Deadly Games (33 page)

* * * *

“What do you want?” he asked Elianya, always keeping his eyes on her. One gun, one detonator. Anger pushed through him. “Isn’t it obvious?” she purred.

The 9mm Glock was a concern, but it was the detonator she held in the other hand that worried him the most. He sat in the chair across from his brother, Roth’s feet near him. He could see the pool of blood, the trickle out of the corner of his friend’s mouth.

Rage at that alone clawed through him.

His parents sat on the couch and he could see the mixture of fear and anger in their faces. His father was tapping his fingers on his knee. Mom’s hands were white knuckled. He couldn’t blame them. Darya was staring at the woman, her face pale. If he’d ever wondered, ever had any lingering doubts on whether or not Darya had met Elianya, they were now gone. As clearly as if Darya had spoken to him, her eyes and expression, both angry and terrified, glared at Elianya.

He looked back at their captor. Think. Think. There had to be a way out. There was always a way out. “Let them go.”

Elianya chuckled and leaned down the back of his chiar, her breath hot on his ear.

“Do they know who you really are?” she whispered.

His parents watched them, his father as angry as he’d ever seen him.

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“What did you give my brother?” he asked, shifting his gaze to Quinlan.

“Little of this, little of that.” Her laugh grated across his nerves. “A new Elianya creation.”

Good God. Quinlan’s head hung to his chest, and sweat dripped off his brow.

Every now and then he’d twitch. Please let him be all right. She could have given him any cocktail. Hell now his brother’s heart could be giving out and…. No! Pain hummed at the base of his skull.

Ian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Focus. Anger wouldn’t get anyone in this room out alive.

“Some do all right on my little creation and other than the headaches, Quinlan’s been doing fine.”

“How long have you been giving it to Quinlan?” he asked. How the hell long had she been working to get to him?

She laughed again. “Since the night I met him.” Again she leaned down. “Have to say, for brothers, you both do things marvelously and yet so differently.”

He closed his eyes. “How much have you given him, Elianya?”

Her heels clicked as she walked around past him. “Enough, maybe too much. I’ve given him quite a bit tonight.”

“What the hell did you give him, Elianya?”

She smiled, evil and catlike and even with the colored contacts, he could see that madness that drove her, the depravity that lurked just beneath the polished exterior. “My newest money creation. A cross between X, Dimitri, and roofies. So technically he could fuck until he over heated himself, thus frying his brain.” Her laughter grated out again.

“Think how many men will now die very, very happy. My creation has that same side effect as X and we can’t ever seem to get rid of that one.” She shrugged and straightened.

Her laughter reminded him of nails on a chalkboard. She walked around the back of the couch, put her hand to Darya’s head, watching him all the while.

He wanted to simply kill her.

Her grin grew

Darya jerked her head up and glared over her shoulder at Elianya.

“You ruined so much, Dimitri I worked long and hard to build up the business I did.”

He nodded. “Child porn and child prostitution is a hard market to break into, is it?”

“Always playing the sinner,” she said, “And all the while you’re the saint.”

She walked behind his mother and he fisted his hands. Leaning down, Elianya pointed towards him with the gun, and said close to his mother’s head, “Do you know your son has killed people, Mrs. Kinncaid?”

His mother’s eyes locked with his, but he looked away.

“Like you?” his mother asked.

Ian closed his eyes and snapped in Czech to Elianya, hoping his parents would stay out of it.

“What? Don’t want them to know how you carried out hits?” she asked him in turn. Then in English. “Killed for profit. Killed because he was ordered to and, I dare say, in some cases simply because he felt like it.” Behind Darya she stopped again and put her 216

hands, one with a gun, the other with detonator, on his daughter’s shoulders. “Did you kill my guard I left behind?”

He only stared at her.

She laughed. “Such a hero.” Shaking her head, she said, “That was always your problem, Dimitri. Or should I call you Ian?”

He didn’t answer and she continued.

“I wanted you. But you thought you were too good for me. No man rejects me. No man. And then you ruined it more by creating all that trouble for my business.” She leaned down and kissed him, bit his lip until he bled. He pulled back and thought about hitting her. He could probably get the detonator away, but if he didn’t….

Quinlan hadn’t moved.

His mother kept looking from one to the other to the body on the floor.

“Let them go,” he said.

