Chapter 9

Q

~I can’t contain him, you set me free. This isn’t a role I play, the monster is me…~

“Anything?” I demanded as Frederick hung up the phone.

“Nothing. He says he’s been banned from their operation for months, ever since he won a knife fight and killed one of the Wolverine’s guards.”

I stared at the ceiling, struggling with my anger. The rage bubbled in my blood, never granting peace. All I wanted to do was tear through the globe and kill anyone who stood in my way.

I wanted goddamn answers. I wanted a victim I could string up and torture names from. But nothing.

Fucking nothing in two long days.

Two long fucking days where I turned my entire book of contacts upside down, and nothing. I harassed, I cursed, I pleaded, I threatened.

Every single trafficker, every single man I’d ever accepted a bribe from and not~ one~ of them knew a fucking thing.

Tess had vanished. No one knew anything. No one would talk.

“Try harder, Roux. We’re running out of time.”

Frederick scowled, tapping the phone in his hand. “I know you won’t rest until you find her, man, but you’ve been awake for forty-eight hours.

“You barely survived a migraine that kicked your ass, and your blood pressure is through the roof.”

I stopped rifling through some old transaction files. I wanted to rip his fucking head off for suggesting I sleep.

As if that was an option when Tess could be God knows where, dealing with fuck knows what. “I’m not wasting energy telling you to piss off, Roux.” I waved angrily. “Go and help Franco.

“Be useful or leave. I have shit to do.”

I didn’t have time for anything but searching. I ran purely on vengeance and the need to kill.

I’d never had people in this space before, but now I didn’t give a shit about having a private zone. All I cared about was finding Tess.

If it meant I had to demolish every building I owned to do so, then so be it.

Standing abruptly, I grabbed the stack of files from my desk and strode into the bedroom.

For two days I hadn’t left my office. The rooms were a mess with strewn paper and scribbled notes. I had a small army of people in the lounge, overseen by Franco.

The moment we looked at the security footage and saw how two black-haired men bypassed the coding on the lift, we knew it had to be a trafficker with money.

They’d had the password—only someone with a substantial bank balance and knowledge of how I worked could figure it out—or buy it.

They strolled in, bold as fucking day, and took an unconscious Tess to the basement level where another accomplice had been waiting.

The only people who had security clearance on my private lift were head of cleaning and head of building security. Both were being interrogated right now.

I didn’t fucking go to all the trouble to keep my office out of bounds for the fail safes not to protect it.

And the bitch was, I ~knew~ who would’ve bribed or tortured to get the passkey, but I daren’t move until I had proof Tess was there. If I was wrong, the entire company would come crashing down.

The real kicker was I didn’t care about the company, but I did care about the women who hid in its protection.

“Fuck.”

I slapped my cheeks, trying to stay alert. It was hard fighting through the sludge. The residual brain-crushing pain of my migraine had stolen more from me than just coherent thought and vision.

It stole time.

For twelve hours, I was useless. Finding Tess’s hair ripped out on the bathroom floor with the syringe had been the final bullet, and I’d blacked out.

My body had reached its limit—turns out I wasn’t invincible after all—and if it hadn’t been for Frederick, I would’ve lost the plot entirely.

I vibrated with loathing; I ached with the strength of a thousand beasts to cover my hands in blood.

I needed to make the cocksuckers pay; I’d never rest until I did. But the headache cursed me to be a useless invalid, hogtying me to a long-suffering sentence.

I physically hit a fucking wall. And it gutted me.

Frederick organized the team to help search. He ordered Franco to arrange his top men to leave at a moment’s notice.

He made a thousand calls, sent a hundred emails, all the while I lay dead in the dark.

My vision completely deserted me, and I was sensible enough to know I was a hindrance, not a help. But it still fucking hurt to stay out of their way, concentrating on myself rather than Tess.

It was wrong, and I cursed the weakness in my blood.

I let Tess down. I left my woman to suffer at the hands of bastards all while I huddled in a fucking corner and popped painkillers like Tic-Tacs.

It wasn’t until Frederick snuck a sleeping tablet into a handful of codeine that I fell asleep, and the migraine lost its power over me.

But the sleep wasn’t restful; it robbed the rest of my sanity.

Images of blood and broken bones and Tess screaming ceaselessly for my help. Her voice stabbed my heart over and over, full of accusation for letting this happen to her.

The moment I woke, I’d thrown myself headlong into tracking down the cunts who took her. But I hadn’t stopped to use my useless brain.

