Read The Nightlife: London (Urban Fantasy Romance) (The Nightlife Series) Online

Authors: Travis Luedke

Tags: #urban fantasy thriller, #paranormal erotic romance, #paranormal thriller, #vampire thriller, #Horror, #supernatural romance, #Urban Fantasy Romance, #Urban Fantasy Series, #dark fantasy, #vampire adult, #dark fiction, #fantasy romance, #vampire erotic romance, #vampire romance, #Blood slave, #adult romance, #paranormal romance series, #urban fantasy

The Nightlife: London (Urban Fantasy Romance) (The Nightlife Series) (6 page)

BOOK: The Nightlife: London (Urban Fantasy Romance) (The Nightlife Series)
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Chapter 8

 

 

With a two handed grip, Aaron wrenched the locking mechanism
and yanked open the back door to the club.  When Reza had gone for his cell
phone, his thoughts revealed an alarming situation.  This entire city block was
under the control of the Keljmendi clan.  Every business within a kilometer
answered to the clan.

{{Time to go.  Now.}}  Aaron projected directly into
Urvashi’s mind.  He wanted them out the front door before he made it to the
bar.

Passing from the shadows into the lighted bar, the
bartender’s sharp gaze never left him.  The man glared at Aaron for a moment
then glanced back to the exit.

Michelle, Katya, Urvashi and Ivan were already making their
way to the front door.  At the entrance, a burly, six-foot male wearing a black
“security” t-shirt, his scowling face scarred from chin to eyebrow, caught a
signal from the bartender.  He grabbed another hulking giant wearing a t-shirt
emblazoned “No Blood-No Foul” then stepped up to block Ivan.

Scarface grumbled, “Boss says ya gotta stay.  Not done yet.”

“Boys, this does not end well.”  Ivan’s meaty knuckles
cracked as his fists balled up tight.

Aaron joined them and slid between Urvashi and Michelle to
the front, facing the guards directly.  “We brought a private party.”  He
gestured towards Michelle, Katya, and Urvashi.  “Much better than the girls
here.”

Aaron caught the thoughts of the bartender advancing behind
them with a solid baseball bat slapping his palm.  Aaron nodded to Ivan. 
“Behind us.”

Ivan turned to face the bartender, his hands up in
surrender.  “We don’t want trouble.  Just looking for a good time.”

Aaron winked at Michelle and flashed left.  His fist crushed
the guard’s nose into a bloody pancake.  The guy went down and stayed down.  “Guess
that qualifies as a foul.”

Michelle snorted, and a split-second later, slashed to the
right, carving bloody lines across the other guard’s face with her wicked
talons.  The man screamed until Katya’s boot to the groin lifted him off his
feet and sent him staggering back, only to fall to his knees in agony.

Urvashi grinned like a kid in a candy store, enjoying the
show.  “We should do this more often.”

Aaron turned to watch Ivan intercept the inept swing of the
bartender’s bat.  Ivan snatched the bat away and spun it in a high arc, right
down onto the bartender’s receding hairline.  The crack of wooden bat on skull
echoed across the strip club as men yelled and women screamed.  Everyone moved
as far away from Ivan as they could get.

The bartender dropped like a sack of potatoes.  Ivan
chuckled.  “
This
is a good time. Now, I am having fun.”

“Will you stop playing?  Let’s go.”  Katya pulled on Ivan’s jacket
and steered him past the guards on the floor to follow Aaron and Michelle out
the front door.

“We need to leave Soho, now.”  Aaron led them out of the
Brewer Street alleys, and back to the line of taxis.

They piled into a waiting taxi and Michelle snapped at the
driver.  “A hundred pounds to get us out of Soho in five minutes.  To the
Knightsbridge Hotel.”

The driver grinned.  “That’s a job I can do.  Best get your
money ready.”

Ivan complained.  “Why leave so soon?  I was just starting
to enjoy myself.”

“This cockup got us bagged.”  Katya thumbed towards Aaron in
the front seat beside Michelle.  “Had to go and save the stupid stripper.”

Katya had a funny look on her face.  Her words rang with
annoyance, but her aura revealed something else, a hint of mirth.  Then she
smiled.  “Who’d have thought a leech could be so bloody gallant?”

Aaron grinned lopsided.  “If you knew what he planned to do
to her, you’d have been out in that alley with me.”

