The Nightlife Moscow (Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Suspense) (The Nightlife Series Book 5) (10 page)

It had all happened so fast, like flipping a switch, and
there was no flipping it back, not tonight. Aaron now had a new title to add to
his resume –
vampire assassin
.

* * * *

Aaron sensed the wolves were unnerved by his and Michelle’s
ferocity. The wolves watched Aaron and his lover with hard faces as Urvashi and
Renault led them down the long sweeping curve of the stairs and out to the far
side of the room. Even Katya stared at him with a funny look. Urvashi simply
nodded as she sent a psychic kick his way. {{Michelle has been sated. Keep her
close. Let the wolves find our prey tonight – it’s their fight.}}

Aaron nodded and collected Michelle who was wiping blood off
her face with her oversized jacket sleeve. She smiled as he took her hand and
caught her eyes. Some semblance of the Michelle he knew and loved had returned.

“Vash wants us to hang back. Please stay at my side.”

Her eyes flashed in challenge, then tracked the wolves
walking off in the dark distance. “
Oui, mon cher
, but not far behind.”
She tugged on his hand and pulled him to keep up with her silent, graceful jog.
She moved like a ballerina in black combat gear, dainty and deadly.

The wolves led them through another large room filled with
expensive, overstuffed couches and even more expensive hardwood tables, some
kind of formal sitting area. They turned down a stairway into what must be a
basement. The glow of sconce lighting on dark red walls reminded Aaron of
walking through a dark, hushed theater. At the bottom of the stairs they
encountered a set of oversized ornate hardwood doors. Locked.

Ivan and Anatoly laid strips of grey putty along the seam
where the double doors met. Aaron watched them, puzzled. “Let me just kick it
open.”

Ivan shook his head, a finger held to his lips to shush
Aaron.

Anatoly pointed at the door and whispered. “Beneath the wood
is steel.”

It finally occurred to Aaron what the wolves were playing
with – C4 plastic explosives. Mission Impossible just became Mission Probable.
These guys actually knew what the hell they were doing. They pressed grey clay
all the way around the top and bottom and the entire vertical seam between the
doors. They were going to blow the thing open, like a goddamn bank vault. And
if that was the case, then this must be Dmitri’s personal chambers.

Here they were shushing Aaron, got him all worried about
making noise, and the bastards were about to blow shit up. Ivan signaled and led
everyone back up the stairs. Anatoly and Ivan exchanged nods and Ivan flipped
the toggle on his hand-held switch. In the confined space of the stairway, the
sound was near deafening, but hardly any debris came in their direction. Ivan
slapped Aaron’s shoulder and yelled. “Now!” He thundered down the stairs with
the whole gang in a rush.

Urvashi’s hand latched onto Aaron’s arm and her command
washed over his mind. {{Wait.}}

He stood rooted in place as Michelle slipped out of his
grasp. She ran straight for the blasted doors and joined the wolves as they
slammed into the jagged wood and pushed with all their weight. Like felling a
massive oak tree, the doors splintered and cracked as they tilted over. Sounds
of grinding steel accompanied the slow topple. A ton of steel and wood hit the inner
chamber floor with a resounding boom and sent dust and splinters flying
everywhere.

Nothing moved. No one made a sound. The dust settled in the
darkness, and the wolves waited. After several seconds, Ivan stepped forward,
and they all moved with him in lockstep, right over the top of the doors.
Assault rifles at the ready, three flashlights pierced the darkness and found a
dusty, empty room. Light beams swept left and right, seeking anyone lying in
wait.

His master nodded to Aaron to move forward, and they
followed the wolves into the dark room. Urvashi found the light switches on the
wall and revealed glossy black floors, brown leather-upholstered seats and dark
wooden circular tables. The place looked like an exclusive gentleman’s club.
Urvashi nodded, giving the signal to move in behind the wolves. Aaron followed
past the entryway to find low couches surrounding a 75’ television, and a fully
stocked bar. The place had to be at least 3000 square feet. A fucking deluxe
mancave.

“Spread out.” Ivan waved his rifle and everyone fanned out
to check the area.

Wasn’t Dmitri supposed to be here? Aaron followed Katya as
she checked behind the bar then tapped her on the shoulder with a whisper. “Is
this where you thought he’d be?”

Her lips formed a tight line and she nodded. Things were not
going as planned.

