Wicked Hunt (Dark Hearts Book 3) (17 page)

Zorie

His leg jarred the glass sticking through my foot and I writhed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” That came out in a squeaky, panicked gasp due to him biting down on my throat. To my surprise, he released my neck and stared down at my leg. Had the glass had cut him too?

I panted jaggedly through my terror and the rip and thump of the pain, not sure whether to nurse my throat where he’d bit it so hard I’d been choking, or to try to reach for my foot. His body was in the way though.

My leg stiffened as I tried to hold down the pain, to still it, but that only stirred my foot muscles, moved things, cut the glass into me again.

“Fuck!” Tears gushed from my eyes, blinding me, in some stupid reaction. I grabbed for something to claw my fingers into and found I had his shoulder.

I was possibly bleeding a lot. The foot had a ton of blood vessels, and having him knocking it had pushed that glass around.

I was so stuffed.

He drew away, then leaned over and sniffed at my foot, or seemed to. Then I felt a soft rhythmic rasping where the wound must be. He was licking my foot, consuming my blood.

My gasping shudders rode counterpoint to each lick. I grimaced, tensing for the bite that seemed inevitable, imagining the tearing of my flesh.

For the first time in
ever
, I was intimidated. He weighed twice as much as I did, was bigger than Grimm. I’d barely dent him with a hammer.

How far would these bloody, animal needs take him?

Then he pinned down my ankle, hard, with one hand, and dragged out the glass.

The tinkle as he threw it aside was drowned out a half second later by my scream.

Blackness reigned.

The world wobbled into place.

Fainting was only natural, wasn’t it? I spent foggy minutes thinking about that while draped over his back as he carried me somewhere. Blood dripped constantly from my toes. His arm was across the back of my thigh and his hand on my ass.

I didn’t know what he intended to do but there was no one else here, just me. Johann had said he’d given a lot of women to this Wolfe. They weren’t here and they weren’t alive. There would be little down here to eat. If I simply stayed hanging over his shoulder, I’d be dead eventually.

Me or him.

But all I could do like this was scrape his back with my teeth or my nails. Kicking? Thinking of doing that with my hurt foot was daunting. The pain when he’d ripped out the glass had scared me and I really didn’t want that again. Above my eyebrow throbbed too. I’d cut myself there on something. My head seemed filled with something that sloshed to and fro with every step he took.

Concussion, weakness from blood loss, despair? Pick one.

I stayed where I was, and maybe fainted again.

It was black here, totally black.

I lay on something soft. I’d been moved and didn’t remember coming here.

Lost and somewhere deep in this complex. Wolfe had to be able to see in the dark. He’d not used anything to make light and I recalled the first part of the journey – there’d been no light, yet he’d jogged at times.

No wonder the women didn’t escape. I couldn’t even see my fingers. The only sound was my breathing...and his, and his footsteps.

I took stock of my body. Things had changed. My hurt foot was wrapped in cloth. I curled the toes of my good foot, distressed and wondering what to do. Only the bad one sympathized and curled too, a little. I whimpered. Between my legs ached and I could feel wetness down there. The bastard. While I’d been unconscious, had he fucked me?

Another footstep warned me he was close. His smell approached too and I gagged.

I rose up on my arms and dragged myself backward, away from him. He only came nearer and I’d reached the edge of the mattress. Behind me could be the edge of nothing for all I knew.

The sounds though, the way they softened, it was a clue. No breeze blew in here. There had to be walls. This was a room.

Staying with him would still mean my death. When his foot brushed my leg, when his hand gripped my hair, I drew in a big gulp of air, preparing to do
something
.

When a sound somewhere nearby seemed that of a man running...

I screamed, as loudly as I could.

He turned away from me and a few seconds later, I saw a curtain swept aside from an entrance, revealing what I felt blessed to see – light.

As Wolfe stood in the doorway, legs apart, I screamed again, and I swear I heard the footsteps grow louder.

Someone came. Grimm, it was Grimm. I could feel him in my mind.

This room – of course it would be close to the open space of the silo. That was where his food and women came from. I made another deduction, a tragic one. A man left alone for eight years needed light; perhaps he needed it more than anyone else on this planet.

