Page 34 of XV (Fifteen) (War of Roses 1)

“Hmph.” Nicolai chuckles in amusement. “I assume he’s been shown the error of his ways?”

“Permanently,” Mischa declares so viciously that I shiver.

“Excellent.” Nicolai clasps his hands together once again. “Now that that nasty business is taken care of, I suppose all that’s left is for you to carry out that favor you owe me. For the inconvenience.”

A slight narrowing of his eyes is the only clue to Mischa’s confusion. “Favor?”

“After all, I’ve always supplied your family and organization with unwavering loyalty and support,” Nicolai continues, still smiling. “You fuck with my money, even byaccident, and you fuck with a domino chain that extends well beyond theMafiya.My other clients don’t like scandal, you see.” He shrugs dismissively as if to say,Can’t be helped.“As retribution for such an error, I will humbly accept whatever help you see fit to bestow,Pakhan.”

“Of course.” A muscle in Mischa’s neck twitches, but his voice never loses that low, cautious cadence. “What do you need?”

“Nothing big.” Nicolai snaps his fingers a second time and a door near the back of the room opens.

Two people enter, and it’s almost like watching a mirror image. A small, ragged figure trails a man nearly twice her size. Her shoulder-length hair makes her childish features seem even larger—enormous brown eyes and a little nose. She’s young. Too young. When they reach the poker table, her companion sets a gray duffel in the center and unzips it.

“The finest cocaine,” Nicolai declares almost lovingly while eyeing the small, round packets the bag contains. Each one is no larger than a golf ball, rubbery in appearance. “Several uncut grams,” he adds, “all ready to be consumed by one of the wealthiest men in the world. This client tends to be tricky to supply, however. He likes it brought to him directly, and let’s just say he travels within a…select posse. Tonight, they’re at a hotel in the city. I believe you’re familiar with the location?”

Mischa nods.

“Excellent. All I need you to do is escort my friend here to the rendezvous. There are clothes for both of you in the bag. Get her through security and leave the cocaine where my client can retrieve it discreetly. Then our debt shall be settled. Oh, and”—Nicolai lifts a packet for inspection—“my new chemist doesn’t know his head from his ass. These packets will last only about an hour, tops, in the body, and that’s roughly how long it will take to reach my client. So speed will be of the essence. Though, if the girl survives, you can have her.” He reaches out, running his fingers through her blond hair. “I’m sure you can find someusefor her in one of those clubs of yours.”

“Where am I meeting this client?” Mischa demands, swatting the suggestion aside.

Nicolai rattles off what sounds like a random number. “Make sure she swallows the cocaine before you arrive. I’m sure there will be a blockade of some sort, searching vehicles. And, if by some bad turn of luck, youdoget caught…”

“We were never here,” Mischa says. Turning to the girl, he snatches up the duffel. “Come on.”

In utter silence, she follows us back to the elevator and into the garage, where the van is still idling, ready to pull away the moment we climb into the back seat.

As the door slams shut, Mischa forms a fist and punches the window. “Damn it!”

Sandwiched between us, the girl doesn’t react to the outburst, but I flinch. I can’t take my eyes off the duffel. I can’t stop hearing Nicolai’s words echo in my head.If the girl survives, you can keep her.

Even the Winthorps weren’t so callous when it came to human life. They killed their toys quickly, and when they were no longer of any use.

And, despite his own brand of cruelty, something tells me that even Mischa is balking at the logistics of this plan. Smuggling drugs in the body of a child so that some rich bastard can get his fix. Ialmostbelieve it.

Until I see his face. He’s lost that fragile calm again. In its absence, darkness consumes all that’s left. Poor Vanya was wrong: There’s nothing human about this creature. Without a word of explanation, he unzips the duffel and rummages through it for a bottle of water, which he shoves aside. Then a packet he hands to the girl. “Put this in your—”

“No.” My hand flies out before I can stop it, gripping his forearm.No!Some frantic voice at the back of my mind sounds a meaningless warning. But it’s too faint to hear clearly.Don’t do this, Ellen…

As if used to a routine, the girl obediently grabs the water bottle and tips it toward her mouth, but I snatch it away before she can even down a drop.

“Don’t.” Reaching across her, Mischa snatches my wrist. “Stay the fuck out of this.”

My sore body throbs at the warning in his tone. Disobeying him is futile. I know that, but I hold my free hand out anyway.

“Give it to me,” I demand, nodding toward the packet.

Words can’t describe how rage distorts his features. His fingers clench, but if he hits me in such a narrow space, the girl will be caught in the middle.

Lunging toward him, I snatch a packet from the bag and shove it into my mouth. Only sheer force of will can override the instinct to spit it right back out.Swallow, swallow!My gag reflex triggers. Even the water doesn’t help. I have toshovethe packet down with shaking fingers, igniting my already tender throat in the process.

“Fuck!” A heavy hand swipes at my mouth in vain.

“It’s too late,” I somehow manage to croak as my throat struggles to down the foreign object. “I already swallowed it. Now, give me the rest before…”

Before time runs out.

---