Chapter Two

Magnus

"What do you mean you let her go?"

I faced my father's anger without flinching. Or, rather, worked so that my feelings didn't show on my expression. Not a patient or nice man, my father demanded perfection, loyalty, and obedience, not necessarily in that order. I once vowed to never be like him, but each and every day he molded me into becoming his mini me.

Sometimes I hated him.

"Just why the fuck didn't you grab her?" Arnaud, my esteemed sire, yelled into my face. "You do what the fuck I tell you to do, boy."

"It's not right to kidnap her because you don't like her, Dad," I replied evenly. "It's a crime if you hadn't noticed."

Arnaud snorted. "Just who can put us in jail, eh? I have more power and influence in this city than you'll ever imagine. I pay cops, prosecutors, and judges to do what I want. Why is it so hard for you?"

"Maybe because I have a conscience?"

"Fuck your conscience," he sneered. "I didn't raise you to have one. Get rid of it. Now. You work for me. And that means if I say you kidnap a girl, you kidnap a girl."

I fought to control my anger, my hate, my genes that ordered me to obey him. He wasn't just my father, he was my clan leader, my liege lord in many respects. One didn't tell one's lord to fuck off. Not if one wanted to live another day.

Especially in my clan.

"She's innocent."

Arnaud laughed. "I should care why? Her father owes me. If he wants her back, he'll jump through my hoops, all right."

"Just where do you plan to keep her?" I kept my tone level with an effort. "She's as dangerous as her dad."

"In one of my warehouses," he answered, walking away from me to pour himself a scotch. "I've built a cage that'll hold her, down in the cellar. Way down. Fireproof, soundproof. She can't escape, no will hear her if she bellows."

We stood in his opulent study deep in the heart of his mansion. I didn't grow up here. Arnaud accumulated his wealth by fair means and foul, bought it, as well as much real estate in this city as he could. Even as he sat back and waited for the market to rise, he dabbled in buying and selling illegal drugs, running guns to Mexico and their mobs, trafficking in humans from other countries.

I think I hated him for that most of all.

"What is it her father owes you?" I asked, expecting a violent none of your business or no answer at all.

Arnaud flopped his heavy body onto a luxurious sofa, almost spilling his scotch, and sighed. "Many years ago, he and I were partners. Close as brothers, almost. He bought a tract of land outside of our partnership, never told me, then built condominiums on it. They sold like hotcakes. He made millions off that one deal."

I sat gingerly on the edge of a chair, gingerly in case I had to move fast. "Why would that bother you?'

Arnaud glowered, his full jowls jiggling. "We were partners , dammit. We had an agreement. He went behind my back. When I confronted him, he just laughed. Said I was too emotional, that business was business."

"And then?"

"I broke off our friendship." Arnaud sipped his whiskey. "Ended our partnership. Watched as he flourished, making friends with the governors of the surrounding states, growing his empire, while I lagged behind, needed to run drugs and guns to stay in business."

Let's not forget people, dear old Dad.

"So why now?" I persisted. "Why after all these years?"

"Because now I have leverage." He chuckled into his drink. "His precious daughter. To get her back, he'll sign the deeds of over half his empire to me or listen to her scream when I send him the tapes."

"Of – you torturing her?" I felt my stomach perform a slow roll and felt glad he hadn't offered me a drink.

"And you." His tiny eyes, buried in rolls of flesh, speared me through. "It's time you took up your duties as my lieutenant, Magnus. My right hand. It's what I raised you to be."

Not a son. A lieutenant. What a fucking mess. I can't torture that girl. If I do, he'll kill me. I'll be tortured in her place.

"Ah, right. Of course."

"When can I expect the girl?"

"Uh, probably later in the week," I answered, frantic to find any means possible to delay this shit. "She's at the bar on Fridays. I don't know the rest of her routine."

"Learn it," Arnaud snapped. "Bring her to me by next Friday night."

I lowered my eyes, as he'd expect it. "Yes. Okay."

Shit and hellfire, now what? Deliver an innocent victim to my dear old dad's torments? Or face them myself?

Arnaud ruled his empire with not just an iron fist, but with a whip in it. He didn't always kill, for that was wasteful. No. He offered obedience with one hand, the whip in the other. And yeah, I've tasted that whip. Not a fun experience at all.

Nor could I break free of him and find my own way in the world. His whip ensured that.

Arnaud waved his hand. "Go. Get out of here. And keep your deadline in mind."

I caught the significance of his dark glance and nodded. "I will."

***

"I can't do this."

Brody and I sat in the bleachers of a residential park, watching a Little League game in progress. The Little Leaguers ran around the bases as their parents cheered, the coaches yelled, the refs blew their whistles. My elbows on my knees, I wondered at the innocence of these kids, how they'd grow up to be doctors, lawyers, SEAL Team Six. And how I'd grown up to be a bad man's lieutenant.

Brody grunted. "You can't kidnap her, man. That's just wrong."