Breathing hard, I perched on the end of the bed and fanned out the files. Now that I had no one prying down my neck, I opened the paperwork that might hold some clues to finding her.

The records on all the girls I saved.

Tess’s details were at the back, and I cracked the folder open.

~Subject: Blonde Girl on Scooter

Barcode reference: 302493528752445

Age: Twenty to thirty

Temperament: Angry and violent

Sexual status: Not virgin

Sexual health: No diseases

Ownership guidelines: Recommend strict punishment to break temper. Trim body, fit enough for extreme activities.

History: No living relatives~

My eyes fell to the number. I’d tried to track Tess using the device when I sent her back to Australia, but it didn’t work. I always thought she removed it when she went home to Brax.

I’d been pissed and proud at her for cutting it out because it meant she was safe even though I couldn’t spy on her whereabouts.

~Try it anyway. You never know.~

My mind spooled back to letting Tess go. My sacrifice hadn’t been voluntary. I wanted to keep her forever, but I didn’t want to crush her. Tess was my phenomenon.

The once-in-a-lifetime dream that I never thought I’d get. ~And I’ve fucked it up.~

Motherfucker, screw it. I wouldn’t sit here holding my cock while the Red Wolverine had Tess. He’d left his note—deliberately to get me to hunt him. If it was a trap, I didn’t care anymore.

No one was more important than Tess.

Grabbing the spare laptop I kept in the bedside table, I called up the program associated with the tracking number and entered the code. It was a waste of time, but I had to check.

The connection took a while, and I placed my hand on the lid to close it. ~See, she did remove it.~

Then a small map appeared, followed by zooming in, faster and faster until it zeroed in on the one country I’d suspected and hoped to avoid.

Intense anger throttled my limbs. I wanted to howl. A month she’d been back in Australia. A full fucking ~month~ and she didn’t remove it? What a moron. An idiot.

Did she enjoy playing roulette with her life?

I wanted to kill her for being so stupid. She gave them the perfect way to find her!

~When I get my hands on her, by God, I’ll make her pay.~

If she’d been standing in front of me, I would’ve cut it out myself and wrung her neck for being so stupid.

At least I now had proof.

The Red Wolverine had her—it was undeniable.

I wanted to ruin him. I wanted to take away his business, his money, his very flesh and blood. And only when he had absolutely nothing would I torture him until he begged me to kill him.

That’s how much I hated Gerald’s guts.

Tess was in Russia.

“Frederick, get your ass in here!”

Footsteps charged down the corridor, soft on the carpet. “What is it? What’d you find?”

I threw the laptop to the side. “I’ve confirmed he has her in Russia. We’re leaving.” I brushed past him, but he stopped me.

“But we asked the contacts we have in his team. They said they haven’t seen a girl matching Tess’s description. If we barge in and start shooting, you’re ruined, Q.

“The rest of your contacts will come after you. Think clearly for a moment. Are you sure he’s got her?”

I bared my teeth and rushed back to the bed. Grabbing the laptop with the flickering red dot in Moscow, I shoved the machine into his arms. “Enough fucking proof for you?”

Leaving him to worry that my company was about to disassemble and fall into ruin, I careened into the lounge to find Franco.

I moved like a fucking whirlwind of male fury.

His dark brown hair hung over his forehead and lack of sleep made his eyes raw and brutal. He looked up as I crooked a finger for him to come to me.

When he was away from the other staff, I muttered, “Call up nine of your top mercenaries. Meet me at the airport in an hour. We’re going in.

“I don’t care if we have to kill every last bastard if it means we find her.”

No element of surprise or pause; Franco knew when to just obey orders. His eyes glinted with pleasure. “Yes, sir. I’ll see you at the airport.”

Frederick, with his old-fashioned style and friendly personality, was the polar opposite to me—he lived a tame life, married the sweet girl, lived in a presentable house—while Franco, the man I hired because I saw how efficiently he killed, indulged in the same hobbies I did, just on a more acceptable scale.

Franco and I never talked about our similarities, but we knew. It was easy to spot the monster in others.

He may look like a gentleman: moving sedately, speaking eloquently, but beneath the sleek façade lurked a killer with a temper.

Franco had no remorse for dealing out vengeance to those who deserved it.

And that made him fucking perfect.

I may be going to Moscow, to the den of the Red Wolverine, but I went with armed men whom I trusted with my life.

