Downswing Read online

  She was one of us.

  "Capitaine."

  Sergei stopped the tirade he was currently screaming into his hand radio and turned a glare at the French boy that was pressed against the bars of his cell.

  "The fuck do you want, whore?" Sergei snarled at the boy.

  "Trade me for the gosse." The French boy, Silas, said in a calm voice, calling Ludo “kid” in his native tongue.

  "What the fuck are you doing?" Moving so fast he was almost a blur, Cin stood at the bars, grasping the front of Silas's shirt in his fist.

  "That boy is too young for that. Do you really want to kill the only hostage of the cartel you possess?" Silas spoke to Sergei as if Cin wasn't growling right into his face.

  Sergei, along with the other guards still in the basement, stared at Silas for a long moment.

  "And why would I do that? That boy is pretty enough. And they wouldn't dare kill a prisoner of the Pakhan's." Sergei sneered.

  Silas turned to look directly at Sergei and tilted his head back. He smiled slowly, his features lighting up with the movement. With just the movement of his lips, the haughty man was transformed into a young boy who glowed with innocent enticement.

  "You said you wanted to impress them, oui?"

  The guards stared at Silas with slack jaws, a few even adjusting themselves in the process. Sergei snapped his fingers after a long, tense moment and nodded his consent.

  "Bring the cartel brat back. A compliant whore suits me just fine."

  "The fuck you're going anywhere." Cin snarled, pushing Silas behind him and crouching into a fighting stance.

  Cin's neck jerked back suddenly and his body was launched against the stone wall at the back of the cell in the space of a few seconds. Slumping to the ground, Cin and his objections were silenced, and Silas dusted his hands off on his pants, looking up at the stunned guards with a raised brow.

  "Well, well. Seems the French whore has some other skills, after all." Sergei just chuckled, pressing his thumb to the door to allow the guards in to take Silas. The French boy gave a Gallic shrug and stepped out of his cell.

  Silas slid a long look at Emilia, and one corner of his mouth lifted.

  "Tu me dois, princesse." He said quietly, telling Emilia that she owed him, before stepping through the door of the prison that shut with morbid finality as he departed.

  Sergei also gave one look back to Emilia's cell and cursed again.

  "Two of you stay with the doctor in case she wakes up and causes trouble."

  With that said to his guards, he exited the basement. The guards stood at the entrance and conversed quietly in Russian while the doctor nervously worked.

  Meiling moved towards the bars separating our cell from Emilia's and addressed the doctor quietly.

  "Little bitch doctor, you going to fix her, right?"

  The doctor flinched but turned fully to face Meiling. His jaw dropped, and he pushed his glasses further up on his nose with trembling hands. His eyes fairly devoured the stunning Chinese girl, dressed in nothing but the skimpy red dress she had been captured in. Meiling let him look, which was unusual for her, but her lips turned up in a sneer.

  "You understand English, Doctor Little Bitch?"

  The doctor flinched again, glancing at the guards standing outside of the cell. The guards were occupied having an intense conversation of their own, the topic being the fate of the idiot who had dared to cause harm to Emilia. My muscles tensed at the memory of Emilia's small frame being driven to the ground with such unnecessary force. She had barely managed to catch the majority of her weight on her hands. Had she not brought her hands up to protect herself, her head would have probably split from the sheer force the guard had used to bring her down. As it was, she probably had a concussion and her face would bruise terribly.

  Her neck would more than likely never be the same.

  Cold, dispassionate fury swept through me. Whatever the Pakhan did to the guard - and there would be retribution and death, if the guard was lucky enough to have it end quickly- was nothing compared to what I would have done, had I been free of my chains.

  "Viktor?"

  I let my eyes slowly slide to the doctor from Emilia's still frame, giving my signature black stare. The doctor had his back turned to the guards and was pretending to ruffle through his bag, the clanging of the tools covering up the fact that he had just muttered my name. His eyes were on me, and I nodded my head a fraction of a centimeter to confirm the unasked question- yes, I was D’yavol. The doctor's voice was barely audible, and he slouched down further, ruffling through his bag even more, causing even more noise to echo around the stone walls. Though his actions were that of a very nervous man, the doctor's eyes- trained on me- were sharp and calculating. His gaze flicked to Meiling, who was also watching him closely, and he mouthed to both of us only two words.

