Elude (24 page)

I kissed his forehead and went off to find a piece of paper. Ha, the man made fun of my lists; he was going to want to strangle me over this little piece of paper.

It was two hours before I finally made it back into bed. It was quiet around the house, which wasn't all that normal, considering a lot of the men Nixon had left took shifts, meaning the TV was almost always on downstairs.

Frowning, I glanced into the living room.

Empty.

I called down the hall, careful to keep my voice low.

Again nothing.

And then a hand slammed across my mouth. Someone pulled my body back. I was too weak to fight.

The man dragged me up the stairs; once we were back in Sergio's bedroom, he placed a gun against my back and whispered, "Talk and I shoot."

I didn't recognize the voice.

Soon footsteps sounded up the stairs.

Another man burst into our bedroom as Sergio was starting to wake up.

"Ah, Andi."

My eyes widened in horror. It was my father, my real father.

"Did you have to screw him so hard he blacked out?"

Sergio jumped to his feet just in time to get shot through the shoulder by my father. He crumpled to the floor.

I yelled. The gun pressed harder against my back.

My father moved over Sergio and whispered, "Well done, Andi. I knew you could do it."

What? What the hell was he talking about? I opened my mouth to yell when I was hit in the back of the head.

Everything went black.

Sergio

BLOOD FILLED MY MOUTH. THE METALLIC
taste made me want to puke; instead, I spit out as much as I could and tried to take in my surroundings.

Well, at least I wasn't in a warehouse — or worse, dead.

I was in a living room, my sad ass tied to a chair right in front of a baby grand piano.

Heavy black curtains decorated each of the large bay windows.

An expensive leather sectional was in the middle of the room; a bookcase covered one end, while a large desk sat in the other.

One door.

One exit. One entry.

Well, there went my escape plan unless I wanted to jump out the window, but I wasn't sure if I was up high or if I was on the bottom floor of whoever's house I was in.

I assumed it was Petrov's.

Memories of what had taken place came flooding back. I flinched in pain as I remembered being shot in the shoulder. I glanced to my right. It was bandaged. Ah, so they wanted to keep me alive before they killed me. Fantastic.

Andi! I tried to jump to my feet, but they were tied too.

It was fuzzy, but Petrov had said something about her… doing a good job? Or was it something else? I blinked, straining to remember what he'd said.

She would never double-cross me.

Or would she?

No. I had to trust my instincts, and my instincts said she was good; besides, she was being held at gunpoint. If she was bad, they would have pulled the gun away.

Or was there a gun?

Again, I couldn't tell; the memory was too fuzzy.

She'd been standing in front of another man…

Her face broken.

But I couldn't recall a gun.

"Shit," I mumbled.

"Ah, he's awake." Petrov walked in, wiping his hands on a towel and tossing it onto the couch. It was covered in blood, which made me wonder what else he had in his house of horrors.

"Petrov." I grinned. "Care to explain why you have me tied to a chair?"

He shrugged. "Think about such things hard enough, and you'll come up with a solution."

I glared.

He was a large man, who one could surmise quite enjoyed his food and vodka, if his gut was any indication. He was at least six four with a girth that made me cringe. His black suit fit him to perfection.

With a sigh, he pulled out a cigar, clipped the end, and lit it. Puffs of smoke filled the air, making me want to gag.

"She betrayed you."

I rolled my eyes. "I highly doubt that."

He shrugged. "Believe what you want, but know this. She's been working for me the entire time, and now I have a greater prize than my own daughter."

I burst out laughing. Even though my entire world felt like it was crumbling, I had to save face. "I'm not a boss. I mean nothing to the families. I mean nothing to the FBI."

"See?" He nodded. "That is where you are wrong." He puffed again on his cigar and set it on a dish then pulled a small syringe from his pocket. "You are blood, and blood always fights for blood. You will draw out one, if not all, of the leaders. I shall finish what my idiot son and Director Smith started. I will destroy the heads of the families. I will take over what should have been mine in the first place, Italian scum," he spat.