For a flicker of a second, for an incredibly stupid yet forgiving moment, I saw him for who and what he was – saw the why. I didn’t blame him in that moment.

It passed and I remembered what to do.

“I’m here! I’m here!”

The running seemed louder and I smiled.

Wolfe stomped over and slammed a hand across my face, stunning me. The floor was my friend for several seconds. Thoughts had slowed to slug speed.

“Zorie! Zorie? I’m coming!”

If I yelled again, Wolfe might kill me.

I spat blood and took a shaky breath.

Fuck this.
“I’m here! I’m –”

I expected another blow, instead mesmer power dropped upon me, solid as the darkness, blanketing thoughts. It made me nothing but an instrument of Wolfe’s.

I shivered as Grimm’s solid footfalls ended at the door.

He bellowed then ran in and fell on Wolfe. Their arms wrapped around each other, their fists pounded, and I was sure I saw Wolfe lunge and tear a chunk of flesh from Grimm.

Light droplets of what might be blood spattered my face.

The fight went on, made of the terrible blows and roars of men trying to kill their opponent. The wan light from the now curtainless door was only enough to see glimpses as they rolled and slammed each other into walls and floors.

If Grimm didn’t win, I was lost. If he didn’t win, it would be because he was dead.

I cowered in a corner, keeping away from the fight, as per Wolfe’s last instructions, and felt the wall at my back shake from the great blows. I couldn’t act but, to my sadness, I could still guess and predict.

Grimm was mean and strong but Wolfe was a beast. Every shred of his humanity was gone, and what was left was pure survival instinct. He would do anything to win.

A man who could strategize could beat him, a man quick of mind as well as feet. A man with guns. Grimm had none of those.

He would lose. He had no chance to beat Wolfe, though he threw him here and there and connected some huge blows.

Wolfe had Grimm down and he was using his fists like a machine, hitting, hitting, rising and falling, crushing Grimm to the floor with each and every thump.

Then Mavros stood in the doorway, and in his hands were what we needed most – a flashlight and a big damn gun.

The first shot obliterated my eardrums.

Mavros

Through the doorway, I could see men fighting. Until I shone the light on them, I wasn’t sure who was who.

It was Grimm and a stranger who had to be Wolfe. At least, I assumed it was Grimm underneath him, getting thrashed...killed. Beating down on someone like that wasn’t a love kiss.

If I hesitated, Grimm would be seriously injured. Though he still fought back, the man on top of him looked bigger and he was definitely winning.

I yanked out the pistol and had to shine the flashlight on it to find the safety. Swearing, I spotted the safety and flicked it off. Meantime more crunching, wet blows landed on Grimm.

I raised the gun, remembered to brace for the recoil, aimed, saw Wolfe’s arm rising past the sight, and I jerked off a shot.

God knows where it hit.

Like a hound scenting prey, Wolfe whipped around, and leaped my way, bounding. In two strides, he was on me.

I backed away like crazy, creating distance, and he still rammed into me, sending me sprawling. Before I could rise he was in my face again. I hadn’t lost the gun. My grip on it was iron. It was my lifeline. My savior. My one way to defeat this animal. My flashlight was rolling but shining on him in spurts. Now I saw him, now I didn’t.
Saw him
– eyes bulging, nostrils snorting, teeth bared and ugly. His fist swung back ready to smack me into the floor.

I cranked off another shot. The bullet tore into him somewhere, for blood leapt up in a spray and he was thrown backward, spinning. After one last guttural and angry sound, he turned and ran off down the corridor, toward the open ground. My next three shots seemed to miss and I watched him lope away and become nothing in the darkness.

Whatever rounds I had left, I’d save them.

With my empty hand, I levered myself off the ground, keeping the gun ready in case he returned. His legs were obviously fine, but if I’d hit his body, he might bleed out. There were other exits from the silo area. Maybe he’d keep running and not come back.

Shakily, I found my feet, listening for a moment and only hearing faint sounds, feeling that telling feel of mesmer fade. The man was a mesmer but this place might as well be a maze. He’d know it intimately. We’d not track him and I didn’t have the slightest inclination to do so.

