Downswing Read online

  “Where is Emilia?”

  “What the fuck have you done.” I said quietly, straightening to my full height and folding my arms over my chest. I started to turn to Misaki Usami but was stopped by Alexei’s hoarse voice.

  “I need to speak with Emilia Fox. Immediately.” Alexei persisted, and though his voice was calm, I frowned at the sight of urgency flashing in his eyes.

  “What are you waiting for, D’yavol? Put a bullet in his brain and ship him back to Korol.” Jazz said from off to my right, and I wholeheartedly agreed with her plan.

  “You can do that after I speak with Emilia. I am alone. Unarmed. Nobody is tracking me. Let me speak with the dama now.” Alexei said, his hoarse voice betraying some of the urgency that was clearly riding him.

  “You aren’t going to even lay your filthy eyes on her, let alone speak to her.” I said, swiftly withdrawing my pistol from my waist and pointing it at Alexei’s forehead. The calm, collected man didn’t even flinch- he kept his focused gaze on my own.

  “He was carrying this.” Misaki finally spoke up, handing me a manila folder. Narrowing my eyes at Alexei, I flipped open the folder. Staring at the pictures of men that seemed oddly familiar, I frowned. They had died horribly, if their expressions were anything to go by. I noted the white lily that was in every picture, shivering at the implications of what that meant. If they were involved, Downswing wanted nothing to do with it. I frowned again as my eyes caught on something written in blood above each victim’s heart. Squinting, I leaned in, trying to make out the script-

  And the world came to a grinding halt.

  “What the fuck is it?” I heard Cin growl as if from a distance. Shock pumped through my veins, freezing my blood and making my heart stutter and finally stop completely. I could do nothing but feel the edges of my world crumbling around me as I stared.

  It can’t be.

  “No.” I finally breathed out. My gaze lifted from the photos in my grasp, and landed on Silas, who was stepping forward swiftly, his beautiful face twisted in concern.

  He stepped up beside me and looked down at the photos I had clenched in my hands. He lifted his brow in surprise, but merely scanned the photos without any more emotion that that.

  Until he got to the bloody script.

  And he froze. Every muscle in his body locked into place, and his breathing stopped.

  Because above each man’s heart, scrawled lovingly in their own blood, was one word.

  Fox.

  “I will not ask you a second time, bratik.” I heard Alexei say as he forced himself to his feet in front of me. He met my shocked gaze, his own face finally betraying the emotion that had my heart pounding again, and my breath coming out in a loud whoosh as reality crashed into me like a thousand bullets.

  Fear.

  “Where in the fuck is Emilia Fox?”

  Silas’s heartbroken scream echoed into the night.

  And time finally sped up.

  Silas and I moved as one, shoving Alexei aside and dashing up the stairs. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, as we thundered through the house. I heard the other footsteps close behind me and knew Alexei had turned to follow us, along with all the other members of Downswing. Everyone was yelling, demanding to know what the fuck was happening.

  I didn’t stop.

  I couldn’t.

  I had to get to her.

  I couldn’t be too late.

  No, please, fuck, don’t let me be too late.

  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I reached the door to Emilia’s room, Silas right beside me. Together, we kicked the door so hard, it flew from it’s hinges, crashing inside the room.

  “EMILIA!” I screamed, doing something I hadn’t done in a very, very long time.

  I prayed.

  Prayed for her to answer me. To laugh at me for my panic. To scold me for intruding on her packing. To send me away with one of her haughty looks. To do anything, say anything, as long as she was in the room, safe and sound.

  “ANSWER ME!” My furious bellow echoed around the room and back to me.

  The silence that answered was deafening.

  God. Fuck. No, no, NO.

  “Non.”

  The softly breathed denial had my head whipping around. Silas had fallen to his knees just beside Emilia’s bed. I hurried over and looked down, my heart in my throat.

  And felt the last remains of my world crumble around me.

  There, on the floor by the bed, lay Emilia’s choker.

  Covered in blood.