The thumps of something coming down the stairs had everyone
turned around with rifles at the ready. Four little black metal balls rolled
into the room to rest at Nikolay’s feet. He ran screaming, “Grenades!”

Everyone hit the floor except Urvashi. Katya snatched
Aaron’s jacket and pulled hard as she dived behind the bar. Like a film playing
in slow motion, Aaron fell towards Katya, as he watched his master standing
alone against the blast. Fire, smoke and shrapnel flew out straight for Urvashi
and bounced off a spherical shield of golden light, sparks flying everywhere. Her
aura had expanded several feet outside her body to form a protective bubble of
telekinetic power.

As he landed atop his bloodslave, making her grunt from the
impact, he lost sight of the awesome display of Urvashi’s power. Bits and
particles of shrapnel slapped into the heavy bar furniture, but never made it
through to Aaron and Katya on the other side. Aaron snatched Katya and rolled
out from under a shower of busted glass from a shattered display case against
the wall.

Ears ringing from the blast, he shook off glass shards and
pulled Katya to her feet. Urvashi’s aura had returned to its normal ethereal
glow wrapped tightly around her skin, but she had drawn her sword and discarded
the wooden scabbard. Aaron had learned in Paris that his master wasn’t much for
conventional weapons. Urvashi preferred the samurai’s weapon, the thirty-one
inch curved katana. She had trained Aaron to handle the shorter katanas – eighteen
inch straight blades –
wakizashis
.

She stood her ground, sword drawn, while twenty-some
black-clad soldiers filed into the room bearing snub-nosed assault weapons.
Katya squatted low behind the bar with her rifle aimed at the advancing men,
but she held her fire. The soldiers darted into the midst of the downed,
groaning wolves and stopped at a snapped Russian command coming from the
stairwell.

The shit has officially hit the fan
. Aaron could already
feel a bullet wound coming on. No way in hell he’d escape this mess unscathed.

Urvashi held her sword up in defiance, like Uma Thurman
facing down a horde of ninjas all by herself. Behind the soldiers walked a man
who could be none other than Dmitri. For a supervillain, he wasn’t very tall or
imposing, yet he had the cliché I’m-gonna-enjoy-peeling-your-skin-off grin. He
looked every ounce the Russian bajillionaire with his pointy face, perfectly
manicured, greased hair, and a tailored suit that probably cost more than his
gardener’s annual salary.

One glance at this slick bastard, and Aaron knew Dmitri had
all the variables pinned down, his competition squashed, his deals closed with
tightly-sealed tax shelters, and every dirty politician in the Kremlin eating
out of his hand. Dmitri was mega-corporate corruption personified.

A black and blonde growling blur struck the soldiers from
the left side and two men in her path went down. A whip-crack sounded and
Dmitri had moved ten feet, landing atop Michelle with a closed fist that ended
somewhere at her ribcage. She went flying in a squeal of pain, bowling over two
more soldiers to land in a tumble of blonde hair.

The thing moved so unbelievably fast. How could they fight
something that fast?

Aaron stood in shock, then rage surged in on a flood of
adrenaline. He tore through the room straight for the son-of-a-bitch. The
wolves started shooting. Katya nailed three men in Aaron’s path, taking them
down like an expert sniper. Ivan and Anatoly raised their rifles and unloaded
their clips into the soldiers nearby, sending men flopping to the floor,
screaming in agonized death throes.

Aaron converged on Dmitri with both blades flying. The man
who was definitely not a man moved in a blink, displaced to several feet away.
Aaron could barely track him in time to arrest his momentum and redirect his
attack. He sliced high and low, missing each time, but getting closer and
closer by millimeters. The insanely grinning creature wouldn’t last forever, not
if Aaron pushed at him hard and fast enough. He spun into a whirlwind of arcing
blades, slashing through every soldier in reach.

The thing backed away from side to side, always changing
directions in a blink, never in the same place twice. A pistol materialized in
Dmitri’s hand from somewhere and he fired as he dodged and evaded everything
Aaron could throw at him. Rounds zinged past Aaron, barely missing him as he
did his own version of the flash-dance, spinning left, then right, blades
flying all the while. He knew that once Dmitri caught him with a solid shot,
the odds would shift badly. The son-of-a-bitch was just too damned fast.

Then Michelle streaked in with a fierce battle cry and raked
her razor claws across Dmitri’s backside. His step faltered just long enough for
Aaron to close the distance. Howling in rage, Aaron slashed through Dmitri’s
arm and chest, cutting bone deep. The feeling of his sword severing flesh was
the most satisfying thing he’d done all night long.

