"Last I checked he was clean shaven." I smirk down at him.
He stares at me for a second before bursting into laughter.
"Oh, she's a feisty one. Maybe not his beard, after all. God knows, a meek one wouldn't stand a chance."
"Here we are," one of the men in the back signals, "bag her up," he says and I frown, not understanding his meaning.
Out of nowhere, a gag is placed in my mouth and a huge bag is thrown over my head as one of the man drapes me over his shoulder, exiting the van.
It seems that Vlad's really pissed some people off this time. I know I should be scared, but for some reason I trust that Vlad won't let anything happen to me.
These guys, on the other hand... I feel bad for them, and I would have told them as much had they not put this blasted gag over my mouth. They might think they know Vlad, but they're in for a pretty big surprise when they realize just how dangerous he can be.
"Gentlemen, you're early!" I hear Vlad's voice as he greets the men. There's an echo resounding, so I'm guessing it's a large room.
Some shuffling and I'm thrown to the ground.
"Oh and you brought a present too?" he asks in that amused voice of his.
I wiggle my feet, hoping he'll notice my shoes, but it's in vain as the men continue to address him.
"We couldn't resist after we got your gifts," one speaks, "especially given that Ilya was my brother-in-law," I can hear the tension in his voice and for some reason I'm sure Vlad's gifts had not had any good intentions attached to them.
"Well, it brought you here, did it not?" He asks, moving around the room. "You'll have to excuse the lack of entertainment. I wasn't expecting you until..." he trails off, and I can just imagine him checking his wristwatch, "two hours from now. The girls I hired for tonight don't start their shift until midnight," he sighs audibly and I smile against the gag, his theatrics never failing to amuse me.
"Good thing we brought something, too. We can use her in the meantime," the younger one whose voice I have memorized by now says, yanking the bag from my body.
I blink twice, trying to accommodate my eyes to the light as I notice we're in a warehouse. A huge warehouse. There are two rows of tables around, all adorned with food and drink, an altar of sorts at the end of the warehouse, a huge, gilded icon of the Virgin Mary gracing the wall. Everything seems almost regal, from gold cutlery and plates to silver and gold chalices, it looks like the feast of a tsar.
Vlad is standing maybe a few feet away from me, his eyes looking at me intently before he turns to the others, smiling.
"Wonderful," he says, not betraying any emotion.
Besides the five men from earlier, there's no one else in the vicinity, and for a moment I fear that Vlad may be outnumbered. Even Seth, who should have been here protecting Vlad, is nowhere to be seen.
But then I remember his acrobatics from the restaurant and I realize I shouldn't worry too much.
"You don't recognize her?" one asks, mildly peeved at Vlad's reaction.
Vlad walks towards me, looking at me from head to toe.
"Nope. Should I?" he shrugs, gazing up at the men. His act is so flawless, even they start doubting whether they got the right person or not.
"Then why don't I start?" Vasily drawls, coming next to me and placing his hand on my breast.
Vlad's gaze darkens, and a sinister smile appears on his face.
"Yes, why don't you?" his voice is low, but you'd have to be deaf not to hear the unmistakable danger reverberating from it.
Vasily unties the rope around my torso, freeing my arms. But I don't get to enjoy my newly found freedom as he rips the bodice of my dress, the entire front tearing along the seams, my breasts bouncing out.
I still, my eyes widening as I'm unable to react to the sudden assault.
"Sisi, move back!" Vlad yells at me, his entire body stiff and on the verge of erupting. I make to move, but Vasily has me firmly in his grasp, his greedy eyes eating me up as he glances at my naked breasts.
He doesn't get to touch me again as a knife embeds itself in his throat, his expression shocked as he clutches with his hands at the bleeding wound.
I scurry to the back, managing to avoid another man as I run to where Vlad directed me to.
"So she does matter. Kuznetsov, we'll have so much fun with her once we've dealt with you," an older man says, not reacting in the least at the bleeding Vasily, or the fact that Vlad had barely moved a finger to mortally wound him. "Maybe we'll keep you alive so you can watch," he continues.
