Chapter 36

Chapter

Thirty-Six

LAINEY

H is grip on my neck bit into the flesh painfully. Dread scraped through me as I fought to steady my breathing. The sounds of sporadic gunfire added to the pandemonium. I was still staring at Bodhi as he vanished into a swarm of balaclava-wearing assailants. The need to rush to him burned in my veins, but Vedri?' grip was far too tight.

Darkness plunged down again and Vedri? yanked me backwards. I was torn between digging my heels in and fighting or cooperating, for now, until a better opportunity presented itself. As it was, I couldn't see where we were going.

Blue lights came on then cut off abruptly. At this point, whatever they'd done to the light board was just adding to the confusion.

"Keep moving," Vedri? ordered. I wasn't entirely sure what was more painful, the gun pressed against my spine or the way his fingernails dug into my neck. Still, I continued to move obediently.

While I didn't quite drag my feet, I also didn't hurry. It was dark and I didn't plan on disappearing out into Prague somewhere. I also didn't want Vedri? shooting anyone. If we could get to a little more private area?—

"Faster," he hissed the command and pain from his grip digging into my neck had me gritting my teeth. Now he was dragging me backward. I tried to track where we were going as the lights flashed on, then off, then on. The strobing effect just added to the horror movie flavor of it all.

We were backing down a narrow little hall that I hadn't seen, it cut away at an angle. A door swung open behind us and I wanted to turn, but Vedri? didn't give me the opportunity.

Then we were on a set of stairs. He didn't make any pretense of dragging me down them. The lights down here were steadier and I barely got my head up in time to see the door to the theater close with a kind of ominous finality.

My stomach dropped.

Fantastic.

"I don't know what your specific plan is Mr. Vedri?, but you should know—it's not going to end the way you think."

"Arrogant American bitch," he muttered, hauling me around as the base of the stairs. If not for his grip, I probably would have gone sprawling. As it was, I was off balance, but it didn't seem to bother him at all.

Using my neck like a handhold, he yanked me to my feet and then marched me down the stone tunnel. He moved swiftly and I was half-running to keep to his pace. The route curved and continued away.

Tunnels. Catacombs beneath the city? Or just the theater? Even as I tried to map it, I suddenly understood how they got in. The arrival of so many men invading the theater from the back as well as the audience made sense. The Vandals had everything else covered, but they didn't know about these.

This was going too fast. How long before we were too far away from the theater? "Mr. Vedri?, name calling really isn't going to do you any favors either."

He hauled me back against him, the sting of his nails cutting into my skin abrasive. Lips next to my ear, he growled, "Shut. Up. You have caused me enough problems."

The heavy stench of onions and garlic threatened to smother me. "You need a new chef." The last comment really aggravated him and he shoved me forward, releasing me abruptly. Probably hoping to slam me into a wall, but I caught myself with my hands and spun around to face him.

It put me eye to eye with his gun. Not ideal, but we were also not moving farther away anymore. I lifted my gaze to focus on the man behind the gun. LED lights seemed to run along the ceiling and the floor level, illuminating the way. The light was faint, but it didn't need to be bright to let us see.

Did they use this often? Was this how they hauled people in and out without others being aware? A problem to solve another day. I studied the man with his silver hair, neatly brushed until the ends seemed to feather against his shoulders. He was dressed in a fine suit, though the tie was pulled loose and his shirt disheveled. Sweat dotted his face and there were heavy shadows beneath his eyes.

"You don't look well."

"You stupid little bitch with your stupid little comments as though the whole world is here to serve you."

"Not the whole world," I said easily enough. There was a musty smell down here, dampness and dust. "Just the morons who can't elevate themselves above it or are smart enough to avoid it."

It was a kind of arrogant attitude I'd heard from my mother more than once. There were our people and then everyone else. As disgusting as the sentiment was, baiting Vedri? with it had his mouth compressing into a hard line and his eyes narrowing.

His hand also shook.

Just the slightest bit.