"Save the dramatics," I hissed.

"You have control of seven of our docks in Seattle. Seven." He ground his teeth. "You've infiltrated every single major harbor in the United States. How can I run drugs if the Italians are constantly trouncing all over my territory?"

"Well, here's a thought." I leaned forward as much as I could. "Go back to Russia. This is our home, our right. We've been here a hell of a lot longer than you and have a shitload more money. Just try to take out the families — cut off one head… two more will appear. Besides, killing me would be doing them a favor. Believe me."

"Oh yes." He nodded. "Double agent. You've been a bad man, haven't you?"

I was really tired of this conversation.

"It matters not." He flicked the syringe with his forefinger. "I won't have to kill them. You'll do that for me."

"Oh, I will?"

His grin was malicious. "Truth serum is often misused."

I squirmed in my seat, my eyes frantic for a weapon I could use to kill him. I stalled instead. "I imagine you're going to tell me why."

"Of course." He chuckled, taking two steps closer to me. "It rarely works when asked direct questions, but the power of suggestion? Oh now, that is a different beast entirely. I inject this..." He held up the needle. "…and I tell you so many falsehoods you forget your own damn name. I imagine if you're weak enough, I could even convince you that your cousin Nixon was Satan himself."

"Doubt it." I jerked at my hand restraints.

He sighed and with a nod set down the needle. "You know, you're right. What am I thinking? Truth serum!" He laughed loudly. "Sleep, dehydration — those are even better — but why don't I inject you first, cloud your vision, cloud your logic a bit before we begin, yes? Oh, and I do hope you enjoy the heat."

"What?"

He clapped his hands.

The fireplace turned on.

And a loud noise sounded.

"Hear that?" He cupped his ear. "The heat has just been turned on in this glorious state-of-the-art prison. The walls are triple insulated, the door lets no air in or out, by this time tomorrow morning, you'll be begging for release. You'll be so dehydrated you can't see straight, and the best part? Just when you're ready to take a nap, to escape the hell I've put you in..." He pulled a black collar from his pocket and fastened it around my neck.

I tried to bite him, but he was too fast.

"…I'll simply shock you awake. Let the games begin. I imagine it will take them at least twenty-four hours to locate you. Another twenty-four to form a plan, and by then, well, let's just say by then I'll have you eating out of my hand. Just think!" He started waltzing toward the door. "In the end, you will betray them all, just like you should have a month ago."

"I won't," I vowed.

He didn't turn around. He simply answered, "We'll see."

I was trying to figure out why I was strapped next to the piano, facing the door, when the heat started searing my back.

I was backed against the fireplace.

My kidneys.

"Shit," I hissed. He really was trying to dehydrate me. I closed my eyes and tried to meditate on keeping my breathing even.

The guys would come; I prayed they wouldn't.

I prayed they'd stay and just let me die. Funny, this morning I'd dreamed about following Andi into the afterlife, and now, I would be preceding her.

"Don't," I whispered. "Don't come for me."

Sergio

MY HEAD WAS SO HEAVY IT
didn't even feel like it was part of my body anymore; it hung forward. A beeping sounded, and then I was zapped twice around the neck, stunned so hard that I had to clench my teeth.

The fire continued to lick at my back. Sweat drenched the borrowed shirt and jeans they'd put me in.

I was thankful they were larger than I needed, at least providing some vent for the air to come up my back.

I was tired, so incredibly tired that my eyes were having trouble focusing. It didn't help that the bastard had injected me again with whatever the hell was in that syringe.

Voices sounded down the hall.

Either that, or I was truly going insane.

The door opened.

"Twenty-four hours have passed…" Petrov had two heads.

I blinked, trying to clear the image. Nope, still two heads.

"…and your friends have not come."

"Told you." Sweat dripped into my mouth.

"The room is over a hundred degrees, the fire still roaring. I bet water sounds like a slice of heaven."

I ignored the thirst burning my throat. My mouth was sandpaper; the desire to drink so strong I couldn't recall a time I'd ever been so thirsty.