“I know the type, all bad, all channels, twenty-four-seven. 
Pure bollocks and cuss and spit.  Only thing worse is an arrogant Russian.” 
She winked at Ivan who chuckled low, almost a growl.

Michelle broke the spell of camaraderie when she licked the
blood off her fingertips and spoke directly to Katya.  “Aaron is much stronger
and faster than I.  And you know what I can do.”  She kissed Aaron on the cheek.

Ivan and Katya shutdown, like a switch had been flipped.  No
more smiles and snickers.  The momentary illusion of friendship dissipated. 
They rode in uncomfortable silence the rest of the way.

At the hotel, they all stepped out of the cab, and Aaron
reached out to shake Ivan’s hand.  He smiled, just a big happy Russian, no more
killer Ivan.

“We had fun tonight.  I’ll buy you a drink.”

Aaron smirked.  “I like my drinks hot and fresh.”  He looked
pointedly at Katya.  “I bet she has an exotic flavor.”

“Un huh!  Keep your chompers away from me!  No way on God’s
green earth would I ever allow you near me.”

He stepped up closer.  “You’re probably right, I can smell
…”

“Don’t you dare say it!”  She was in his face.  An inch from
his nose, her fists curled up.

“I was going to say coconut shampoo.”  He grinned wide,
tempted to steal a kiss while she was so close.

“Twenty for one bite.”  Ivan grinned mischievously at Katya.

“God, you’re a cheap pimp.”  She rolled her eyes at him.

Aaron turned to Michelle.  “What do you think she tastes
like?”  He licked his lips.

He couldn’t stop himself from teasing Katya.  She reminded
him so much of Anastasia, especially when she smiled.

Michelle wrinkled her nose.  “
Chien mouillé
.” 
Wet dog.

Katya snorted with her upper lip in snarl.  “I’d just as
soon watch you starve to death.”  Her eyes grew cold, and he caught a hint of
her malice leaking past the wall blocking her mind.  She had some intensely
personal reason for hating vampires, something recent.  “You have your leech.” 
She flicked her nose at Michelle.  “And Urvashi is certainly friendly.  You
don’t need me.”

As though on cue, Urvashi slicked her hand down over Aaron’s
crotch.  “I think he would rather taste wolf tonight.”

Ivan put his arm around Katya and squeezed her shoulders in
a brotherly hug.  “Okay.  No biting tonight.  It’s unsanitary.”  Ivan winked at
Aaron.

If Aaron didn’t know better, he’d think Ivan actually liked
him.

“But I am still drinking Vodka.”  Ivan pointed at Aaron.  “We
need to talk about what you learned.”

This is what Aaron had been afraid of.  They were now stuck
with the two wet dogs to the finish of this manhunt.  He shivered, looked down
at the slushy sidewalk, and glanced towards the warm, cozy hotel.  “Room 440.  Get
your vodka and meet us there.”

 

* * * *

 

Chapter 9

 

 

“No matter what they say, the wolves are not friends.” 
Michelle pulled Aaron into the bathroom, holding his face in her hands.  In
moments like these he was reminded of her age.  Physically, she appeared in her
late twenties, but Michelle had a century under her belt, and a lot of hard
lessons learned.

She whispered so Urvashi couldn’t hear.  “And they are too
friendly with Urvashi.  They cannot be trusted.”

“I know what happened with the wolves during the war.  You
shared that with me.  But I don’t think Ivan and Katya are enemies.  In time,
we can learn to trust them.  Give them a chance to earn our trust.”

“They almost killed me.  Is not a joke, Aaron.  They would
have eaten me.”

Aaron shivered with the vivid memory of Michelle’s fight
with the pack.  Michelle’s bloody, clawed hands glistening in the moonlight.  Huge,
oversized beasts with gnashing teeth, tearing at her from different
directions.  Her inhuman screams of rage as Michelle tore through Katya’s
brother Andrei with her bare hands.  It amazed Aaron to this day, the things
Michelle did in France during the war, the horrors she survived.

“I am not an idiot, Michelle.  Have faith in me.  I won’t
allow them to hurt you.”

“I take care of myself.  Is you I worry about.  You are too
young, too naive.  Never turn your back on them.  Promise me.”

“I promise.”

A knock at the suite door announced Ivan and Katya’s
arrival.  Aaron and Michelle strolled out of the bathroom together as Urvashi
seated the wolves on the pastel, puke-green living room couch.