My cell phone rang in my pocket. I grabbed it with one hand, nodding at Franco to go and fulfill his orders.

“Mercer,” I snapped.

Frederick came back into the lounge and gave me the thumbs-up sign. The tightness in my chest unwound a little.

His approval for smashing the reputation of ~Moineau~ Holdings meant more than I wanted to admit. Who knew what we would be able to salvage from the rubble once this was all over.

Once it got out that I accepted women as bribes, my true contacts would dry up.

And when the knowledge that I let those women go and I was on the warpath for the fucktards who sold them to me landed on evil ears, I was painting a massive bull’s-eye on my back.

“Frederick just told me you’re heading to Russia. I must advise you that our intel won’t back you up if anything goes wrong. Think carefully, Quincy. We can’t help you if you leave our protection.”

The chief of police, also a close confidant, lectured me. The same man who encouraged me to see how deep my emotions went for Tess.

The same man who told me he wouldn’t arrest me if I decided to keep Tess indefinitely.

I didn’t like that he gave me double standards—I didn’t deserve it.

I swallowed back the curses I wanted to throw. His heart was in a good place. “I won’t do anything stupid, Dubois.”

He chuckled. “I don’t believe that for a second. But I had to call and say my piece. Just…just promise me you won’t put your life on the line for one woman.”

My finger twitched on the hang up button. “She’s more than just one woman, Dubois.”~She’s my life.~

Silence reigned before the police chief sighed. “In that case, you have our backing. If and when the newspapers get wind of what you’ve done, I’ll try and issue a gag order to the best of my ability.”

~“Merci.”~ I hung up before he could sprout some other bullshit wisdom. I didn’t need wisdom at a time like this. I needed a semi-automatic and a rocket launcher.

Pressing the number on speed-dial, I called Hans, who lived on standby to fly my G650 private jet. He answered on the first ring.

“Arrange a flight plan to Moscow. Leaving in sixty minutes. I’ll see you soon.” I hung up, watching the commotion in the room. Soon this would all be over, and Tess would be safely back with me.

That moment seemed too distant to contemplate. I couldn’t imagine ever feeling human again until I had her back in my bed.

My phone rang. I answered it on autopilot. ~“Quoi?”~ What?

“Master, please give me some news. Any news! Have you found her yet?” Suzette’s sweet voice came down the phone, high with panic. I regretted telling her yesterday.

She’d caught me off guard, complaining I hadn’t given her instructions for dinner, asking if Tess and I were returning home that night.

I snapped and told her of course I wouldn’t be fucking coming home that night or any night, not while Tess was stolen and in danger. That just opened a huge barrel of fucking problems.

“You have to let me work, Suzette. I’ll call you the moment I’ve got her.”

A sniff came down the line followed by a hard-edged promise. “You find her, and you make those bastards pay. She belongs with us. Find her quickly.”

I couldn’t speak; my throat snapped closed.

Tess touched all our lives, and we’d all be ruined if she never returned.

There was nothing I could say. Nothing I wanted to say. I just grunted and hung up.

Half an hour later, we pulled up at the private wing of the airport. I went to open the car door but paused. Turning to Frederick, I said, “You’ve done more than enough, Roux.

“Go home to Angelique.” I slapped him on the shoulder in gratitude. In all honesty, I didn’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t been there that first afternoon.

My migraine rendered me incapacitated while he orchestrated a worldwide manhunt.

“I’m coming. No questions or arguments.” He smiled. “I told you; I want to meet the woman who wrapped you around her little finger.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t expect you to give any more than you already have.”

He nodded, glancing out the window. “I know. But you’d do the same for me.

“I keep putting myself in your shoes, and it’s a fucking painful place to be, Q. I love Angelique, we’ve been together for ten years, and the thought of suddenly being without her... it’s excruciating.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “That’s why you should go home to her. I don’t want to be the reason why you don’t return.”

His forehead furrowed as his temper filled the car. “I’m coming. Shut up.”

There was nothing else I could do. I’d tried to protect him—this wasn’t his battle, but I wasn’t going to waste time or resources by arguing. I shrugged and exited the car.

Franco stood by the plane steps, giving me a hard grin. “Don’t worry. She was strong enough to stand up to you. She’s strong enough to stand up to whoever took her.”

A proud smile tainted my sorrow-tugged mouth. “She’s the strongest woman I know.” Memories of whipping her, fucking her, heated my blood. Throughout everything I did to her, she never broke.

