Ultimate Kill (Book 1 Ultimate CORE Trilogy) (CORE Series) (16 page)

But she hadn’t. Ric, the perverse sadist, had kept her in his cottage and played with her until the wee hours of the night. One thing he liked about Ric, he never hid secrets and was always eager to share gory details. The ones Ric had shared with him this morning were definitely gory. The pictures Ric had showed him, the proof.

He smiled. “It’s a shame the labyrinth was too full. Alison admired the magnolia tree at its center and it would have been quite fitting as her final resting place.” After Ric had choked the life out of her, he’d buried her broken body behind his cottage. Considering the center of the maze held dozens of skeletal remains—many courtesy of his great-grandfather—they would have to start using many other parts of his property to bury their secrets.

Excitement brightened Ric’s eyes. “Yes, it would have been quite fitting. And you’re right. I’m sure once you’ve drawn her out from wherever she’s been hiding, if she gives you trouble, I can convince her that she belongs with you.”
 

“You’ll convince her she belongs
to
me,” he corrected. And she did belong to him. From the moment he’d seen her working at that shitty club, he’d wanted to possess her. Her body was the type a man could enjoy for hours on end. Her smile had transported him to another time, to when he’d been a naïve child seeking adventure and treasures. To before he’d found the center of the labyrinth and his great-grandfather’s boney surprises. More than that, the light in her eyes carried hope, dreams and innocence.
 

He hadn’t hoped for anything in more than twenty years. Hope was for those who were afraid to risk, dreams were for the ignorant who would rather fantasize than act, and innocence…. He’d lost his innocence in the maze that hot, sunny day when he was nine. The dead had spoken to him that afternoon, along with his great-grandfather. If he planned to make something of himself, be stronger and more powerful than his enemies, he would need to shed his naivety, be ruthless, be a conqueror.
 

The night he’d taken her to his bed and made her his, she hadn’t realized she’d given him more than her body. The moment he’d entered her, she’d unknowingly turned her life over to him. The pleasure he’d found with her had been more than physical. She was his opposite, but unlike his stupid wife whose cowardice sickened him, at least she had gumption. She challenged him. Her spirit and strength matched his own and he wanted to drain it from her. Soak up her very essence and show her who held the power.
 

He stowed the Glenfiddich on the shelf behind him, planning to finish the whiskey tomorrow evening when the real celebration would begin. “Many men want to be me. They want what I have. My money, my company, my possession…my power.” He lifted his tumbler. “Many men also fear me.”

“As they should,” Ric said, narrowing his eyes and giving him a single nod.
 

After sipping his whiskey, he smiled. “Yes, and even though they’re afraid of what I can do to them and know that I could destroy them, they still do what I ask despite the consequences. She fears me, too. But she’s resourceful. I don’t know how she’s managed to hide from me, and although I hate to admit it, I admire her. For now.” He set the empty glass into the sink. “I’ve spent too many years and too much money hunting her. Now she’s forced me to kill. The people who will die tomorrow, their blood will stain her hands. Then again, their blood will also help propel me into a political position that will make my power limitless. For that alone, I might have you go easy on her.”

Ric cracked a grin. “In the beginning.”

Amused, he chuckled. “And probably not for long. Our time together will likely be short. Speaking of which, have you upgraded the locks in the cellar?” After he’d had Ric put his plan into motion, he’d also had him make sure his prey’s accommodations met his standards. The secret room in the cellar was only known to him, Ric, Santiago and Vlad, and had once been used by his great-grandfather. He’d discovered the room while still searching for his great-grandfather’s treasures. Hidden off the tunnel to Ric’s cottage, beneath the ground and built within bedrock, the room, although outdated, had plenty of indulgences and would prove a comfortable place when he chose to use her body. The servants knew nothing of the tunnel. Discovery would not occur. And she would remain in the room until Ric buried her.