A loud noise erupts in the warehouse as Vlad starts laughing, bending low to grab his stomach as more and more laughter spills out of him.
"You?" he asks, pointing at the four men still standing. "You?" he asks again, barely containing his laughter.
The men are already in position, raising their guns to aim at Vlad, an entire arsenal at their disposal. For the first time, I'm scared.
Because yes, Vlad is a wonderful fighter and could theoretically take those four old men. But he's also defenseless, and for all his claims to the contrary... he's just a man.
"Sisi, get behind the altar," he commands, the switch in his voice immediate.
With shaky fingers, I try to untie the rope around my feet, frustrated when it doesn't give way immediately.
"Now, Sisi," Vlad yells. The rope untied, I hurry behind the alter, my back hitting the frame of the gilded icon.
"Do you really think you can take all of us, Kuznetsov?"
"Ah, gentlemen," Vlad walks casually around, picking a golden goblet of wine, "who taught you to poke the sleeping dragon?" he asks, donning a mask of amusement once more.
"You think you can kill our men and we'll come in peace?" another man chimes in. I sneak my head around the small altar, watching the scene unfold.
"I rather thought you'd thank me," Vlad replies daringly, "after all, what good does it do to have useless men around you? I did you a favor," he shrugs, a smug smile on his face.
"You..." an elder steps forward, his mouth in a scowl, but another man stops him.
"I've never quite liked you, boy. You think you can order everyone around to do your bidding? We've long decided you needed to be taught a lesson. This just happened to be the perfect occasion," he spits out, his gun pointed at Vlad.
"See, gentlemen, I really wanted to be a gracious host today. You can see I've spared no expense. Why even the gold is real," he lifts up his goblet, the light hitting the metal and making it glint. "And you have to come in my own home and disrespect me as such?" he shakes his head, making a tsks sound.
"I would have let you leave with your lives intact too, but you really had to go there. You just had to mess with my property," he purses his lips, a frown on his forehead.
His property? I'm his property?
We'll need to have some words about that after he's done with these people.
"Look at him," one man laughs, swinging his gun around, "he's behaving as if he's already won."
"Oh," Vlad smiles, the goblet falling to the ground with a thud. "But I have." He says just as he ducks, the noise of gunshots permeating the air.
"Missed," his voice rings out as he rolls to the ground, taking with him the tablecloth, all the cutlery, plates and food falling to the ground in a deafening noise. More gunshot, with the occasional "missed," from Vlad as he moves around like a ghost, his movements insanely fast as he avoids all incoming bullets.
He can't be real.
I rub at my eyes, thinking I'm seeing things, but Vlad's movements are just insane by any standards, and even the men going against him have a hard time believing what they're seeing.
He's playing with them as he ducks, rolls, moving his body like a trained gymnast. He's not even trying to go on the offensive. Rather, he's relishing letting them chase, their frustration seemingly increasing his enjoyment.
The gunshot sounds keep on going until they suddenly stop. There are some stilted sounds as the men keep on pushing the trigger of their gu
ns, entirely out of ammo.
"Well, I guess now we can talk like civilized people?" Vlad emerges from a corner, casually moving around as if they haven't emptied four guns chasing him around the room.
"Fuck you!" one yells, throwing himself at Vlad. One look at his face and I can see him rolling his eyes.
Vlad merely moves a few steps to the right, his foot shooting out as he trips the man. Falling to the ground, he groans in pain. Vlad's foot presses down on his back, holding him to the ground.
"Didn't I tell you it was useless?" He shakes his head at them, a knife in his hand as he plays with the blade.
The men aren't deterred as they all tackle Vlad, grabbing knives from the ground and trying to get a hit.
Vlad sighs deeply, maneuvering his own knife as he throws it at the first man, hitting him right in the eye. With inherent ease, he waltzes around, avoiding any direct hit, his hand reaching out to dislodge the knife before pushing it into another man.