I had to hold faith that she’d remain strong.

I nodded to Franco and entered the plush interior of the Jetstream. Down the back, nine men had already buckled up ready to go—an army of cloned power, ruthlessness, and severity.

Black suits, black ties, and white shirts, I had an entire cast of James fucking Bond at my disposal.

As I sat down, a single thought popped into my head. ~I’m not frightened she won’t fight, I’m worried she’ll fight too hard.~

If the Red Wolverine had her she wouldn’t stay in a singular piece for long, especially if this was revenge against me.

My hands wrapped around the armrests as the monster inside me went wild with the need to kill.

“We’ll find her in time, boss.” Franco patted my shoulder as he headed down the aisle to his colleagues.

The pessimistic part of me—or was it the realistic part—wasn’t so sure. I knew what Gerald was capable of. I’d rescued enough slaves from his stables to hear countless stories of torture and rape.

My skin crawled at the thought of Tess in his clutches. I forced myself to stop thinking about it. I shifted in the seat, hating sitting still, hating the feel of not moving, not hunting.

Hans appeared in the doorway. He wore an understated suit and cap with gold wings embroidered on the front. The moment I saw him, I demanded, “Get us airborne. I want to be in Russia yesterday.”

He nodded, his bright red hair sticking out the sides of his hat. “I have clearance to take off in fifteen minutes, sir. Our flight plan has been approved.

“We’ll be there in approximately three and a half hours.”

It was three and a half hours too long, but it would have to do.

~Tess, stay alive. You fucking stay alive, or I’ll hunt your ghost and whip you stupid for leaving me.~

The animal inside hadn’t calmed down. It wanted to gallop across the earth, sniffing, tracking, hunting the fucking bastards who’d taken Tess.

I wanted to pull out their guts with my claws and howl to the goddamn moon when I had their blood on my hands.

Sighing, I closed my eyes and tried to keep my stress level under control. But as the engines whirred and we shot down the runway, I stayed tightly wound, tense as a fucking loaded slingshot.

And I would stay that way until I found Tess.

We touched down, and two black vans met us at the flight of stairs. Half the army of guards disappeared into one while Franco and the remaining crew came with me.

Moscow was cold, but not wintry. No snow graced the cityscape, no ice layered the roads. But damn, the wind bit through my suit like daggers.

The dark evening was broken by spotlights on the airport and a huge silver moon.

I’d been to Russia more times than I could count, but I never lingered. Something about this country didn’t sit well with me.

And it wasn’t the prettiness or the quaintness that tourists were allowed to see.

No. I didn’t like Russia because the dark underbelly indulged in far too many sins—sins I’d committed and wanted to commit over and over. I could control myself only if temptation was far away.

And Russia welcomed corruptness with open arms. I’d never psychoanalyzed myself before, but I knew I was an addict for sadism, and Russia was sweet tantalization.

I wasn’t strong enough to endure such a place.

No one spoke as the van whirred down semi-vacant streets. Slipping beneath the moon, coasting through streetlights, and past cute little store-fronts.

The closer we got to the kingdom of Gerald Dubolazov, the more the atmosphere in the van thickened until every breath tasted of anticipation and hunger for blood.

We morphed from businessmen to savage hunters, and I never wanted to tame myself again.

We weren’t on our way to sign paperwork and indulge in mindless chitchat. We were going to war on behalf of a woman I was falling for.

A woman who would be the catalyst for my business crumbling and my fortune draining away. But I would give it all away in a second if I could have her back intact.

The beast inside snarled and ripped holes in my soul. The darkness billowed, and I no longer had the strength to fight it. I would never fully repress it again. But I didn’t care.

I liked acknowledging this part of myself. I loved being free for the first time in my life.

Even running on no sleep, barely any food or water, I revved on a higher plane. I was strong enough to find Tess, but only if I embraced the monster inside me.

Consequences would come later.

The van swung around the last corner, tires squealing. “This one, boss?” one of Franco’s men asked, slowing down to pull into an alley. Beside us rose a huge majestic hotel.

Designed in typical Russian beauty, it stood out like a ruby glinting in the night. Red accents on windowsills and plasterwork looked as good as the day it was painted.

The pale pink turrets looked like a cupcake, iced by some fucking fairy.

I was proud of this project but wanted to tear it the fuck down with my bare hands until nothing remained. And I would if Gerald had hurt Tess. I’d blow it up, with him inside.