Ivan wasted no time cracking the seal on his fresh bottle of
Stolichnaya, red label.  The strong vapors of vodka wafted through the room as he
poured an over-sized shot glass full to the rim and downed it with a doggy
shake of his head afterwards.

“O! 
Yob tvoiu mat’!

  Aaron
didn’t understand a word, but Ivan conveyed the suggestion that
this is good
shit
.

Katya grinned at the big man and snatched the glass off the
table.  “Let me have some before you finish it.”  She poured the same measure,
tipped her head and tossed it back in one hit.  She grimaced at the burn, but
looked like she enjoyed it.

Urvashi’s cell phone went off, a melodic sitar musical ring
tone, something straight out of India.  “
Oui
.”
 She listened for a moment and waved at Aaron, speaking directly into his
mind.  {{I must take this call, privately.}}  She left the suite for the
hallway.

Ivan watched Urvashi go.  He grabbed the shot glass away
from Katya and refilled it.  “So tell us about Reza.  What are his dirty
secrets?”  Without waiting for an answer, he emptied another shot.

Aaron looked to Michelle, who nodded slightly.  “I only
caught a few quick snatches from him.  Enough to know he is deeply involved in
the black market dealings of the Keljmendi clan.”

Ivan and Katya both whistled together.  Katya stole the shot
glass, poured it to the rim, and knocked it down in one.

Ivan grinned at Aaron, shaking his head.  “You have a talent
for finding problems.  You might think these men cannot get to you, but you
don’t know where they come from.  You don’t understand how the Albanians deal
with vendettas.”

Aaron narrowed his eyes.  “I am done with them.  I got what
I needed.  Reza didn’t know much of anything.  He saw Mike Jamison with a blonde
woman, and I was able to catch a brief glimpse of her face in his mind.  That’s
all he knew.”

“You may be done with the Albanians, but are they done with
you?”

Michelle growled her two cents.  “If they become a problem,
we will
handle
it.”  Michelle liked getting her hands dirty in the
entrails of her enemies after slashing their guts open.  She had always enjoyed
slaughter a little too much for Aaron’s comfort.

“Da.  I remember.  She is a wicked woman, no?”  Ivan smiled
at Aaron.

Aaron pulled Michelle close, an arm around her shoulders,
and kissed her on the nose.  “Yes.  But I like her that way.”  He smiled back.

Katya snorted at Aaron and stared with pointed distrust at
Michelle.  “Go on thinking with the wrong head.  Get yourself killed.  Vampires
are not known for compassion.  Most of them kill their masters or vice versa.”

Ivan stole the shot glass back from Katya, refilled it, and
downed another shot.  “I think with both heads, and I am still here, all in
good working order.”  He adjusted his crotch as Aaron laughed and the ladies
rolled their eyes simultaneously.

Aaron studied the wolves.  They were not really
together

They struck him more as brother-sister, or coworkers, comrades.  Aaron looked
directly at Katya, letting her absorb the full effect of his gaze.

His words drilled into her along with his unblinking eyes. 
“I appreciate your concern, it’s touching.”  She smiled, almost pleased, and
then shook her head, ridding herself of his spell.  Aaron found her resistance
endearing.  “But Michelle and I are not
bound
as master and servant, not
anymore.”

Katya frowned slightly.  The wheels turned in her head.  “You
choose to be together?”

Aaron nodded at the same time as Michelle, while her hand
stroked his thigh affectionately.

Michelle licked her lips as her hand slid up and down
Aaron’s leg.  “Is like the love stories you read about. 
Très magnifique
.  Very
romantic.”

The way she teased him with her gentle strokes, he could
have bent her over the couch right there, audience and all.

“Beautiful, I am sure.  Romance and slaughter.”  Ivan
sounded curt, less casual than normal.  “What’s next?  How do we find this
leech, Mike, and the woman in the limousine?”

“I don’t have a clue.”  Aaron shrugged and sat back.

“We have learned nothing.”  Ivan poured another shot and
tossed it back, his bottle half gone already.  “A waste of time.”

Aaron nodded in resignation at the dead end.  Michelle
patted his knee.  “When Jamison kills the woman, and he will kill her, we can
follow the trail again.”

Ivan grunted but Katya stared wide-eyed at Michelle like she
was insane.  “We are trying to find him
before
he kills her.  Fucking
vampires have no respect for life.”  Katya shook her head.