Elianya shook her head. “No. And why would I?” Those dark eyes flashed. “I want you to suffer. So who goes first?” She stepped behind his brother and grinned, then his mother, tapping his mother’s temple with the 9 mm, then his father. He could have sighed as she left Darya out.

Her husky laughed blacked the room. “Your daughter here will be coming back with me. I can make a lot of money off of her.”

Something in him snapped and he simply stared at her. And stared. The edges of his vision cleared, sharpened, focused. He stared even as he felt the blessed coldness seeping over him, the ice that preceded the action. He calmed his breathing, felt his heart slow.

He didn’t blink, didn’t look away from the woman.

She blinked and took a step back. “Well,…” She shook her head. “You should decide.”

Ian took a deep breath and stood. She flinched. Good. And she took another step back, even better.

“You’ve taken my guns, Elianya,” he said, his voice low and cold. “Surely you’re not afraid of me.”

Her chin jutted up. He wanted to get her away from them. Away from his parents, his brother and sure as hell his daughter.

“I fear no man.”

Staring at her another moment, he said, “You will.”

She cocked a brow. “I doubt it.”

He only smiled.

Elianya frowned, motioned with the gun the people on the couch. “I haven’t got all night. First? Well, it should be one of your parents since if I blow your brother….” She laughed again. “You see what I mean. Then it would be over for everyone.”

* * * *

Rori decided to hell with this. She quietly ran down the back stairs to the kitchen where Becky hummed and slammed stuff into bowls. She took one look at Rori and startled. “What are you about, then?” “Shh … and stay in here.” She started out the door then turned back. “I mean it, Becky. Do not come out of this kitchen for any reason or you just might get someone 217

killed.”

Rori drew her gun and hurried towards the living room.

Outside the hall doorway, she saw John crouched low and holding his gun. He shook his head at her.

A bomb. A detonator. A gun. Five hostages.

But the woman didn’t know who she was. She smiled at John, hurried back down the hallway and outside. At least she still had her coat on. She ran around the front of the house. Shoved her gun … coat pocket and shoot through it? Or leave it at her back and pull it?

Well, if at back, it could be seen. Of course it would be hard to miss either way.

Bloody hell, she shoved it in her waist at the small of her back and pulled her shirt out.

She opened the door and slammed it, muttering. “Bloody ass animals. Bambi would just have to run in front of me. First the rabbit, then the damn deer.” She turned the corner and gasped. “What the bloody hell is going on, then?”

Ian glared at her.

“Ah, the little wife.” She motioned with her 9 mm.

Well damn. Woman should really try a different gun.

Rori stepped cautiously into the room. Play the stupid wife.

“What’s going on? Ian?” she put a quiver in her voice.

Elianya Hellisnki was beautiful, those large slanted eyes, jet black hair, a body a centerfold would envy. She motioned with her gun for Rori to come closer. Detonator in one hand, gun in another.

Rori walked up to the woman, trying to act afraid. Not that it was too bloody hard.

If they all made it out of here alive, she had several things to say to Ian She and the woman stood on this side of the couch. Ian as well, but closer to Jock who also stood now, but on the other side of the sofa.

“I’ll give you any amount of money you want,” the old man told her.

Elianya laughed. “Oh dear man, I could buy out your entire operation. I don’t need your money. What I want, is your son to beg me.”

Ian looked at her, his hands up as he tried to put himself between her and his family. “You want me to beg, Elianya. Then I’m begging. Please let them go. You don’t need them. You want me.”

She smiled. “Say it again.”

He gritted his teeth, the muscle ticking in his jaw, his eyes as cold and merciless as Rori had ever seen them. “Please.”

Elianya motioned with the gun. “On your knees.”

His eyes met Rori’s and in them she saw his anger, his fear, his love. He dropped to his knees.

Oh God.

Rori stood closest to the door, Ian stood almost directly in front of his father who thankfully remained on the other side of the couch. Elianya between Rori and them.

Kaitlyn and Darya were still on the couch and Quinlan moaned in the chair.

“Oh my Gawd,” Rori drawled, looking closer at Quinlan. His chin almost at his chest, sweat dripping off his forehead “What is the matter with him?”

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It drew the woman’s attention from Ian and she glanced at Rori then back to Ian.

“Is she really your wife? I didn’t figure she was your type, darling.”

Rori jerked. “Darling? You’re calling my,” she said, stepping closer. “My husband, darling?”