“Yes, everything is set. I’ve also stocked the mini fridge and added extra lighting. Using a generator was a great idea.”

Of course it was. After all, it was
his
idea. He glanced at his Patek Philippe watch. “It’s getting late. Go home and rest. I’ll meet you in the garage at five-thirty.”

As Ric stood, a knock came at the door. Seconds later, Liliana entered the room and his mood soured. He hated the woman. Despised being saddled to her and couldn’t wait for her funeral.
 

“What do you want?” he asked as Ric left the room.
Lucky bastard.

She glanced around the bar and game room, a part of the estate she rarely visited thanks to his strict rules. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I want to go to bed and needed to talk to you about something first.”

Exiting from behind the bar, he shut off a few lights and made his way toward the door. “So talk,” he said, ushering her out of the room.

She kept up with him as he walked. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

Big plans
. “My schedule is none of your business.”

“Of course it’s not,” she said, her tone curt and disrespectful.

He turned and shoved her against the wall. “I’m glad you understand that. Watch how you talk to me. I won’t tolerate your insolence. Do you understand?”

Eyes wide and filled with fear, she nodded. “I wanted to see if it was okay for me to fly to New York tomorrow. I thought I’d take the private jet in the morning. I haven’t been able to find anything to wear to the charity ball, but when I spoke with my stylist, she suggested I meet her in New York and—”

“How long do you plan to ramble?” He pulled away from her, disgusted after touching her skinny, boney body. “Don’t waste my time and get to the point. You want to know if I care whether or not you go to New York and spend my money on a dress that will, most likely, not do anything to make you less ugly, correct?”

Her shit-brown eyes filled with tears as she nodded.

“Go. Stay the week for all I care. It’ll be nice not having to see your face around the house.” With Liliana gone, he could bring his prize to his bedroom, rather than having to fuck her in the cellar. “Actually, I insist. I also want you to take the kids and their nannies, too. I could use a break from all of you.” The kids didn’t really bother him. Fortunately, they favored him in looks and personality.
 

“A week?” she asked, her tone hopeful. “You don’t mind?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. The woman was the epitome of stupid. “I told you to leave,” he said, and began making his way up the ornate staircase to where his bedroom was located in the east wing of the house.
 

Although he’d forced himself to remain blasé in front of Liliana, excitement infused his body. His wife and children would be gone for the week, leaving only a few servants. Tomorrow would set off a chain of events that would not only lead the woman he’d sought for eight years back to him, but turn the country upside down with fear and terror.
 

When he reached his room, he stood in front of the dresser mirror and imagined standing at a podium. Cameras and reporters would surround the stage, clamoring to hear how he planned to bring the country together and offer refuge to those decimated by tragedy.

He smiled at his reflection.
 

Tragedy that
he
would unleash tomorrow.

Chapter 7

WITH FEAR AND LOATHING, Harrison eyed the tall, barbed wire fence surrounding the boarded-up warehouse. Nervous, anxious, he looked past where Vlad sat next to him in Santiago’s SUV. Across from the warehouse, morning rays from the rising sun fissured through the rundown buildings marred with graffiti. A handful of older, rusty dented cars lined the street. Along the cracked sidewalks litter rustled on the light breeze.

The Columbian stopped the vehicle. Vlad immediately climbed out, pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the metal gate. Santiago didn’t wait for Vlad to return and drove through the gate, while Vlad hefted the metal garage door leading into the darkened warehouse.
 

As Santiago parked the Yukon and Vlad closed the garage door with a hard thump, panic and claustrophobia seized Harrison by the throat. He’d grown up in a bad neighborhood, but not as bad as the one they were in now. Crime had ended up so out of hand here that businesses had shut down or moved to another location. Low income housing and apartments weren’t far from the warehouse, along with several gang hangouts. Last he’d heard, one gang ran a prostitution ring, while another dealt in drugs. If he and Mickey were to find a way to escape, and they ran into some people on the streets, he doubted they’d find any help. He understood the mentality of most of these people. They took care of themselves, took care of their own and, unless they saw opportunity to make a profit, shit on everyone else.