The scene continues as he uses just one knife to stab all three men, leaving them all bleeding on the ground.
When he sees that they're all out of commission, he comes over to me, taking me into his arms.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, "Did they..." he trails off and I quickly shake my head, watching relief flood into his features. "I didn't expect they'd go for you, which was an oversight on my part," he confesses–one of the rare moments I've seen Vlad admitting he was wrong.
"I knew you'd take care of them." I tell him. My faith in him had not wavered even for a second.
"Damned right. No one touches you and lives," he smiles at me, and I finally allow myself to relax.
But it's too early as we turn around, alerted by the screeching tires of another car stopping in front of the warehouse.
There's a split of a second where Vlad pushes me back behind the altar, his body on top of mine as more gunshots ring out—this time the noise more powerful than before.
"Shit. They brought out the big guns." He mutters, his hands opening a cabinet behind the altar table and taking out a few weapons of his own.
"Where is Seth? Or Maxim?" I ask, worried he might truly be outnumbered this time.
"Don't curse me out, hell girl, but I actually sent Seth to watch over your house. They must have grabbed you right before he arrived," he explains, a little exasperated. "Afraid it's just me for now."
"You better not get yourself killed. Or me for that matter." I mutter as more shots are aimed towards the warehouse doors, the entire thing riddled with bullet holes.
"Never," he stares at me intently before brushing his lips ever so lightly against mine. "Stay hidden," he whispers before arming himself to the hilt and going out to greet his guests.
It's only as I look around at the already fallen men that I realize his chasing game had been all about not drawing blood. And as more armed men burst into the warehouse, I know it's only a matter of time before he truly snaps.
And everyone will be sorry to have woken the beast.
The playfulness starts to recede as he jumps in front of one man, moving his weapon out of his reach before knocking him out and turning the gun on the others around. It's a massacre as he shoots like a madman, a smile of pure bliss on his face as five men drop to the ground.
For a moment I have to wonder just how many more are coming, as more and more trickle inside the warehouse.
Vlad continues the shooting, ducking and hiding when the fire is directed towards him, using the tables as shields.
No one stood a chance.
It's as clear as day as he rains chaos on them, his glee audible as he kills man after man. Bullets are flying through the air, the icon behind me becoming riddled with holes, the sounds deafening.
"Drop your weapon," I hear someone yell. Sneaking my head around the altar table, I see Vlad in the middle of the warehouse, breathing hard.
There's four more men in front of him, all of them pointing their guns at him.
"Interesting to see you all working together," Vlad jokes, walking around slowly, "do you even have any more bullets in that rifle of yours?" he nods towards one man's gun.
"You're dead," the man hisses at him.
"Am I?" he asks, feigning surprise. "Let me tell you how it's going to go, old chap. That rifle in your hands holds at most thirty rounds," his eyes rove over the other men, a smirk on his face as he zones in on their weapons. "Someone hasn't been counting," he chuckles.
"What..."
"Come on, shoot me if you can," Vlad says, spreading his arms like an eagle waiting to be poached. "You can't, can you?" he shrugs, amused.
I smile too, realizing he'd been baiting them to shoot all their rounds, counting the bullets.
Damn, that's impressive.
"Don't move." I feel a breath on my neck as a hand sneaks over my mouth, forcing me to move from behind the altar. The barrel of a gun is jabbed against my temple, his words sending shivers down my back as he takes delight in telling me just what he'll do to me after killing Vlad.
"You're not the only one with an ace in your hand, Kuznetsov." The man behind me speaks out, pushing me forward as I almost stumble to my feet, the gun still menacingly at my head.
Vlad turns slowly, dangerously slow, his gaze clouded as he takes in the man behind me. The smile is completely gone as he takes a few steps towards us.
"So this was your marvelous plan," he adds drily, "band together on one man."