Drug abuse?

Alcohol?

Stress?

So many potential causes.

"Are you blind to the gun I have on you?" Spittle flew from his lips. He really was a mess. "Walk."

"No. You have it right in my face, that's a CZ 75? I've only seen pictures of them." I focused on his face again. "If you were going to use it, you'd have already shot me. You had the drop on me from the moment you walked up in the theater. But you didn't—you threatened everyone else to get me to go with you. That means you need me. For something."

His expression transformed from fury to consternation and back to fury again. "I could just kill you right here."

I spread my hands. We were alone, in this tunnel, and far enough away Em and the others would be safe. "Then do it."

Daring him was a gamble. A huge one. But one I was willing to bet on since I didn't think he could afford to kill me. People like him didn't threaten—they just did.

I gave it to a count of sixty in my head and then I "crossed my arms" and leaned back against the wall. The race of my pulse thundered in my ears. He'd just ceded some of the power in this interaction, gun or no gun.

"So, as I was saying earlier, you want something from me. Let's hear it and see if I'm willing to deal or not."

The longer I delayed him the sooner Bodhi would find me. I had no doubt that he would. Bodhi seemed more aware of me than I was of myself. He'd seen Vedri? taking me.

I really wanted this man caught, dropped in a hole, and bury him forever.

Vedri? took two steps forward until the gun was right in my face again. It took some discipline to maintain my bland expression. The closer he got the more obvious his trembling was.

"You've cost me a small fortune."

"Hmm. Let me see, how do I feel about that?" I mused, canting my head and looking past him to the way we'd come. I couldn't really see that far, the turns in the tunnel just made it a blind curve. Taking my attention off him was a risk, but he shifted a step then glanced back to see what had my attention.

I unzipped the side pocket of my purse.

"Hmm, not remotely troubled by that at all. In fact, I'm sorry I haven't cost you everything. I do like to be thorough." I pulled his eyes back to me.

"You're not funny," he snapped. His accent grew more pronounced with his agitation. The rather suave, bland Eastern European turned almost distinctly German for a moment.

Interesting.

"I never said I was." I could brush the cool metal of my baton with my thumb. It would take a moment to pull out, so I'd have to choose that moment carefully. Raising my free hand, I snapped my fingers. "Can we get on with this? I have plans."

"You took the children."

"Yes, I did. Never going to apologize for it. Just because you're a sick perverted creep who makes his income on peddling flesh and kids, doesn't mean you're owed anything but maybe a .50 cal to the groin."

"You took the children. Three of them are already under contract. One is worth several million. I want her back."

"Let me see, how do I put this?" Free hand up, I ticked off the words to engage his attention. "Too. Fucking. Bad."

He shifted his grip ever so slightly and jerked the gun back like he was going to swing it at me. Yeah, that would hurt if he connected, but I closed my hand around the baton.

"You had no right to take her. To take any of them."

"Actually, that's where you're wrong. I had every right. She's my sister. I'll die before I let you anywhere near her again."

He barked out an unfriendly laugh. "You are going to die," he said, scorn salting every word. "Americans always mess everything up. You shouldn't have taken what belongs to me. Now call and have her brought here."

"Nope." He could shoot me. I hadn't stuttered when I said I'd die before I let him have Andrea. Period.

He charged forward, waving that gun. Pointed at me.

Away.

At me.

Away.

At me.

Away—I yanked out the baton, snapped it to full length and struck his wrist with all the force I could muster. He let out a roar of pain, the gun went off. A bullet slammed into the stone, ricocheted and then hit the stone closer to both of us and sending out shards of dust and rock. It also sent the gun skittering down the tunnel.

Win.

He reared back with his fist, but I jabbed forward, driving the baton into the soft flesh below his arm. He grunted, grappling with it. But I had the leverage and I shifted my stance to use his weight and when he jerked, I rolled him around me and ran him into the wall.