The flashlight was cradled into the corner of wall and floor. I picked it up and kissed it. If it’d shone the other way, I would’ve been a smear on the floor.

In the room, Grimm was getting up using one arm, the other arm hung down and blood stained most of its length. A dark patch on his biceps told me he had an injury there.

“He’s gone,” I croaked. “For now. I shot him once. Zorie?” That she’d barely moved said bad things.

“I’m hurt – my foot, my head, but I’m okay otherwise.” She laughed dismissively and her voice was hoarse. From screaming, I guessed. What a pity my last bullets had missed Wolfe.

I went to her and examined her as well as I could in the poor light. “Your foot?”

“Glass. Went all the way through. Wolfe bandaged it while I was unconscious.” Suddenly she curled forward into a ball and shook with large tremors. “God. Fuck! Thank god you came. I thought...I thought...I really thought I was going to be dead soon.” She straightened and took in that Grimm had limped over and joined us. He didn’t seem to register that Zorie had fallen apart for a few seconds. That wasn’t surprising, considering his state.

“Oh Grimm, you’re hurt. All because of what I did.” She switched attention to me. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t fuss over me. Not now. I’m going to be alright. Just...had to get that out. Grimm is way worse.” There was desperation in her eyes, her voice.

Grimm managed a grunt then: “I’m okay.”

She reached and touched his leg.

“Don’t apologize, Zorie. I’m sorry we weren’t here faster.” I wanted to hug her but the way she’d collapsed then drawn herself together, fast, hinted at both her fragility and her strength. She couldn’t afford weakness in this moment. None of us could.

“Look, he might come back and most of us are not in any shape to hurt him. We need to be ready. Is that the only weapon?” She indicated my gun.

“No.” I looked from her to Grimm, who was taking deep, irregular breaths. His face was contorted, by pain, for certain. “You’re both so hurt I don’t know who to give this little thing to.” I drew the 9mm pistol from the shoulder holster.

“Me,” they both said.

“Me,” Zorie added, frowning. “The Hulk has a busted arm.”

Grimm growled in disagreement and the insanity of the situation hit me and made me laugh.

“Will I toss a coin? Look. Share the damn thing.” Then I handed it to Zorie. “You watch the door while we take stock. Once we get moving...” To where I didn’t know, yet. “You might have to give it to Grimm. If you’re hopping on one foot, you won’t be able to aim well.”

“Okay.” The way she checked the slide and the safety made me proud. Not many men would be this steady after what’d happened to her.

I studied Grimm, his bleeding arm, and his general Neanderthal demeanor. I plunged in and said what I needed to. “Can you remember how to use a gun?”

Can I trust you not to shoot me?

While I waited for his answer, I listened, and I noticed both of them cocking their ears toward the door. We were all nervous and ready to act if Wolfe returned. He was as scary as a rabid dog. Now I’d seen Grimm’s arm up close, I knew his wound was a bite mark, and flesh was missing.

“I can shoot.” He nodded at me, slowly. “I can think better right now.”

“The drug?” Zorie ventured.

Grimm blinked. “Drug? I can’t recall –”

“They dosed you with something. I figured it might be a placebo, after all, but then again, Johann wanted you available as a test subject and alive. Maybe he really gave you something that helps?”

That was news. “Whatever it was, we should find out what it was, after we get out of here.”

Again we all listened. My hint about leaving must have reminded them about Wolfe.

“That’s the big question. How do we do that?” Zorie swept some hair off her forehead and I noticed her worried frown.

I’d kneeled and had been checking her body for more wounds, and I found Grimm was doing the same. We’d met at her head end when both of us peered at her forehead.

“Guys. Guys! I’m okay and stop scowling at each other. It gets on my nerves. I need peace, serenity.” She made damping motions, pressing down on the air with her palms. Then she hissed and half-shook her hand, only to hiss again. “Owie. Sore finger. Nothing much but he bit me.”

When we both moved to take her wrist, I stopped and stared at Grimm. I wanted to laugh but maybe it was the wrong time.

“What?” Grimm had a permanent scowl.

“Nothing. You look her over. Make sure that bandage has stopped any bleeding.” I climbed to my feet, still watching them.