  "Be ready."

  The doctor's bag tipped over, and his instruments spilled out on the stone ground, all in the matter of seconds. He broke out into stuttered apologies as he frantically began putting his instruments back into his bag. The guards rushed in, yelling at the doctor and kicking his instruments back to him. Sobbing, the doctor slid his bag close and finished cleaning and dressing Emilia's wounds.

  After another hour had passed, the doctor stood and said to no one in particular, "She's resting comfortably, her injuries should heal rather quickly. The two things that are worrisome are her mild concussion and the open wounds at her throat. It will definitely leave a scar there but if she doesn't move around too much over the next few days, the other wounds will at least heal as cleanly as possible."

  Nods came from every prisoner except Cin- who was still unconscious.

  The doctor's sharp gaze returned to me and his nod was barely perceptible. The guards and the doctor then left Emilia in the cell, locked her in, and exited the basement.

  I sat as still as stone, my eyes now focused on Meiling. She leaned against the bars that were shared between Emilia's cell and ours, heaving a long sigh.

  "Why you do something so stupid, Fat Girl?"

  "How does she look, Meiling?" This came from Roy who, along with Kamili, were both pressed against the front of their cell. Upon another glance, it seemed everyone in the basement were at the front of their cells, waiting for an answer. Even the Yakuza member was standing, leaning against the bars, looking at Emilia's still form. I let my eyes roam around the room, taking in the characters from around the world who had been dealt the same cards of Fate that had landed them here with me.

  They were all warriors and every last one of them, even the young African girl, could hold their own in a fight. They had been imprisoned because all of them had fought valiantly with the Pakhan and possessed skills the mafia boss wanted to obtain. I knew how the Pakhan operated and if they were still alive, they were special in some way. Korol was just biding his time, waiting to harvest their skills or bargain for coveted alliances with their bosses.

  Or collect the hefty sum of bounty money that was posted for nearly every unsavory person that surrounded me.

  The Pakhan had been so engrossed with Emilia, he had let his prisoner count climb higher than usual. I rolled my head on my shoulders, cracking my neck to loosen the kinks, and I inwardly smiled. Though she hadn't meant to, Emilia had done something remarkable among the prisoners, who were all from diverse backgrounds and were often at war with each other. With her show of strength and courage, she had bound all the outlaws in the basement under one cause.

  Retribution for hurting one of their own.

  I worked my muscles, tensing and releasing them. My inward smile broadened even more as I analyzed the two big mistakes the Pakhan had made. The first had been allowing some of the world's most talented and vicious criminals to be held captive in one space where they could bond. The second, and most fatal for the Pakhan, had been sending Emilia down to where the crazy fuckers were and letting her strong spirit and sweet nature unite them under one cause.

  "She going t
o be okay. Doctor Little Bitch cleaned her up good." Meiling answered after a tense moment, and a sigh of relief came simultaneously from Roy and Kamili.

  "How's her neck? That fuck wrapped that whip tight 'round her poor throat." Kiernan said, trying to shove his German cellmate aside so he could see Emilia better.

  "Yeah, her throat all fucked. She going to have trouble talking for a few days." Meiling heaved a sigh, the longing to reach out to Emilia stamped clear on her face.

  I locked my eyes on Emilia again, taking in the bandage now circling her neck. I had noticed the torn skin and friction burn at her throat before the doctor had applied salve and wrapped it up. She was indeed going to scar, and my fury rose even further at the thought of the pain Emilia was going to go through when she woke up.

  "That doctor called you Viktor. That right?"

  Everyone went silent. I looked up slowly at the sound of a new voice with a barely perceptible accent. My gaze collided with the black stare of the Yakuza member, Masamune, and I just barely raised a brow.

  "You speak English?!" The Albanian girl shouted at her cellmate, clearly flabbergasted.