The grunt he let out wasn't pained enough for me. Swinging my baton, I slammed it against his lower back, right over a kidney. But he was faster than I expected, and his fist caught my cheekbone.

Pain exploded through my face and I staggered, slipping on the smooth stone. I was fighting for my balance when Vedri? dove to the side and grabbed his gun. I had nowhere to go.

A gunshot ripped through the tunnel. The loud report echoing against the stone and threatening to deafen me. Skidding onto my knee, I braced for more pain, but nothing happened. Lifting my chin, I stared at Vedri? who looked stunned himself.

A dark stain spread over his shoulder. The hand that had been holding the gun had already released it as his arm just hung there. The click of heels on the stone made me look.

Margareta Waldemar stepped out of the shadows, coming from ahead of us, like some kind of silver-crowned avenging angel. She held a gun with the kind of familiarity that served as a testament to her shooting Vedri?.

"Thank you," I said, trying to catch my breath. The trembling in my hands told me the adrenaline rioting through my system was going to lead to a hell of a crash.

She didn't say a word to me as she continued her approach. When she was next to me, she held out her free hand. I accepted it and let her help me to her feet.

"You're welcome," she said, her accent more pronounced than I'd ever heard it. But her attention wasn't on me, it was on Vedri?. She shook her head slowly. "Jürgen."

The name was different, but the disappointment in her voice made my heart hurt. "You know him?" It came out a little jerkier than I meant, but it was clear.

"Mama," Vedri? said, wheezing a laugh that held no humor.

Mama.

I blinked. Wait… "You said he died."

"I thought he died," Margareta said and the profoundness of her disturbance echoed beneath each word. "You had them tell me that. You played dead so I wouldn't look for you."

The anger grew with every additional syllable.

"You would not approve. You and Papa. He never listened, you didn't say anything when he threw me away. So why should I care if you knew I was alive or not?"

"Because I am your mother and I would have protected you."

"Clearly," Vedri? said on a harsh exhale. "That's why I'm bleeding right now." Despite the blood soaking his clothes, he was still moving toward the gun.

"You're bleeding right now because you were about to kill my granddaughter."

Granddaughter.

My head spun. What?

Vedri? laughed. It was an ugly, harsh sound. "Did you adopt another child?"

"No," she said. "This is Elaine Benedict—the daughter of Melissa Benedict."

The man sobered.

"Andrea is her daughter…"

"Her second daughter. The child she had with Harper Reed."

He snapped his gaze to me.

"Wait…I was told my father's name was Yuri Leistung."

"Yuri—it's a name he chose for himself when he was a boy and he wanted to pretend he was someone else. Leistung was my mother's family name before she married my father." Margareta focused on him again. While her gun never wavered, she didn't close the distance. "I knew Lainey was your child from the moment I first saw her. But I had no idea what she knew…or how it worked out."

"So—she is Melissa's bastard," Vedris or Leistung or whatever his name was said. "I have no need for a bastard child. Especially not one as weak as a woman."

"You steal children?" Margareta ignored his statement and switched the topic. "You peddle in the flesh of children?"

"Papa did worse. What do you care? You think I don't know about your pet Dimitri or how you have kept a hand on Papa's empire?" He coughed, putting his free hand up to his bloody shoulder. It was a cover, he eased to the right more. "Why should I care how you judge me? Your jewels and furs and art collection—someone's soul paid for it."

"Answer my question, Jürgen? Are you a flesh peddler? Do you deal in the misery of children?" Ice cold anger crackled between the words.

"I am a wealthy man with needs and clients. They are no one. Pets. Disposable. Replaceable." He coughed, gripping his wounded shoulder as he tried to stand. "Even the little cunt there. She would bring a decent price, might even be worth the trouble she's caused me."

Margareta stared at him.

"Disappointed, Mama?"

She tilted her head, her expression solemn. "I've already mourned you."

"Wha—"

She shot him and the boom of sound shocked the shit out of me.

A second shot.

Finally a third.

She shot him twice in the chest. The third shot went between his eyes.