“Yes,” I said, glaring out the window, looking for onlookers.

No one walked past the alley, no one disturbed us. “Let’s go,” I muttered, twisting in my seat to face Franco. He was already prepared, leaning forward, tension palpable in his tight muscles.

The moment his eyes met mine, he placed a semi-automatic into my awaiting palm and snapped a radio watch onto my wrist.

“Frequency is set, all you have to do is speak into it, and the team will hear you.” All business, he pushed a few extra clips into my blazer breast pocket and fumbled in the black canvas bag beside him for a wicked sharp hunting knife.

“You have enough rounds to kill most of the staff inside, so you should be covered, but keep the knife on you, just in case.”

I took the handle, running a thumb over the sharp blade. A strange haze came over me, removing me from the van, hurtling me into darkness.

Franco knew my aversion to carrying a knife into a tense altercation. Guns kept me human—impersonal, remote from taking a life. But a knife? A knife spoke to the beast.

It made my mouth water at the thought of slipping the blade between an enemy’s ribcage and piercing their heart.

To be so up close and personal, to feel their last breath, knowing I stole it from them. It made me fucking hard and twisted my brain into something monstrous.

The temptation was exquisite, filling my mind with ruthless power. My hands shook with the need to gut Gerald the Wolverine. If I took this there would be no turning back.

I would be admitting that Tess was gone, and I was sacrificing not just my livelihood and countless of freed slaves, but my sanity, too.

I’d fought my battle for twenty-eight long years. Exhausted myself into believing I could be just a man—a human without the savagery of a monster. If I let myself slip now, it was all over.

~You have no choice. Embrace the black, recognize the truth.~

Gritting my teeth, I tucked the knife into the back of my waistband. The moment it was out of my grip, I breathed normally again.

“You know what I want.” My voice didn’t resemble a man anymore.

I might as well pretend I never was one. I was nothing more than a creature with the urge to bathe in his enemy’s blood.

I’d never felt such baser needs or the compulsion to stab and mutilate so keenly.

Franco nodded. “I know what to do. Don’t worry, we’ve got your back, and we’ll make sure your exit is clear…” His eyes darted away before settling back on mine.

“Look, if anything does go wrong, there’s a man called—”

I held up my hand, cutting him off. “I don’t want to know. Nothing will go wrong. ~T’as compris~?” Understand?

Franco gave me a tight smile. “Of course, but...” He snapped his lips closed. Avoiding my eyes, he passed a Glock to Frederick along with a matching knife.

“I know you probably won’t use these, but it’s best to be armed.”

Frederick grimaced. “I’ve managed to work with Q for years and kept my hands clean. But I’m not squeamish if I have to.”

Franco smiled, but his body language frustrated the fuck out of me. He had something on his mind, and if he didn’t spit it out who knew if he’d be compromised.

My eyes narrowed. “Speak, Franco. What the fuck do you want to say?”

He glared, before looking away briefly. “I’m just worried that we’re walking into a building full of murderers and drug dealers and Tess might not be there.

“What’s the next step?” He dropped his voice so only I heard it. “Sir, what if she’s run… What if others have her?”

The memory of Lefebvre rutting between Tess’s legs collided through my mind. Would I never be free of that fucking image?

The hatred for myself for hurting Tess so much she ran into the clutches of a rapist hammered me into the ground.

I clenched my fingers so hard, I pressed the trigger on the gun. Luckily for everyone in the van, the safety was on.

“They won’t give her an opportunity to run. She’ll be there.” ~She has to be~. Otherwise, I didn’t know where the fuck to look, and that terrified the shit out of me.

Franco nodded. “Fair enough. You know this cocksucker better than I do.” He straightened. “Let’s get this ball of fun on the road, shall we?”

I nodded and slid open the door. Franco spoke to his men. “Alpha squadron with me. Beta team you’re with Dean, and Charlie outfit you’re with Vincent. Everyone, you have your orders.

“Follow them meticulously if you want to stay alive.”

Frederick climbed out to stand next to me as Franco’s clones disembarked the van. They moved like a legion of shadows, armed to the fucking teeth and dying to bloody their weapons.

No one spoke as Franco took the lead. With a few finger codes from him, we fell into formation. Half the team melted into darkness as if they evaporated into the night.

The other half plastered themselves against the rich architecture of the Wolverine’s hotel. The same hotel I owned shares in, arranged permits and consents for.

The same hotel that gave me two slaves as bribes.