  Masamune ignored the woman, and just continued to stare at me. I hadn't ever really looked at the man before, since he had spoken no more than five words since his capture three months earlier, way after my time of being banished here. After a few moments of staring at the man, I realized I knew exactly who the Yakuza member was. His last name hadn't been given, and now that I recognized him, I realized that he had intentionally omitted that piece of information.

  "It is you, isn't it? What an interesting turn of events." Masamune chuckled lightly.

  "What you talking about, Jap dog?" Meiling snarled.

  Masamune didn't even glance at her, just smiled slowly at me. The entire prison was looking back and forth between myself and the Yakuza member, and I grit my teeth as my identity was about to be revealed.

  "We've been housed with a celebrity all this time, and you didn't speak up. That is terribly rude of you. Now I know why you've been chained to a wall all this time and they love torturing you so much."

  Everyone now looked at me as Masamune's quiet voice echoed off the stone walls.

  "Now what did you do to piss your boss off, Viktor? Or do you prefer… D'yavol?"

  Silence reigned supreme as everyone stared at me. I almost rolled my eyes at the theatrics but forced myself to be stoic. I just stared back at Masamune for a moment, then let out a breath of irritation that had everyone jumping.

  "You have room to speak of secret titles, Masamune Onodera, prince of the Onodera group?"

  Everyone's gazes whipped from me to the Yakuza member, whose smile only broadened. He gave a bark of laughter, even as jaws dropped, and his cellmate scooted away from him. He waved a graceful hand, as if waving away praise.

  "I would have to kill four people to assume leadership. Not worth my time. Yet."

  "Wait, wait. So, the big guy chained to a wall is D'yavol, the most feared thug in the Russian mafia and you're Masamune Onodera, the heir to the most powerful Yakuza group in Japan?" Kiernan spoke, his voice raising in pitch with each word.

  Kiernan's cellmate Fritz, also very famous in the criminal underworld, simply patted Kiernan's shoulder. The Irishman just shook his head, sinking onto his cot in disbelief.

  "As I said, I'm the fourth head. It is only a little impressive." Masamune just shrugged, his tall frame leaned casually against the bars of the cell, and his handsome features schooled into a cold mask.

  "Did that little fuck seriously throw me against a wall?"

  Everyone gave a start of surprise and looked to Cin, who had silently awoken, stood, and come to sit at the front of his cell without anyone noticing.

  "Yeah, little gay boy toss you back so fast. You never even see it coming. So funny." Meiling snickered, prompting Cin to snap his teeth at her.

  He rubbed the back of his head, noticed the blood on his hand and some of his dreadlocks, and tsked. Cin stood in one smooth movement, and again I noted how swift and silent his movements were. He had obviously been well trained, though where and by what underground group was still a mystery.

  The door opened with a whoosh, and three guards walked in, scowling fiercely at the prisoners.

  "No food for anyone today. If you want it tomorrow, you will all shut the fuck up and keep to yourselves." The front guard barked while reaching behind him. He shoved a small body forward, and I was a little surprised that it was the cartel boy already returning.

  He had a fresh black eye, but looked otherwise unharmed. The gag was still in his mouth, and he was struggling furiously, his eyes alight with rage. The boy looked around him, his struggles coming to a halt as he took in the familiar walls of the basement prison. He got quiet as he looked through the cell bars and stared at Emilia, laying still on the cot. The guard pressed his thumb against the pad on the lock and shoved the boy inside.

  "Count yourself lucky the French whore switched with you, brat. I hear they're having a good time with him upstairs." The guards all laughed, and the one who spoke looked directly at Cin as he said his next ugly words.

  "He won't be walking right for at least a week."

  "A week? The way they’re tearing into him, he probably won’t be able to ever sit again.” The other guard chimed in.

  The guards' horrible laughter faded as the door to the prison closed and everyone grew quiet. All eyes fell to Cin to gauge his reaction.

  Not a single muscle twitched as Cin just stared at the door the guards had disappeared behind. I slowly counted to three inside my head and at three, Cin came to life, throwing his fist against the stone at the back of his cell. His breathing heavy, he turned slowly and stared right at me. His lips barely moved as he addressed me in a low tone.

  "You better have a fucking plan, D'yavol."