Michelle glared at Katya.  “Michael Jamison cannot hide
forever.  I will find him.”

Aaron sensed something beneath Michelle’s resolve, a deep
seated need for vengeance.  Jamison had taken something from her.  She lost her
hold over Aaron when she died, however briefly, and she considered that a
debt.  Michael Jamison would repay Michelle’s loss with his life.

 

* * * *

 

Chapter 10

 

 

Michael Jamison’s cell phone vibrated atop the bedroom
nightstand with an incoming call.

“Answer it please!  It’s been going off all bloody day.” 
Laura curled up against Mike’s chest, her hands sliding under the bedcovers
towards his crotch as he reached for the phone.

Mike groaned and hit the send button.  “Hello.”

“About time you answered.  Been callin’ nonstop.”

Laura’s hand found what she was looking for and started
stroking him.

“Sorry, I’m a night owl.  Who is this and what do you want?” 
Mike wanted off the phone.  Now.  Laura had tugged and pulled him to a full
size erection in seconds.  Since Paris, it seemed he could sport an erection
almost on command.

“Don’t care if you’re a bloody raven, I got problems.  Your
friend Reza, you know the one who sold you a … package?  He works for me.  He’s
all busted up, now.  A Russian and a Yank blasted my boys lookin’ for you.  We
need to talk, now.”

“A Russian and an American, together?”  Laura kissed his
belly button and slipped down under the blanket to lick the head of his cock
with teasing laps of her tongue.

“I don’t stutter mate, you heard me.  Get the fuck over to
The Rocking Horse club and tell me who these bastards are.  Reza’s in the
hospital.  Can’t bloody talk.  He’s sucking mash through a fucking straw.”

“This has nothing to do with me.”  He grimaced when Laura
quit teasing and took him full into her warm suction, slurping and working him
with her hands.

“Got everything to do with you.  I give you one hour, and
then the Keljmendi clan will be lookin’ for you instead of them.”

“Fine!  I’m …”  Laura bore down all the way, sucking as hard
she could.  “I’m coming.”

He disconnected the call as he filled her mouth with his
release.

Laura came up for air with a sticky wet smile and stripped
off her t-shirt to reveal her small handful breasts, pink nipples hard as
pebbles.

“My turn.”  She tilted her head to the side and bared her
neck, waiting impatiently for her nightly bite.

Mike had never imagined how easily a woman could become a
complete addict for his bite, needing it day and night, like a junky needs a
fix.  But he couldn’t deny the fact that he thoroughly enjoyed Laura’s
attentions, and her money.

She sat naked before him, a millionaire widower turned whore,
her eyes pleading with him to give her what she needed so badly.  She had been
hooked by the end of their second night together.  Within a week she had
promised to give him half her inheritance.  By the end of the second week she’d
been reduced to the level of a sex slave, willing to do anything to please him.

Vampires are truly nature’s perfect predator.  Their prey
want
to be consumed.  They beg to be bitten.  Fucking phenomenal.  He could spend
the entire night screwing and biting Laura until her heart gave out, and she’d
love every minute of it.  He figured that out the hard way, during his first
night with Sarah, the bank teller.  The more he bit her, the harder she fucked
him.  Riding his cock, his head buried in her neck, she just fell over in a damn
coronary.

He had been forced to learn a measure of self-control to
avoid killing Laura.

“Please Michael, stop playing with me.  You don’t know what
it’s like when you sleep through the day.  I go bonkers!  I can’t take waiting
for you.”

Laura was starting to cry, tears running down her face.  Her
hands shook with nervous need as she reached between his legs to stroke his flaccid
cock, willing to suck him off again if that’s what he wanted.

Amazing.

Never in his wildest dreams did he realize how much power he
could hold over women with nothing more than his bite.

He grinned in genuine pleasure.  “If you insist.”

“Then I insist!”

Her words trailed off as he pulled her down into a deep
bite, caressing her back and tight little ass as she moaned and squirmed in his
grip.  She came hard, fingering herself in an orgasmic frenzy as he held onto
her, sucking down his dinner, fresh, warm and delicious.

“Oh god!  Shit!  Don’t stop!  Don’t you bloody stop!”  She
had three fingers jammed inside her, masturbating her sopping wet folds with
the temporary insanity of explosive climax.