First priority was the bomb. She’d leave the gun to Ian.

“Yes.”

“My husband.”

Elieanya looked slyly at Ian. “You didn’t tell her about us?”

She looked from one to the other. “Us? What the bloody hell is she talking about, Ian?”

Rori strode over to him, letting her anger at the woman, boil over to Ian. “Us?”

Ian shrugged. “It’s not what you think?”

“Not what I bloody think? Think?” She took a deep breath, braced her feet. Ian’s eyes flashed and she whirled on Elianya. “Did you sleep with my husband?” she willed tears to her eyes.

Elianya shook her head and laughed. “Yes. Several times and several ways.”

“You bitch!” Whirling back to Ian she cried. “And you … you … how can I ever trust you to--” She kicked straight back, dead center the woman’s chest and grabbed the woman’s wrist, twisting it until Elianya dropped the detonator into Rori’s hand. She tossed it over her shoulder to Ian.

As Elianya bought the gun up, Rori pivoted and kicked again, but the woman had turned. Elianya looked at Ian, then passed him.

As Rori tried to kick her again, pulling her gun free, Elianya leaned to the side, aimed and shot.

Rori heard Ian’s shout, but didn’t turn. She kicked the woman under the chin, Elianya’s head snapping back, the gun shooting to the ceiling, even as she aimed her own at the fallen woman.

* * * *

The sting of the bullet bit into Ian’s shoulder. He slammed into his father, taking them both to the floor. His eyes met Jock’s and all he saw in his father’s eyes was pain. God, no.

“Ian?” his father whispered.

“It’s okay, Dad. It’ll be okay.” He tried to roll off, but pain bit into his chest and his vision wavered.

“Ian? No. No. No.” His father’s voice sounded warbled.

The detonator. He felt the box in his hand and prayed to God he hadn’t endangered them.

“Dad…,” He hissed through the pain burning in his chest.

* * * *

John ran into the room. “You’re as bad as Ian is.” He kicked the gun out of Elianya’s hand. She was out cold. Rori took a deep breath and turned. Kaitlyn was on her knees on the floor. Rori didn’t see Jock or Ian. She hurried over and saw Kaitlyn was kneeling next to the fallen men. Ian was lying atop his father, a hole in his back and Jock shaking his head, muttering, “No. No.”

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“Oh, Jesus.”

Rori leapt over the couch, even as she heard the rip of tape from across the room.

“Ian hit?” John yelled.

Rori pushed Kaitlyn aside and turned Ian over. No exit wound. Bloody, hell. He moaned and glared up at her. “If you ever, ever do anything so fucking stupid again, I swear I will have your ass.” He hissed an inhale through gritted teeth.

She was so relieved tears stung her eyes. “Stay still.”

“Rori!” John yelled.

“Yeah, Ian’s hit, but I don’t think too bad.” She prayed it wasn’t lodged in his lung or worse. Bloody hell, she couldn’t think.

The sound of a helicopter chopped through the air. Thank, God.

“Detonator,” Ian muttered.

She looked in his hand, he’d caught it and still held it cradled in his palm.

Jock pulled himself up and knelt over his son.

John came over and looked for himself. He helped roll Ian onto his back, felt his vitals.

Mrs. Kinncaid was looking at Rori from Quinlan’s side.

Rori smiled slightly. “I think Ian’ll be all right.”

For a second, Kaitlyn’s eyes dropped to Ian on the floor, before focusing on Quinlan again. Her hands slapped his face. “Come on, Quin! Damn it! Damn it! Someone get this damn thing off my son!”

“Mrs. Kinncaid,” John said. “A bomb squad is coming. I’m not touching that until one arrives. I don’t care for anything to go wrong. When help arrives, and a bomb squad is coming, tell them Quinlan’s overdosed on a type of Ecstasy and Roofies. A chemical blend of both. He’s your more critical.” He slapped Ian’s good arm. “This bloke here will be just fine.” To Ian he said. “I won the bet.”

“What bet?” Ian’s mouth was white lined and hard, his lips thinned.

“Which of us would get shot next.” John looked at her, his eyes hard. “Roth is bad. I think one of the bullets caught his lung.” Leaning over Ian he said. “I’ve got to go.”

Ian nodded. “Call me.”

Rori glanced over her shoulder to see Darya scamper off the couch and wedge her way to Ian. She put her hand on his and said, “Papa.”

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