  “What in the ever-loving fuck is going on?” I heard Kiernan ask. My heartbreak and terror sent me to my knees, my eyes locked on the delicate choker.

  I was too late.

  My captain, my heart, my soul, my everything…

  Gone.

  “She has been taken.” Alexei murmured, his voice sounding a million miles away.

  “Taken? What the fuck you talking about? We were here the whole time. We would have heard something. The entire compound is bugged with cameras and microphones. Nobody could break in, even with most of the outside personnel gone.” Meiling shrieked, coming to stand over me. She gasped as her eyes landed on the choker that Silas now held clutched in his fist.

  “You. You did this.” Masamune breathed, unsheathing his sword and holding it instantly to Alexei’s throat, pressing enough to draw forth a thin line of blood.

  “Where did Korol take her?” Jazzy demanded, shoving her pistol against Alexei’s temple.

  “Kamili, step back.” Roy said, pulling the teenager back from the room. Kamili, the little warrior, clutched the sniper rifle in her hands, and calmly raised the sniper rifle to her shoulder, pointing it at Alexei, her small hands steady, her posture perfect.

  “They have Ludo, too. He was up here with her when she was taken.” Kamili said quietly, though her voice was shaking with rage.

  “Korol didn’t do this.”

  Everyone except Silas and myself turned to the hulking German who had spoken.

  “What do you mean? Of course, he did. Who else would-” Kiernan stopped when Cin, who had gone out onto the terrace, stepped back into the room.

  “Silas.” Cin said, and for the first time since I had known him, his voice was gentle as he said the Frenchman’s name. Silas finally reacted, raising his head slowly to Cin.

  Everyone stared at what Cin held in his clenched fist.

  It was a delicate flower.

  A white lily.

  “No.” Meiling, Masamune, and Jazz all breathed as one.

  Kiernan let out a ragged moan, his fists coming up to clench his hair.

  “My god. No. It can’t be.” Roy breathed, staggering back into the wall.

  “What’s going on? Who took Emmy and Ludo? Who?!” Kamili shrieked, her calm evaporating and her voice rising in panic.

  It was Alexei who finally answered her, his voice quiet and sad in the night.

  “They were said to be a myth. A legend. A story you tell your soldiers to scare them into submission. They are said to be an ancient organization that has always been there, in the shadows, quietly steering the world. They have toppled empires, disbanded governments, and dissolved terrorist groups across the span of history. They are the only group that terrifies Korol, king of the Russian mafia. They are so deadly, so powerful, it is said that even Father of Assassins will never move against them. They are the boogeyman of the entire criminal underworld. In the history of the world, no one has gone against them and lived to tell the tale.”

  Silas finished for him, and his heartbroken voice sent agony rippling through my entire being.

  “Maman.”

  I shut my eyes, my chest so heavy, I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

  Can’t live.

  Not without her. Not without my Emilia.

  My eyes slowly opened, and I took a deep breath in.

  Mine. My Emilia.

  I lifted myself to my feet. Forced myself to stand tall as I turned back to our grou
p.

  And took a deep, steadying breath.

  “She’s alive.”

  They all looked back at me with sympathy and grief in their eyes. Clenching my jaw, I turned back to Silas, who hadn’t moved an inch, Emilia’s choker still clutched in his fist and his head bent down.

  “Silas. Confirm.” I ordered quietly, steel in every syllable.

  Silas slowly lifted his head. Surprise rippled through me at the rage that was contorting his beautiful features into that of a hardened killer. His eyes sparkled with vengeance, his breathing coming in short, fast puffs. Just as suddenly as he showed it to us, the emotion bled from his face, and the usual calm, cold mask slid into place. He swiftly stood with his usual grace, though he still clutched Emilia’s choker close.

  “She is alive.” Silas said in a flat tone. Cin stepped up beside Silas, though his face twisted into a grimace, his teeth worrying his bottom lip before he finished what Silas wouldn’t say.

  “But before they’re done with her… she’s going to wish she was dead.”