The woman was insatiable.  He knew if he wanted, he could
line up ten men to gang bang her, all at the same time.  As long as he
continued to bite her regularly, she’d fuck until she collapsed.

Too bad she wouldn’t last very long.  He had really begun to
enjoy living with her.  And spending her money, of course.

Drinking deeply from her throat as she spiraled through a
convulsive multiple orgasm, she finally flopped on his chest.  When she didn’t
move, he prodded her.  Nothing.

“Fuck!”  He’d taken too much.

Rolling her over gently onto the bed, he laid his head on
her chest and listened to her shallow breathing.  Her heart was racing hard and
fast, working overtime.

“Sorry, Laura.  I’ll try to be more careful next time.” 
Might not be too many next times.

He licked the smear of blood off her neck and kissed her on
the cheek before he grabbed his robe to head for the shower.

Waiting for the water to warm up, he couldn’t help but stare
at himself in the mirror, marveling at the wondrous changes to his physique. 
Love handles gone, the paunch had magically disappeared.  He could see every
muscle of his torso, ribs too.  He still looked his age, mid-forties, receding
hairline, but he could have passed for a fitness instructor.  He never stopped
smiling in the mirror.

Though it hadn’t been easy, stealing Michelle’s blood was
the most inspired thing he’d ever done.

 

* * * *

 

God, this place was a dive.  Mike shook his head at the fact
someone could trace him to a hole like The Rocking Horse.  He hadn’t thought
anyone could pursue his non-existent trail, but he’d stayed low anyways.  If
only he hadn’t killed that poor woman.  He’d seen the reports of Sarah’s death
in the newspapers.  That had to be related to this, somehow.

He didn’t even want to think about the idea that this could
be related to Paris, to Aaron.  And if so, how the hell did Aaron know Mike had
survived?

He’d thought he was dead for sure in Paris.  Michelle – that
psychotic bitch – had sliced him wide open and strung his guts out on the floor. 
He barely stayed conscious long enough to scoop them back in.  Hardly seemed
possible that anyone could survive such trauma to stand here in front of this
craphole strip club without a scar to show for it.  Vampirism was a god damn
miracle.  Perhaps he couldn’t be killed.

He wondered if Michelle had survived. 
Nah
.  He
filled her with thirteen shots from a Glock.  A damn elephant couldn’t survive
that.

He stepped in the door to the strip club and shook off the
cold.  Definitely a huge difference between here and Vegas.  Natives of Vegas
had never seen snow.  His vacation in London might need to be cut short.  Looks
like it was time to go home.  But if someone was searching for him, Vegas would
be an obvious place to look.

He needed to stay low, flush these people out and figure out
how to get rid of the problem.  No sense going through life looking over your
shoulder.

Seconds after entering through the front door, a man stood
up from a table by the entrance and approached Mike.  “About time.”  The man
looked very much like Reza, older, thinner, perhaps a bit more severe, he could
easily be a cousin or uncle.

“I’m here.  There’s no guarantee I have any answers for you,
but I am guessing you have some kind of video footage to show me?”  Mike had noted
several cameras positioned about the place the last time he was here.  Someone
kept a close eye on this operation.  A little overkill, but this was London,
the land of cameras on every street corner.

“Name’s Bresnik.  Reza is my third cousin.  This is a family
operation.  We’re not happy about this … disturbance.  You understand?”

Mike nodded and waited silently for him to go on.

“I have video, and you’ll see it from every bloody angle.  But
you’re going to tell me who these bastards are and what they want with you.  If
you’d like to leave here in one piece, you’ll tell me everything.”

The two juggernauts pretending to hang casually by the front
door stepped up behind Mike.  He heard their slow, sluggish hearts, probably
plagued with high blood pressure, and even higher cholesterol.  Definitely no
match for him.  He could break all three of them.  Their weak bones and flesh would
sever in his hands.  He’d enjoy it immensely.  But there was a time and place for
such things.  Not here, not now.  For once in their pathetic lives, these men
could serve a purpose.

“I have nothing to hide.  I will help you however I can.” 
Mike nodded and tried his best to look innocent.

Bresnik pierced him with a stare.  In another life, Mike
would have feared this man, but not now.  Bresnik played his intimidation card
well.  “Yes, you will help me.  You will tell me everything you know about
these bastards.”  He nodded towards a side door and then led the way, the two
thugs trailing behind them.