"She betrayed you." Petrov stood in front of me and crossed his arms.

"She wouldn't." My voice was weak, unconvincing.

Petrov laughed. "Oh, to be in love. Tell me, did she give you the sob story about her sickness? Did you feel sorry for her? That was part of the plan you know. The easiest way to infiltrate is through the heart — through pity."

I shook my head.

"You're an idiot if you think she loves you. She feels nothing — she's my flesh and blood, after all. She hates Italians. I imagine you saw that hate quite often."

I ignored the voice in my head that said he was right.

"Haven't you wondered how we were able to get into your house all those times?"

"Luck." I clenched my jaw as the fire seemed to roar against my back. I arched and let out a little cry. So. Damn. Hot.

"Ha." Petrov wagged a finger at me. "She gave us the alarm code."

My head started to hang.

"You're a smart man, Sergio. I bet you even suspected her, but, because of your love, you ignored that voice in your head, that voice of logic — reason. She's good. I'll give you that. Many a man would fall for her blonde hair and innocent act. Didn't she tell you? She was trained in the art of manipulation."

"Stop!" I roared, lunging against the rope that was chaffing my wrists. "Stop!"

"She played you…" Petrov leaned down and slapped my cheek. "…like a fiddle."

He grabbed me by the hair and slammed his head against mine. Pain sliced through my forehead. I fell forward, and another zap hit my neck.

"Admit it," he whispered, his eyes black with hatred. "She bested you, and now… you are nothing."

"You won't win." Why was I still fighting when I knew he was right? When I knew— What did I know? The images were blurring more; I saw her snapping a picture of the code with her phone. Was that real? Did that happen? Memories replayed; they all seemed right, but they didn't fit.

Her kiss had been real.

Our love was real.

"Ah, the doubt." Petrov stepped back and nodded. "That's the first to happen, and then the images… the images your brain stored up suddenly float to the surface. Take your time, Sergio. I imagine a man like you will come to the same conclusion."

"Why?" My voice was ragged from lack of spit. "Why would you go after her then? The first night?"

"A truly good predator is always able to throw off its own scent." Petrov twisted a large ring around his middle finger. "We wanted to get the layout of the house, and what better way for us to grab you? We get you to focus on Andi, keeping her safe without any regard to yourself." He let out a low chuckle. "I bet you started sleeping with your gun and knife in the nightstand instead of under your pillow. After all, the bed is for making love, not war."

Damn it, he was right.

Foolishness washed over me.

"And there it is." He clapped his large hands slowly. "Admission. She betrayed you."

She betrayed me.

The love of my life had betrayed me.

I blinked back tears as the fire roared to life behind me. "She betrayed me."

"Good." Petrov nodded. "And what are you going to do about it?"

I was silent.

He sniffed, walked away from me, and pulled open the door. "One more syringe, another twenty-four hours, and we'll get our answer."

****

She was so beautiful, like a black widow spinning her web of deceit, just waiting for me, someone so weak, so desperate for love to fall into her clutches.

She waited.

The heat was too intense between us.

I wanted to escape.

Still she waited while I dangled in her web.

And then, she struck.

The poison spread from my back to my legs — heavy, so heavy. The pain seared through my hip and up my shoulder.

So much pain.

I strained against her bite, bucking my body away from her.

She simply smiled and bit harder.

My head fell back. A buzzing hit me in the neck—

I jolted awake.

The room was spinning; my back was on fire; my face fell forward again, this time slamming against the keys of the piano.

The zap jerked my head up.

Eyelids heavy, I fought for the sleep I needed, prayed that water would pour from the ceiling as I tried to lick my dry lips.

Andi's fault.

She'd done this.

She was the reason I was here.

Rage burst inside of me. I let out a hoarse yell.

The door to the room opened. Petrov walked in, his boots slamming against the hardwood. I saw four of him, maybe six — I lost count of how many blurs were in front of me. All I knew was that he was the key to everything. The key to water.