I prided myself on remembering every girl’s name, linked in my mind to the building or acquisition that allowed me to save them.

Sophie and Carmen were collateral for this particular building. Polish, and English, both beaten within an inch of their life, both forever unable to walk properly with what was done to them.

The familiar rage compounded on top of the already black blood in my veins. I pitied anyone who was my enemy—I would have a tally of deaths after tonight.

I wanted to drive a wrecking ball through every floor and crush the hotel to rubble. Fucking Russian bastard.

Within a matter of milliseconds, Franco’s team spread out and camouflaged into the night, leaving Frederick and me to stroll casually the rest of the way.

The small semi-automatic weighed down my blazer’s inside pocket, and the knife pricked the top of my ass every time I stepped.

Every movement felt different: smoother, sleeker. I no longer owned my body—the beast inside did.

“Try and pretend you’re still human, man. You’re freaking me out, and I know you won’t hurt me.”

I shot a look at Frederick, who’d hidden the Glock in his suit and smoothed his gelled hair, so he looked presentable.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I growled.

“Course you don’t. But I’m telling you, lighten up, try and think of pleasant things. Your eyes are positively savage.”

Words were delays, and I wanted none of it. Glowering, I strode forward and headed toward the main entrance. The street held a couple climbing into a taxi, their luggage littered around the curb.

The doorman gave us a curt nod as we walked in. My back stayed ramrod straight thanks to the knife down my pants, and my hands ached to clench into fists and start tearing up the place to find Tess.

~She has to be here. She has to be.~

The lobby looked like the Renaissance period threw up on it. Scrolls and gold leaf, pretentious and ostentatious.

Trying to act normal, I eyeballed the concierge. I didn’t pay any attention to the private alcoves or carefully arranged seating nooks, nor did I listen to the gentle notes of a piano playing.

I focused entirely on the man who would be my first victim if he didn’t take me to Gerald.

I demanded, “I’m here to see your boss. And before you ask if I have a fucking appointment, I don’t, and I don’t need one. Mention my name. He’ll see me.”

The elderly concierge looked down his nose, peering over half-moon glasses. “I know who you are. And he said to let you up when you arrived.”

I didn’t register shock. That would be a weakness; I was anything but weak in that moment. I was ready.

“Lead the way,” I clipped.

The man handed me a keycard and pointed at the elevator reserved for the penthouse floor. “Be my guest.

“I’ve been told not to disturb your meeting.” He gave me a sneer and my fingers twitched to punch him.

Frederick came to the man’s rescue by tugging my arm. “Great. We’ll head up.” He plucked the keycard from my grip, hauling me to the lift.

“Wait till we’re behind closed doors before you go berserk, Q.”

I jerked my head in some sort of acknowledgement and followed him into the elevator. The doors began to close, and Franco appeared from nowhere, jumping in beside us.

“All clear as far as we can tell. I’m guessing he has his penthouse fortified. I recommend we wait till Alpha squadron can catch up.”

They were lucky I wasn’t scaling the fucking building with my bare hands. Wait longer? No fucking way.

I didn’t bother answering as the lift soared upward. I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out the gun.

Frederick eyed me warily, but then followed suit. Franco pulled two guns from his holster beneath his jacket.

We nodded at each other then stared at the doors, waiting for the moment when they would open.

The three clicks of safeties being taken off helped mollify me for a moment.

~Not long. Hold on, Tess.~

The gentle ping of arrival sent every muscle in my body vibrating with tension. I was coiled, armed, and fucking ready to create some carnage.

The doors glided open. We crouched and moved forward.

“I expected you twenty-four hours ago, Mercer. You’re losing your touch.” Gerald chuckled the moment we stepped into the lounge.

I froze, battling back the urge to let loose the entire round of bullets into him.

The penthouse was five hundred square feet of pure decadence.

Not only had I designed the hotel suite’s floor plan, but hired an interior designer who knew the value of great lighting, subtle wall tones, and elaborate wallpaper.

It was a perfect palace, sullied by the fucking gutter rat who lived there.

Gerald sat in a large weathered chair, nursing a goblet of liquor. His prosthetic leg cocked to the side awkwardly from a former gunshot, courtesy of a disgruntled business associate.

His pink scalp and wispy blond hair didn’t do anything to help his gob for a face, or the nasty scars on his cheeks.

His nose was red and large, identifying him as a drunkard, and his large gut strained in the ridiculous paisley shirt.