"I have to. He'll kill me if I don't."

His fierce stare forced me to look at him. "If he kills you, at least you'd have your soul," he said, his voice low. "You do this, then you've sold it to your old man."

I gazed down at my hands. "I know."

"There has to be a way you can get free of him. He's not omnipotent."

I barked a harsh laugh. "You think so? Actually, he is. If I ran, he'd have his henchmen on me before I got to the next state. I can't fly far enough to get away from him."

"I'll help you."

I gazed at my best friend, my only friend, and the only one in this crazy world who understood me. We'd be partners in bed if we swung that way. We didn't. So we settled for being best pals.

"I can't let you," I said at last. "I won't risk your life, man. Arnaud will hang your hide on his wall and make me stare at it day in and day out."

He snorted. "I'm no pushover, bro. You shouldn't be either. There has to be a way to bring him down."

"If there is, I don't know of it."

"Every king has a weakness." Brody stared out over the field, watching the kids play. "We'll find his. And exploit the hell out of it."

"With judges on his payroll? Not likely."

Oddly, Brody laughed. "And crooked judges can't be forced straight? Find a lever there, push the fuck out of it, and watch your old man circle the drain."

I rubbed my chin, thinking. "But how do we find what lever to push?"

"Records, bro. Your old man has to keep records of all his illicit transactions, you know what I mean? Pictures of a judge with his pants down, get my drift?"

"Holy shit." I stared at the kids without seeing them. "He's blackmailing them?"

"Some, sure. The rest he pays. Even then, a record of underhanded payments can get a judge kicked off the bench."

My chin on my fist, I thought. "That must be the same for cops and lawyers."

"Yep. Pay a prosecutor to ‘lose' evidence, or even declare it's not enough evidence. With enough cops to back them up, no one can question it."

"Holy shit."

"And I'm sure there are records of those transactions, too." Brody grinned and clapped me on my shoulder. "You've work to do, bro."

"But the chick?" My stomach lurched at the thought of what I had to do. "I have to grab her, man. By week's end."

"That's not enough time to get the goods on your pop and get him indicted." Brody mimicked my elbows on my knees posture. "Can you do it and somehow protect her?"

"I don't know. He has a place set aside, built just for her."

"Shit. He can send you off on any old errand and start skinning her for entertainment."

I scrubbed my face with my hands. "Gawd," I moaned. "Why did I have to be born to a maniac?"

For answer, Brody smacked the back of my head.

"Ow. Dammit."

"Listen here, dumb ass," he growled. "No whining, you got it? You man up, man. You do what you gotta do. Clear?"

I rubbed the back of my head. "Yeah. I got it."

"If you can't get the girl out of your old man's way, you protect her any way you can. Meanwhile, you work to bring him down. Then do it. Bring the mother fucker's world crashing down on his head."

***

Great advice. A little hard to put into action, however.

Arnaud made me report to him every day. Where was she? Where did she work? Where did she live? What were her patterns? Did she ride the bus? Drive a car? What make? What model? Did she visit her old man? If so, for how long?

I confessed all I knew about her. Should I try to fake it, Arnaud smelled a lie from a thousand yards. I dared not to fudge in my answers. Yes, I knew where she worked, but she's always surrounded by people. At home, she's behind two deadbolts and an alarm system. In between, she rode the bus.

Arnaud paced his elaborate study, his head down, his thick lips pursed. At times, I hardly believed I came from his loins. This was one of those times. He'd let the body I'd inherited go to fat, to lose any and all muscle tone. To become less than what he once was – strong, powerful, a force of such magnitude the skies wept at his coming.

Now – he had power, yes. But he no longer owned the power he needed.

"All right," he said at last. "Friday night. When she walks home from the bar. I'll get you a drug, jab her in the neck. She won't know what hit her."

"Will this shit kill her?"

He chuckled. "It'll give her one hell of a headache when she wakes up. Otherwise, it won't harm her at all."

Thus, I waited in the shadows for her to walk past me, the syringe and the needle bared and ready. Around the corner from the bar, the only time she spent alone. The only time she was vulnerable.

I knew she had something in her right pocket, I'd seen her fondle it. I didn't know what it was. Mace, maybe. A small pistol. Something I had to avoid if this was to work at all. I dared not give her the chance to use whatever weapon she possessed. A single shot of bear spray would render me helpless at her feet.

Here she comes. I pressed my body against the brick wall, a shadow among shadows. I dared not move. She had the instincts of a gazelle and would bolt at the slightest hint of danger. Spraying bear spray as she fled, and thus halting any attempt to grab her.

She strode past me, her steps slightly uneven, her head bowed.

She didn't see me.

I struck like a silent snake, thrust the needle into her neck and pressed the plunger.

The girl half-turned toward me, her mouth opened in shock, in protest, her right hand reaching for her weapon –

Then she collapsed.

I caught her before she fell.

Cradling her in my arms, I bowed my head over her still body. "I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I'll try to make it right. I swear, I'll try."