He flipped his right hand sword around, lined up for the
fatal slice.

“Don’t kill him yet!” Urvashi’s scream cut through the melee
of bullets and blood. A concussion of force blasted past Aaron, knocking him
aside. The power hit Dmitri head-on, flattened his nose, and clipped Michelle spinning
her off to one side. The semi-truck force of Urvashi’s will launched Dmitri
flying across the room. He smacked the back of his head against the wall with a
loud, resounding crack. In a slow exhale of breath, he bounced off the wall and
hit the floor, unconscious.

Dazed and seeing stars, Aaron watched his master spinning
her great sword in a circular arc, cutting down the last of the soldiers who
were unlucky enough to be anywhere near her. For a moment, he thought he saw a
flare of her aura and power wrapped around the blade, as though she had
reinforced the steel with her golden energy.

Aaron pulled Michelle to her feet and assessed the damage.
Everywhere he looked the floor was littered with dead and dying soldiers.
Urvashi, eyes ablaze in fury, advanced on Aaron with sword in hand. He thought
for a minute she planned to skewer him. He couldn’t match her skill with a
blade, not even with the advantage of two to her one, and after seeing how she
used her power to enhance her sword, fat chance he had of stopping her.

“We cannot kill him until we find his vault and the formulas!
He holds a stockpile of synthetic venom.”

Aaron backed away from his master’s insanely glowing eyes.
Her aura flashed in pulses of power washing over him with little spikey
pinpricks. He’d never seen her like this before. “Alright! So we find his stash
first. But then I’m cutting his head off.”

Ivan limped over to Dmitri, his rifle pointed at the man’s
skull. “No. He is mine. This life is mine to take. For the pack. For Rasputin.”

Aaron wiped the blood off his swords on the jacket of a
downed soldier and sheathed them. “Whatever. Let’s get it done.”

“Anatoly and Nikolay are hurt.” Tears rolled down Katya’s
face as she kneeled beside her packmates. The downed wolves were awake, alive,
but not exactly mobile.

Nikolay, who had been sitting up beside Katya, lay back with
a sigh, still holding his AK-47. “I got three of them! I’m good.” He had scorch
marks and several wounds visible on his legs and chest. Though a good ten feet
away from the grenades, Nikolay had caught the worst of the blast shrapnel
reflected off Urvashi’s powerful energy shield.

Anatoly tried to stand but his weak left leg collapsed under
him. The left side of his face and neck were streaked reddish black from
shrapnel and black dust. He held his hand over his leg, trying to stop the
bleeding. Katya rushed to his side to wrap his leg with a bandage from her
first aid kit. He smiled at her through teeth gritted in pain. “Lapochka, I’m
okay, Katya.”

Urvashi looked to Ivan. “Can you walk?”

The grizzly old wolf kicked Dmitri over onto his back and
held his gun trained on his temple. “Where he goes, I go.”

Amazingly, the thing on the floor was awake, still fucking
grinning. “Do not mourn Rasputin. He was a plague on this land, a filthy gypsy
dog.”

Ivan cracked him in the ribs with a stomp of his jackboot
and cursed at him in Russian.

“You gypsies never forget a grudge. Griazniy tsigan!”
Filthy
Gypsies
. Dmitri sent bloody red spittle back at Ivan.

Aaron didn’t trust that they’d bested this creature so
easily. He speared a probe into Dmitri’s mind and hit a solid wall blocking him
out. He snapped at Urvashi, “I can’t get a read on him. Why?”

Wheezing in pain from Ivan’s jackboots, Dmitri coughed blood
on the floor and laughed at Urvashi. “Make sure your boy toys are better
prepared when you send them into my country.” His gaze flicked to Aaron and an
invading stab of black hatred pierced Aaron’s mind.

It felt hard and painful, like a cold serrated edge tearing
into his skull, scraping for information. He went down on one knee gripping his
head in agony, trying to find a way to block out the marauding force of Dmitri.

{{Stop!}} Urvashi’s power flowed into Aaron’s mind and suddenly
a blockade shut Dmitri out. The relief was instant, almost euphoric.

What hurt as badly as the assault, was the slimy taste of
Dmitri’s mind. The violation crawled under his skin and even Urvashi’s psychic
cleanse did not erase the greasy residual flavor.