“I should be looking
you
over too.” She poked Grimm in the chest with her free hand then grimaced at me. “Thank you. I’m not that broken and we need to get a move on. Help me up.”

“Not yet. Stay there and rest. Let me think.”

“Can’t we use the cage?”

So hopeful sounding. I didn’t want to dash that hope, yet.

I wasn’t revealing why we couldn’t. She’d figure it out anyway.

What did we have?

“I passed a map of some sort while running from him. Maybe we could find the entrance? Get it open?”

After all these years? With this a high-security place? In any case, the flashlight might die before we found it. The entrance might be rusted shut. “I have one other card up my sleeve. A phone.”

“Me too. I forgot but I have Rudy’s.” She pulled it out and turned it on. “No service. We’re underground a long way.”

I found mine and it was the same – zero bars. “If we go to the open space, we might get reception but we’ll have to watch out for Wolfe. He ran that way.”

“Zorie,” Grimm spoke up. “Your foot has stopped bleeding. You head cut is small. Your finger, I can’t fix but...” He kissed it gently then lowered her hand to her lap.

“Thank you,” She smiled at him and my heart burned me in the way it had a few times before. I’d decided it wasn’t indigestion.

Fuck this.

“You two plan. I’ll watch.” Grimm stood and quietly walked to the door, only hobbling a little, working his arm back and forth as if to get used to the discomfort.

I’d be a cry baby on the floor with a chunk like that out of me.

“There’s not much to decide. I have a gun, so do you. We’re mostly walking wounded but we need to get to the open ground and see if the phones work. That’s plan one.”

“Plan two?” She tilted her eyebrow.

“If Wolfe shows up, we shoot him.”

“Good plans. Now help me up.”

We limped, squeaked, whimpered, and made our slow way to the open area – I prayed we’d be able to phone from there. Since the flashlight illuminated the way to the front, Grimm volunteered to watch the rear, because apparently, he could see in the dark, a bit...just a bit.

That scared me when he revealed it and I think also Zorie.

Wolfe could do that. Though she and I exchanged looks, neither of us told Grimm. I figured she didn’t want to alarm him. My reason? Strangely, it was mostly the same one.

These two, both of them, they’d grown on me, like barnacles, and like sexy, gorgeous, beautiful... Yeah, the last descriptions were of Zorie. Grimm? I wasn’t sure of him yet.

Not hitting me had been a good new beginning.

Standing in the middle of the spotlighted area, I felt like a target, but the phone had three bars.

“We’re a target here,” Zorie whispered.

“Uh-huh.”

Grimm gave a grunt. “Yes. Phone fast, Mavros.”

“I am.” I was already doing it.

“Yes,” he added. “I want to keep you alive.”

I stopped, stared. “Who?”

He sniffed, scanned the perimeter. “Both of you.”

Well.
New also. The phone was connecting. Kim answered.

“We need extraction. Remember you promised to help us get out of Thailand if we lived?”

“Where are you?”

“In the silo. Where the crane comes down. I need someone to come raise it.” The pause was as ominous a pause as I’d ever heard. “Of course, I can ring someone else. That would mean they’d know what this is and what’s been happening here.”

Kim had ideas about this facility. Big ideas, I gathered, but he’d had one other proviso.

“Is Wolfe dead?”

And that was it. If anyone monitored this conversation, my next words would incriminate me. But then again, my actions had been justifiable. “I shot him. He has a 44 slug in him. If he doesn’t die, I’ll be surprised, but he ran off.”

“Let me think.”

Again, ominous seconds. I gripped the phone and considered shoving it up Kim’s rear if I ever met him.

“Very well, but I need an additional payment. It is dangerous. I will get you out. You will pay more. If when I send my men down there, in...a month, and they discover he is still alive, I keep all your money. If not, you will get half of the extra back. Deal?”

What else. “Deal. Be quick.”

The connection ended.

“I’m going to be poor soon.” I tucked away the phone. “Help is coming.”

He’d get me to do the transfer before he let us go. Hopefully he wouldn’t demand more and then kill us all. I figured not. Kim was the sort of thief who had his own special morals that he never deviated from, unless you failed him.