  My heart constricted, and rage- swift and merciless- rose within me.

  Mine. My Emilia.

  Never let you go.

  Never.

  “We must find her immediately, then.”

  The haughty command had all of us turning slowly to the speaker. Alexei’s hands were loose, though I had no idea how, and he was rubbing his wrists, looking thoughtful.

  Rage still riding me hard, my movements completely controlled by instinct, I had my pistol in my hand and pressed against Alexei’s forehead. Before I could pull the trigger, Alexei spoke again.

  “You need us.”

  The heartbreak, pain, and agony of knowing Emilia was gone made my hand shake. I stared into Alexei’s eyes, breathing heavy.

  “Korol is calling a truce until Emilia is returned. He is already sending emissaries to France to negotiate with Maman. I am to stay with you and support you in whatever is needed to bring Emilia Fox home.”

  “And you expect us to just trust your word?” Masamune asked quietly.

  “D’yavol.” Alexei said, staring right into my eyes. “He swore on his mother’s grave.”

  Blinking slowly, I let the words sink into my addled brain.

  And I lowered my gun.

  “So, we’re just going to believe him because he swore on his dead mum? This is Korol for Chrissakes.” Kiernan snarled, his distrust clear.

  “Korol would never break that vow. You have no idea what that promise means to him.” I said quietly. “If he had said anything else, I would have put a bullet in Alexei’s brain and sent him back as a fuck-you gift. Trust me, I want to kill this fucker more than anyone here. But he’s right. We’re going to need him.”

  We’re going to need Zakhar.

  I almost vomited at the thought.

  Turning back to the group, I once again stared at my team for a long moment. I saw disbelief, grief, and rage staring back at me, and I had to push my own emotions back to think rationally.

  “I’m getting her back. If you’re not willing to do whatever it takes, even if it means teaming up with Korol and his men, then you can get the fuck out. Nothing matters except bringing Emilia home.”

  I paused, giving them time to decide.

  Not a single person moved.

  “We will be facing the most feared underground assassin group in the entire world. If you choose to follow me into this hell, I can’t promise everyone will make it back alive. Death will never be far behind if you choose to come with me. And if it comes down to it, I will choose Emilia above all else.”

  I didn’t have to elaborate. They knew exactly what I was saying.

  If they came with me, I wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice them to save Emilia.

  Not for one fucking second.

  And once again, not a single person moved.

  Finally, Misaki Usami yelled from the hallway.

  “Stop. You’re making Oniisama hard. He considers having his life threatened foreplay.”

  “I’m getting Emmy and Ludo back. Death can kiss my ass.” Kamili spat out, looking to Roy. Surprising everyone, Roy took a deep breath, and nodded.

  “We’re in.”

  “Well, of course ye are. There isn’t a single fucking person in this room who’s leaving Emilia Fox behind. Right, mates?” Kiernan said, lifting an amused brow at me.

  “Of course not. I make death my bitch. Emilia is coming home.” Meiling answered, nodding at Jazzy. The Albanian woman gave a wide grin, holding up her pinky finger at me.

  “It’s supposed to be thumbs-up, Jazzy.” Kiernan said, rolling his eyes.

  “Shut the fuck up.” Jazzy huffed.

  “As my esteemed colleague said, all this talk of death is making me hard.” Masamune drawled, tilting his head. “When do we leave?”

  “As soon as possible.” Fritz grunted, nodding his head to me.

  “You crazy fuckers. You don’t know what we’re getting into.” Cin said quietly, looking down at Silas. The Frenchman looked up slowly to Cin and held his gaze for a long moment. Finally, Cin sighed.

  “But we do.” Silas drawled, his eyes shifting to me.

  I lifted a surprised brow at that. Silas sighed deeply, before lifting his shirt and tugging his jeans down over his slim hips. I sucked in a breath at the tattoo that I had never seen before, inked lovingly on his lower hip.

  The white lily of death.

  Maman’s tattoo.