  I lifted a brow at him, and we all looked back to Emilia. The cartel boy was kneeling beside the cot with Emilia's hand clutched between his own, and his head was resting on the cot beside their clasped hands. His shoulders were shaking, though no sound came from him. A tense silence resumed in the dungeon, everyone seeming to direct their thoughts inward and let the silence echo around the stone walls. I began to calculate escape options and resumed my muscle exercises.

  "The eyes gave you away."

  My head whipped up with such ferocity my chains rattled. My eyes immediately went to Emilia. She still lay on the cot, completely still. Her head was turned, but those cold, grey eyes were open and locked…

  On me.

  Though I felt shock, my facial muscles moved not an inch. I just stared into those beautiful eyes, and though they swam with pain, she was clearly lucid.

  "Viktor." Her voice was so raspy, and her lips barely moved as she said my name.

  That direct gaze and raspy voice sent a wave of lust rolling through my body with such force, I couldn’t help the soft grunt that escaped. I lowered my head, as if acknowledging her, though in truth it was to hide my blatant desire.

  The girl was just beaten, for fuck’s sake. Get ahold of yourself.

  "Look at me."

  Her raspy voice had a thread of iron in it. My gaze snapped up to hers, all emotion wiped from my face.

  "Seven days."

  After whispering the words, her eyes closed, and a strangled breath escaped her throat as she passed out from the pain that was clearly consuming her. The other occupants of the dungeon looked on, mumbling to each other, having not heard the exchange between us. Only Meiling, Ludo and I had heard the soft words that she had woken up specifically to say.

  Voices cut off when the door to the dungeon opened and Sergei, accompanied by four guards, walked in. They walked briskly to Emilia's cell and opened the door. Sergei kicked Ludo, sending the young boy flying into the wall.

  "Filth." Sergei snarled at Ludo, who smartly stayed pressed against the wall, though his eyes were still full of that defiant hatred.

  The captain turned back to Emilia, and I almo
st snarled as he scooped her up from the cot. My rage that had been simmering below the surface boiled over as Emilia gave out a whimper of pain at the movement.

  Meiling suddenly stepped in front of my line of vision. She was facing away from me, but her head shook once from side to side. My jaw clenched as I forced my rage down, watching as Sergei carried Emilia past my cell. Everyone looked on as the tattered woman disappeared out the door of the dungeon and a heavy silence once again hung in the air.

  I pushed all emotion down, forcing myself to focus sole on the escape strategies running through my mind. I looked to Meiling, still standing in front of me, and my eyes lowered to her clenched fist.

  The corners of my lips twitched in amusement and anticipation. I rolled my shoulders, feeling more alive than I had since Zakhar had banished me to the prison below his vast country estate. The light danced off Meiling's hand for a quick moment and caught what was clenched in her fist.

  The scalpel the doctor had conveniently left for us danced in the light before disappearing up Meiling's sleeve.

  My head went down as a long-awaited grin broke across my face.

  Seven days.

  Chapter Four

  Ante

  Emilia

  "Ah, there you are, angel moy."

  My eyes fluttered open slowly, and I grimaced against the bright light cascading in from the large windows in the middle of the room. My vision focused on the breathtaking man sitting on the edge of the bed, holding my hand gently in his grip. My body felt like lead, but I smiled gently at my friend and bodyguard.

  "Zak. You're beautiful."

  The tall, lean man chuckled, his full lips twitching into a lopsided grin. He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses further onto his nose with long, beautiful fingers and squeezed my hand a tad harder. Eyes the color of deep amber gazed down on me, landing on the bandage I still felt against my throat. Zakhar gave a long sigh and pushed his shoulder length black hair away from his face.

  "Angel, you have been foolish with your body. I will warn you now that the Pakhan is not pleased with your carelessness."

  I turned my head from the beautiful vision of Zakhar and looked around the familiar, plush room. It had been my prison for the past year, and yet I couldn't deny the modicum of comfort I felt at being back. I took a deep breath in, smelling the cedar from the wood that the Pakhan preferred to decorate his home with, and grimaced with pain as I tried to swallow.