“Out,” Santiago ordered and killed the ignition.
 

Harrison stepped out of the SUV and followed Santiago and Mickey. As they made their way through the garage toward a metal staircase, he noticed a black Bentley in the far corner of the garage.

“Beautiful, eh?” Vlad asked as he caught up with them.
 

“For almost a quarter mil, it better be more than pretty,” Harrison responded, and stared at the bolted door next to where the car was parked. Although too far away to tell, he wondered if he could break the lock by simply smashing something large and heavy against it.

“Trust Vlad. Bentley go zero to sixty in four point three seconds. The car worth all pennies.”
 

Harrison stepped onto the metal stair. “You mean the car is worth every penny.”

“Harry needs to give Vlad break. You Americans have no idea how hard your sayings are to remember.”

When they reached the second floor of the four story building and approached a dented, corroded metal door, his stomach knotted. But then Santiago kept going up the staircase. Although Harrison didn’t relax, he looked at each step as a reprieve. A postponement to the inevitable. Eventually they’d wind up on one of the floors. Until they did, he tried to pretend none of this was happening. He wasn’t in an old warehouse, about to meet a man named after a vicious, savage animal.
 

He wasn’t about to aid in murder.

His skin crawled. His head grew light. He reached out and touched the wall, steadied himself from the vertigo.
 

“Vlad told Harry to eat,” the Russian said, his voice loud and echoing through the stairwell. He grabbed his arm. “You are weak as kitten.”

He shrugged Vlad off. “I’m fine.”

Vlad took him by the arm again and leaned toward him, his ice blue eyes imploring and understanding. “Show no fear, Harry,” the Russian whispered. “Honey Badger loves seeing fear in man’s eyes. Keep cool like ice cream. Trust Vlad.”

Although Vlad’s words didn’t help put him at ease or stop the anxiety coiling through his body, he did trust Vlad. The Russian had shown no indication that he planned to harm him. Instead, he’d given him numerous warnings. He’d take the other man’s advice and force himself to be strong in front of Honey Badger. In the process, he’d do his damnedest to find a way for Mickey and him to escape.

“I’m good now,” he said and started walking up the stairs again. “And it’s cool as a cucumber, not ice cream.”

Vlad frowned. “Ice cream colder than cucumber.” He shook his head. “Vlad will figure out these saying one day.”

When they reached the third flight, Santiago stood with Mickey in front of a door that, in comparison to the rest of the building, appeared brand new. The Columbian glanced to Vlad. “Once we’re in, take Mickey into the back room.” He then looked to Harrison and Mickey. “I’m going to give you two some advice. Do as you’re told and when you meet our boss, don’t call him Honey Badger.
Comprende
?”
 

Harrison nodded and looked to his brother. Mickey’s eyes held contempt, while his ashen face twisted in anger.
 

“Understand?” Santiago repeated in English.

Mickey finally gave the Columbian a curt nod.

“
Bueno
,” the Columbian said and then banged his fist against the door.
 

Seconds later, the door opened. A man Harrison placed in his mid-thirties greeted Santiago with a rueful smile. “He’s been impatiently waiting for you,” he said, his hazel eyes holding hints of amusement.

Santiago angled his head around the door. “Maybe he needs to upgrade his two hundred thousand dollar watch,” he said in a quiet voice. “We’re early.”
 

The man chuckled and tugged at the sleeves of his suit coat. “Why don’t you tell him that and see what happens?”

“No thanks,” Santiago replied. “I like my head and balls just like they are. On my body.”

As both men laughed, Vlad ushered him and Mickey inside. The man turned to the Russian. “Vlad, good to see you. Mickey, I trust my Columbian and Russian friends made sure you and your brother had everything you needed during the assignment.”