  “You and I are going to have a very long chat on the ship, Silas Deveroux.” I said quietly. The Frenchman raised his chin, his eyes narrowing but nodded all the same. Turning back to look at the entire room, I felt my insides turn to ice, and my eyes go flat and cold.

  “Fritz. Alexei is yours for the duration of our journey.”

  Fritz nodded, looking down at the Russian man and raising a brow at the disgusted look Alexei gave him.

  “We leave within the hour. Be ready.”

  I strode from Emilia’s room, my mind going through battle plans and strategies. Anything to keep the grief and rage in check. My chest felt like it had been hollowed out with a dull knife, but I kept my head high, and my heart cased in ice.

  I would do whatever it took to get Emilia back.

  If it meant sacrificing every person back in that room, I was going to do it.

  With a smile on my fucking face.

  Nothing was going to stand in the way of getting my Emilia back.

  Nothing.

  As I strode down the hall and down the stairs, Mark scrambling to catch up to me, I had one thought, and one thought alone.

  I’m coming for you.

  Emilia.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Downswing

  Four watched dispassionately as Twenty-Two and Thirty-Six delivered swift, harsh kicks yet again to the woman strung up in chains in the center of the room. The captive had been nearly silent as his two associates had continuously beat her over the last two hours. She had passed out only once from pain, but had roused herself quickly after they had dumped ice water over her still form. Even then, she had been stoic and silent in her anguish. There was no crying or pleading from the woman, only a quiet defiance that had driven the two operatives into delivering pressure-point torture.

  The woman hadn’t screamed once.

  At least out loud.

  Four rose gracefully, his long, white hair brushing the center of his back as he strode forward with the grace and serenity of the white lily that was his group’s trademark. Twenty-Two and Thirty-Six immediately stopped their assault on the woman, stepping back and bowing to him. As was warranted.

  He was their superior. In every way.

  Four stopped in front of the panting woman, who clearly had at least one fractured rib and a dislocated shoulder. Her arms were strung tightly over her head, lifting her feet nearly off the ground. The entirety of her weight was supported by the chains which were straining her shoulders even further and making breathing more difficult.


  He had made sure she wasn’t going to be comfortable. That were the orders given to him by the head of his organization, the secret organization of assassins known throughout the world as Maman- Mother.

  Maman wanted the girl alive, in one piece, but broken.

  Four was happy to oblige.

  The tall, blonde man peered into the woman’s face. Her beauty shone, even with the swelling, cuts and bruises marring her exposed skin. She had been stripped down to her bra and panties, and her lush form was certainly something to be admired. If it were only her looks, Four would have so trouble dismissing the woman as insignificant. But it was that quiet light that shone through, that spark of spirit and grace that was so rare, one was sure to miss it if they blinked.

  Unfortunately for this girl, someone had taken notice. Which was why she was here now.

  Four thought that he could respect this woman. If the rumors were true, Two had fallen under her spell quickly, and that alone was a telling sign that the woman had a truly remarkable character. Two was a myth, a ghost, a legend- even among Maman’s ranks, he was spoken of only in whispers. If this woman had managed to secure his loyalty and service, she was someone either truly exceptional…

  Or someone unbelievably terrifying.

  “Fox.” Four said in his soft, quiet voice. He lifted her chin with a single finger, forcing her head up. Grey eyes devoid of emotion stared back at him through swollen eyelids. Four felt a shiver slide along his spine and once again, he thought to himself that this woman had secret depths to her that the intel they had gathered hadn’t fully captured.

  “You’re going to regret this.”

  The voice came from the corner of the darkened room. Four let his gaze slide from Emilia Fox to the corner where the Latin boy sat, bound by chains, but otherwise unharmed. Maman’s orders were absolute on the matter of harming children. Not a single hair on their heads unless the order came directly from her. And the boy was seventeen at the most. Though considered adult in some countries, Four knew that Maman would have his head if he brought harm to the unwilling participant in the capture of Emilia Fox. Best to leave that decision to his terrifying leader.