuriating man before me. He was looking at me like I might be an insect about to explode. Those calculating eyes were searching for something. His scrutiny only incensed my internal rage and I clenched the knife a little harder. I wanted to lash out and hit something. Breathing rapidly, I shook my head trying to fight the overwhelming emotions storming inside me. My monster? Was he talking about me? Did he see my monster, the wickedness inside me fueled by a hate so intense it saturated my heart and soul? Looking at the knife I clutched as if it were my way to freedom I wondered why Hart wanted me to hurt Algis. Was it a test? Or a trick? Did it even matter? I wanted to hurt Algis, I wanted to hear his screams. Even the simple thought of them made me shudder with delight. To steal his power and deliver back the pain he’d inflicted on me was a gift. I didn’t really care about the repercussions.

  “And then you’ll tell me what will happen to me?” I murmured, somewhat uncaring and yet unable to completely silence my curiosity.

  Hart nodded, stiffly.

  “Pinky promise?”

  His eyes narrowed and brow creased in a most adorable way, those sinful lips frowning with confusion. Obviously, he’d never pinky promised. For me, it was nothing more than a fuzzy notion that floated about inside my head, but the emotion that went with it was one of conviction and certainty. A pinky promise, for someone reason, felt important. I held my finger out in front of my body and didn’t move. I wouldn’t. Not until I had a firm promise from him. If he couldn’t do it, I would try my luck at walking out the front door. Having nothing to my name and barely even a name itself meant I probably wouldn’t get far. But I’d still try.

  Reluctantly, Hart reached forward and linked his pinky around mine. “I promise,” he murmured.

  Happy he had partaken in this unbreakable contract
, I pulled my hand away. Well, that was that, then. Hart would tell me what would happen to me, as soon as I unleashed my monster on Algis.

  “Is he awake?” I asked. There was no way I was allowing Algis to miss all the fun and pain.

  A spearing arrow of sunlight shot through the large window, hitting the blade of the knife I was still holding. How poetic that one of the first rays of morning light to touch the room happened to find the weapon in my hand. It looked so beautiful as I turned it over. It was just a kitchen knife, but completely stainless-steel from the handle to the blade, and I knew first hand that Algis kept his knives sharp enough to slice easily through flesh.

  “I would imagine he is awake and probably a little miffed as to why he’s hanging in his dungeon.”

  Hart’s voice was so close it startled me. My gaze rose to his light-colored eyes, the amber so striking in the early morning light they almost appeared gold. They were fringed with long, dark lashes and crinkles at the corners. Eyes that could be mistaken for charming, sexy even. I saw beyond the lie, though, I saw the astute intelligence that was constantly assessing and often dispassionate. Some might see an arrogant man, but I didn’t think it was arrogance, it was confidence. There was no doubt in my mind that this man was a killer, and he likely had no regret for the lives he had taken. If they were men like Algis, then I didn’t regret he’d killed them, either.

  Feeling once again a little overwhelmed by his proximity, rather than reveal my discomfort, I simply dismissed him by turning on my heel and stalked through the home. Having Hart at my back was disconcerting, but my need to find some modicum of power pushed me to be brave. Now that I’d made my choice, I was eager to get started. The thought of Algis’ blood, screams, and tears made me a little giddy with excitement, and a giggle burst free from my lips. This was going to be so much fun.