It made him look watery-eyed and almost ready for the grave, but regardless of his sickly appearance, his control over his empire was legendary.

“Where the fuck is she?” I snarled.

His son appeared. My heart thudded with thick hatred and I wanted to shoot him all over again.

He wore an exact replica of the jumpsuit he’d worn when he hurt Tess, only this one was a horrifying yellow.

His gold-capped teeth looked garish when he smiled and waved a wooden cane in my direction in a salute.

“I never got a chance to thank you for the goodbye gift, cocksucker. Your dog over there dragged me out before I could repay the favor.” He pointed at Franco.

“You’ll pay for kicking me when I was fuckin’ shot. Only way you could get one over me. If my leg hadn’t been gushin’ blood, I would’ve had you dead in a moment.”

Franco snorted. “Didn’t sound so tough when you fucking pissed yourself after I slapped you.” He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “How about I slap you again and you can cry to Daddy?”

I swallowed hard, tasting the threat, the underlying violence in the room.

The man launched forward, and I didn’t give Franco a chance to deliver his promise. He deserved more than a fucking slap. My fist collided with his jaw, cracking in the silent room.

The throb started in my knuckles and radiated up my arm, but for the first time in days, I felt like things were finally going my way.

“Come near us again and I’ll not only cripple you like your old man, I’ll redecorate your insides.”

“Enough!” Gerald demanded, throwing the goblet at my head.

I ducked, encroaching on his space. “Tell me where she is. ~Je ne le redemanderais pas~.” I won’t ask again.

Gerald laughed, his big gut jiggling with every guffaw. “Why the hell would I know?” His eyes went from mirthful to hate-filled in a second.

His entire body settled heavier in the chair as he glared at me from beneath his overhanging brow. “You shot my only son for sampling the present we gave you. Not exactly hospitable behavior.”

My jaw ached—I clenched so hard, but I didn’t move; I didn’t speak. I let him get on with his little fucking speech. The sooner he finished, the sooner I could get my hands on Tess.

“I had planned on using her myself—after all, the great fucking Q Mercer kept her as a pet, there must be something special about her cunt to warrant such a prize.”

I flinched and gripped the gun harder, imagining it was his fat-riddled neck I wrung.

“However, a better deal came along than fucking your sloppy seconds.”

My legs spasmed, dying to rush the bastard and slash the knife into his throat. My voice echoed with hatred. “Stop wasting my time.” I aimed the gun at his crotch. “Where is she, Dubolazov?”

Gerald laughed and wheezed, before answering. “That, my pussy-whipped friend, is no longer your concern. I like keeping secrets.

“Consider this my notice that I will no longer do business with you.” He looked at his oaf of a son, huddled by the wall, nursing his bruised face.

“After all, I can’t deal with a man who severely injured my own, can I?”

Something slithered over me. Something cold and sinister and normally I would fight.

I would stop the shutting down of my emotions and the remainder of humanity receding like a wakeless tide, but I didn’t. I let the conversion happen, and the gun grew heavy in my hands.

Did he honestly think I wouldn’t kill him if he had nothing to offer me?

Dubolazov seemed to track my line of thought as he swallowed, a trace of fear ringing his eyes. “You can’t kill me. It would be business suicide.

“You so much as look at myself or my son again and I’ll crucify you.”

I shrugged. I honestly didn’t care. All I cared about was finding Tess and giving her the best life I could.

Shuffling sounded behind me and Franco yelled, “Stay right fucking there. Just having a conversation, boys. No need to get your cocks out.”

I looked over my shoulder at the three guards who’d arrived, all waving guns, trying to decide who to train their sights on.

Deciding I was the greatest threat, they pointed the muzzles in my direction, even as Franco and Frederick trained theirs on them.

Raising an eyebrow, I held up my gun, letting it dangle from my finger. “All good. Just finishing up our little chat, then we’ll go.”

No one moved as I placed the gun on a side table and inched forward.

Gerald glared, but didn’t order the men to kill me.

I stopped within grabbing distance and gave him a thin smile. “So, you mean to take your secret to your grave, Dubolazov?”

One chance.

One last chance to give me Tess’s location. Then I’d grant mercy. I would walk away. I would cage the demon inside me and not fucking maim him.

He leaned forward, sending a whiff of vodka into my face. “I’ll never tell a fucking prick like you. You pretend to be one of us, but you free merchandise.