"You've been upsetting some pretty important people, Kuznetsov. We're merely delivering the message." His hands tighten over me, and my gaze flies to Vlad's, worried about what will happen next.
He looks between the two of us, suddenly a bored expression on his face.
"Let's count, shall we? I see at least fifteen men on the floor. Five more to go. What do you think the odds are?" he asks, his hand lowering ever so slowly with the tilt of his head, his gaze back on me.
My eyes widen as I realize what he's trying to communicate, and I give him a slow nod.
One hand on a rifle, the other is resting by his side, his fingers slowly unfurling in a count.
One.
Two.
Three.
When I see the third finger, I drop my head low, gathering momentum and pushing myself back with as much force as I can muster before dropping low again.
In a split of a second, Vlad's gun is up, his finger on the trigger, the bullet whizzing past the top of my head and lodging itself into the man's forehead.
He drops to the floor with a thump, Vlad's languid steps taking him next to me.
"Hide," he whispers, and I waste no time in obeying.
He crouches low next to the fallen man, taking out a long blade planting it deep into the men's chest.
The other men are at the back, just watching, their raised weapons for show as they no longer have any ammo to use.
I bet they never thought they'd need that many bullets for just one man.
Vlad's blade cuts through the skin, using the butt of the gun to smash through the ribcage until he has clear access to the heart.
No...
One hand wraps itself around the heart, yanking it out of the man's chest. The bleeding organ is still seeping blood, a trail developing as Vlad strolls along the warehouse, pumping the heart with his own hands.
"You thought to come into my home, and threaten what's mine?" His voice rings out—it's different.
There's an ominous quality to it, and even I react to the pure evil behind his mask. He's gone, or at least almost gone.
But as he brings the heart to his mouth, biting a big chunk of it, blood trailing down his mouth and horrified gasps echoing in the warehouse, I have my confirmation.
He's gone...
Dear God, but I don't know what's going to happen now. He's fought so much to keep himself under control, playing with the assailants to avoid a face to face confrontation that would result in bloodshed.
And now...
I watch in horror as his mouth widens into
a malefic smile, his entire countenance changed. Sinister intentions ooze off him as he catches one man by the throat, raising him in the air with ease before bringing his head to the ground, smashing the skull with so much force the entire cavity breaks, brain matter leaking out.
He doesn't stop.
He keeps on smashing until there's little left than a mass of mangled brain and bone, both barely hanging to the body around the neck.
The other men try to flee when they see his true nature, their hands moving rapidly in the sign of the cross as they say prayers.
In vain.
One after another, Vlad chases them around. Masterfully wielding his blade, he cuts one man's arms, blood leaking down, a horrified expression on the victim's face. But Vlad's smile only widens as he uses the man's own palms to slap him around until he becomes bored, his victim already bled out.
Gathering his long blade, he stalks his next prey, cutting the man at the waist in such a smooth line, the torso immediately becomes separated from the lower part of the body, organs spilling out on the floor.
Vlad's laughter fills the room as he smears his face with the blood and entrails of the dead man.
I guess he wasn't kidding that he bathes in entrails.
Two more men are still up for grabs, both hiding around the room, and trying to avoid Vlad's detection.
They may think they're safe, but Vlad finds them with ease behind a table, his hands grabbing on to their napes as he drags them towards the center of the room.
Already the floor is red with blood, more and more flowing from all the victims—the slaughtered and the shot ones. It's like an ocean of read as he dumps the two cowering men right in the middle of it.
They fall down, the blood splashing around, their expressions of horror as they try to get away from Vlad. They pick up whatever's close to them, flinging it at him, but to no avail.
Blade swinging high, he effortlessly cuts their heads, both falling to the floor and rolling on the ground. But he doesn't stop just at that. He keeps smashing, bringing the blade into their bodies and destroying what's left of them.
Flesh hanging, blood pouring, bone shattered.
There's only destruction in his path as he continues to wreck all the other bodies too, cutting them to pieces—the only thing that mildly satisfying him.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 35