They made their way to an office of sorts, with a wooden
desk and two flat-screen PC’s tied into the surveillance system.  Bresnik sat
behind the desk and motioned to Mike to sit.  The thugs stood back in the
hallway, door open, watching.

With a few clicks, Bresnik had what he wanted.  He turned
the screen to face Mike, and here they were, Aaron and Michelle, together,
unstoppable.  Mike watched the screen, fascinated, as Aaron took out a man near
twice his size, and Michelle raked the other man’s face with her wicked razor nails. 
The same nails that had torn through Mike’s stomach and ripped out his
intestines.

The sight of them filled him with awe, reverence and fear
all at once.

How could she be alive?  No one could survive thirteen shots
at point blank range.

“I see you know them.”  Bresnik eyed him smugly.

Mike swallowed down his confusion and breathed deep, trying
for some measure of composure.  “Yes.  Only the young man and blonde.  I don’t
know the others.”

His thoughts raced over all the possibilities for how to deal
with them.  The two vampires together were far more than he could handle.  He’d
seen the slaughter they were capable of in Las Vegas, what Michelle alone was
capable of.  He couldn’t take them by himself.  Plus, they had friends who
seemed just as formidable.  Especially the big guy with the build of a
professional wrestler.  That man moved like a seasoned combat veteran:
confident, fearless, lethal.

Mike needed all the help he could get.  He needed the
Keljmendi clan.

“These two, Aaron and Michelle,” he pointed at them on the
screen, “they are here for me.  But I believe they may have business in London
as well.  I don’t know the other two women or the big guy.  I have never seen
them before.”

Bresnik just watched him quietly, and then revealed a new
piece of the puzzle.  “The large man is Russian.  I suspect he is the one in
charge.”

Mike frowned, not knowing what to make of this.  Bresnik
waited.

Mike sighed.  He would have to give this man something more
to go on.  “I followed Aaron and Michelle from Las Vegas to Paris.  But it was
too dangerous.  I abandoned the investigation.”  Mike pulled out his private investigator
license from the State of Nevada and showed it to Bresnik.  “Don’t let their
appearance fool you.  Aaron and Michelle are killers.  Your men are lucky to be
alive.  These two killed a group of Colombians in Vegas, along with my client,
the head of security at Caesars Palace.”  Mike would give Bresnik the truth
that he needed, the truth he could understand.

“I am supposed to believe these fucking supermodels with
their Russian pimp are killers?  Brawlers, yes.  Maybe a boxer?  This one is
very fast.”  He pointed at Aaron frozen in a grainy black and white image. 
“What proof do you have of these things?”

Mike had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.  He hated aligning
himself with this kind of man.  There is rarely any true benefit to be had from
getting cozy with mafia, especially the Albanian mafia.

But, there seemed no way around it.  If he wanted these men
to solve his problem, he would have to give them a reason.  Like a good
soldier, Mike had come prepared for the worst.  He reached into his pocket and
pulled out a USB flash drive and handed it to Bresnik.  “That’s video I filmed
in the desert of Vegas.  You can see Aaron and Michelle as they burned the
bodies of the Colombians.  They stole the cocaine and the money, several
kilos.”

Bresnik perked up.  “You think they brought it here, to
London?”  He plugged the USB flash drive into the side of the monitor and
clicked through to the video of Aaron and Michelle tossing corpses on a
bonfire.

Mike shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It’s possible.  They could
be trying to set up shop here.”

Bresnik’s eyes never left the video.  The Albanian watched
the vampires burn the bodies of the dead, standing there looking like a pair of
underwear models, slim and trim, young and beautiful.

Bresnik scratched the stubble on his unshaven face and
slipped his fingers through black, greasy lanks of hair.  He scrutinized Mike
closely.  “So, why are they playing with Russians?  Maybe the Russian is
helping them move the coke?”

“That would make sense.”  Mike nodded.

He watched the conclusions forming on Bresnik’s face.  He
had a pretty good idea of a man like Bresnik’s thought process.  The Albanian
probably wanted Aaron and Michelle’s heads on a platter, simple revenge.  He
would probably want any drugs or cash they might have.  More, he probably wanted
to dig his fingers into any network they might have, including the Russian.  Then
there were the women of course, he probably planned to cart them off to some
shithole brothel in Macedonia.  Everyone knows Albanians are the masters of the
sex slavery trade across Europe.

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