“Slaves we’ve dedicated time to break, women who, by right, belong to us until their godforsaken little pussies wear out. Fuck you, Mercer. We’re done here.” He lowered his voice to a hiss.

“I hope she’s dead already.”

The switch inside sprung permanently free, and I moved.

Time slowed as I reached for the knife in my trousers.

I existed in slow motion as the blade came free, my arm swung forward, and the obstruction of gristle and windpipe gave way under the sharp metal.

The thrill, the rush, the heady fucking pleasure rippled through me and I smiled. I fucking smiled as I watched Gerald blink in shock, wondering what the hell happened.

I moved so fast, it took a moment for blood to well and cascade down his throat.

“No!” Gerald’s son threw himself off the wall, colliding with me.

Gunshots rang out and something hot nicked my arm. Franco called out, and Frederick yelled. Gerald’s son punched me in the ribs, but his meaty hands were no match for my blade.

I stabbed him deep in the kidney and twisted.

I waited for horror, for self-hatred of loving the hot splash of blood and the dying gurgle of my victim, but for once I was free.

The rush and fire and righteousness doused my veins—I shuddered with black delight.

Murder.

It was fast becoming a new hobby of mine.

I stood, pushing the convulsing body off me, drenched in hot blood. I honored Tess’s wish to bring down the bastards involved with trafficking.

I killed a father and son.

I killed…

And the beast inside fucking loved it.

The memory of taking my father’s life filled my nostrils. The stench of his bowels loosening, the sharp tang of blood and brain.

It all mixed in some sort of morbid perfume, resonating with the feral part of me, making me proud to be a killer of evil.

Slowly sensation came back into my body. My arm burned. Twisting my neck, I fingered the hole in my blazer, poking the slippery wound beneath. Fucking fantastic.

I’d been shot.

Frederick appeared, reaching for my jacket. “Oh, shit. How bad is it?” He ripped off my jacket before I had a chance to push him away.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.” The bullet had gone right through my bicep. Fairly clean and tidy considering. It didn’t even hurt.

I looked toward the entrance where a mound of corpses lay. Puddles of blood dotted the white tiles.

Franco met my eyes. “Five dead. Four shots and one stabbing.” He motioned for us to leave. “We have to go. Who knows how many more guards are on their way.”

I shook my head, feeling strangely lightheaded.

“We’re not leaving until we search the place.” Scooping up the gun and clenching my jaw against the sudden flash of pain in my arm, I took off in the direction of the bedrooms. “Fan out.”

“Meet back in here in ten minutes.”

Picking up my pace, I jogged quickly down the long expanse of corridor, trying to ignore the chills of eerie silence and the mound of bodies behind us.

Gerald normally only had three to five guards in his private residence. He said they cramped his style when I asked a few years back why he didn’t surround himself in security. We were alone. For now.

I just hoped we’d stay alone for a bit longer.

Keeping my finger tight on the trigger, I swept room after room. I strode through decadent parlors and bedrooms fit for a prim aristocrat, not a raping, murdering mobster.

But I only found emptiness. No women. No Tess.

I opened cupboards, searched under beds, even smashed a few floorboards to see if a secret room had been added since the original blueprints. But nowhere did I find a bound and frightened woman.

No evidence of a struggle. No trace of Tess at all.

After a full circuit of the apartment, I met Franco and Frederick by the elevator. “Anything?” Three pairs of eyes were better than one. Especially seeing as I’d been fucking shot.

~Please let them have found something.~

Frederick hung his head. “Nothing.” He sighed, adding, “But it doesn’t mean she isn’t in the building.”

I had a better idea. Pulling out my phone, I entered the same website that tracked Tess the first time and waited for the little red dot to appear on the map.

Nothing.

Heart racing, I tapped the device against my thigh. “~Viendra sur, toi merde.~ Come on, you piece of shit.

I looked again, wishing, praying for the little red dot to show me where Tess was. It was the only connection I had to her. It had to work. It had to.

Franco looked over my shoulder as the screen flashed and came up with an error message. ~The tracking device you have requested is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.~

“Fuck!” I threw the phone across the room, trembling with rage. My eyes fell to the bodies, and I wanted nothing more than to stab and stab and stab, take out retribution and funnel my rage.

Frederick put his hand on my uninjured arm. “We’ll find her, man. Don’t worry. With or without a beacon.”

Franco nodded. “He’s right. We’ll find her, sir. We’ll just have to mow down some bastards to do it.”