I stared at his body and then I looked at Margareta. She'd lowered the gun, but she hadn't put it away.

Running feet echoed down the tunnel resolving into Bodhi as he skidded around the corner. Blood marred his face and his hands and soaked into his shirt. But I'd never seen a more beautiful sight. His gaze went to me and then past me to where Jürgen or whatever his name was lay dead and bleeding in the empty tunnel.

Freddie was just there and Liam. Kellan also appeared from the other direction. Had they followed Margareta? Maybe it should have surprised me, but Dimitri strolled up to join us.

"I'm going to check his pulse," Bodhi said, putting a hand on my arm as he stepped between me and Margareta. He swept me from head to toe, and his eyes narrowed when he looked at my face.

"I'm alright," I promised him, even if the shaking was already beginning to hit.

He nodded once, then went to the body. Two fingers on a pulse point.

The quiet was unnerving. We were all waiting for the verdict.

"Dead," he said, standing. "Pity, I'd rather have skinned him."

"That's a new one," Freddie said. "Takes a while, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Bodhi commented, his gaze fixing on me. "A long while."

"Dimitri."

"Madam?"

"Take care of the body. Burn it. Bury it with the garbage."

He nodded once and held out his hand. "Gun?"

She passed it to him. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." He nodded to me and then whistled. More men appeared, some from the direction of the theater and more from where Margareta had come from. The empty silence of the tunnel hummed with sound. They moved swiftly to take custody of the body.

Almost too fast. I watched the body disappear. My father? Or at least the biological contributor, died on the same day I discovered him. I was having a hard time feeling bad about that. What had my mother said about him?

He's a terrible man. Stay away.

When Bodhi held out a hand to me, I clasped his and then he carefully took the baton that I still held in a death grip. My fingers and palm were numb from holding it so tightly.

The shaking hit in earnest then and Bodhi stripped off his jacket and wrapped it around me before he pulled me close. Eyes closed, I held on and just breathed him in. The copper scent mixed with his sweat and the faintest hint of the aftershave he'd used earlier.

The world faded away as I fought the reaction. Then the two-beat click of heels on stone hit me and I lifted my head.

"Margareta…"

The woman was walking away. Not toward the theater, but back the way she'd arrived from. Had she told the others about the tunnels? I had so many questions.

She paused and turned back to look at me. Elegant from her styled updo to her beautiful gauzy lavender dress. "You need time, Lainey. Time to recover from the shock and to look after your sister."

"But…"

"I'm not going away, but I am going to give you time."

"You knew I was your grandchild?" It wasn't my only question but it was one of the loudest.

"Yes. When I saw you at that first charity event. You arrived with your grandfather, a powerful, poised young woman with a gambler's eyes and the soul of a warrior. I knew exactly who you were, but I didn't know what you knew. It took time to learn that no one knew who your father was."

She gave a sad smile.

"No one will now and that is as it should be." She took a breath and straightened. "I was going to watch the show tonight. I've heard wonderful things about Mrs. O'Connell, but I think I will retire for the evening."

"Thank you," I said. It seemed so damn weak for what she'd just done. She'd killed her son for me.

To save me.

She was my grandmother…

"I will always protect my family," she said. "How did Mr. Cavendish put it? I will always protect you and what is yours." Another sad smile that twisted my heart. "I'll send word when we're both back in New York. Maybe we can have lunch."

"I'd like that."

"So would I." Then she turned and bypassed Kellan and Freddie, before disappearing with Dimitri and his men, leaving me wrapped up in Bodhi with the Vandals around. Eventually, they peeled off one at a time to go back into the theater.

"You really alright?" Bodhi asked me, his arms keeping me firmly grounded.

"No," I whispered. "But I will be."

We'd won.

Despite the enormous cost of it all, we'd won. My face hurt and so did my heart, but I had my grandfather, my sister, my lovers, their families and now… I had a new grandmother.

No, I wasn't alright, but I definitely would be.

We. Won.