Chapter 3 Dimitri #2
He smiled and offered her his hand. "I'm Dimitri. This is Dr. Petrov." He gestured toward his companion, who was staring at the bottom of his empty glass as if expecting it to magically refill itself. "We work in the lab. Classified research."
Why was he telling her this? What did he hope to accomplish? She was a barmaid, but she was a prisoner on this island, just like the women in the brothel. Was she even permitted to interact with him?
He didn't want to get her in trouble.
Something in her eyes made him want to try anyway. A spark of intelligence beneath the timidity. A flicker of something that hadn't been completely extinguished.
"Is that an Australian accent?" he asked.
She nodded, and a hint of a smile ghosted over her lips. "And yours is Russian."
"It is. How did you end up here?"
The fear in her eyes made him immediately regret the question.
Of course, she didn't want to talk about how she'd gotten here.
No one ended up here voluntarily. Except for the guests and someone like him, who had accepted a devil's bargain, everyone else had either been born on this godforsaken island or trafficked.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "You don't have to answer that. I know how most people end up here."
Mattie studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "You were also stolen away?" she asked so quietly that he could barely make out the words.
"I came voluntarily, but since the alternative was rotting away in a Siberian prison, I thought that a tropical island would be an improvement."
The truth was that he hadn't known he was heading to an island in the Indian Ocean. All he'd been told was that Dr. Konstantin Petrov had pulled some strings to get him out because he needed his help on a classified project.
Dimitri had jumped at the offer without giving a second thought to what he was getting himself into. Anything was better than a gulag in Siberia, and he was saying this even after realizing where he'd landed and what was required of him.
"Why were you in prison?" she asked.
Naturally, she assumed that he'd been punished for something illegal that he had done.
"I was involved in research that was supposed to be highly confidential, and I operated under the guidelines I'd been given.
But when you are just a cog in the machine, and those in power decide that something doesn't look good for them, or that something might make them look even better, they sacrifice you without giving it a second thought.
" He affected a smile. "Often, those in power get there because they are sociopaths who do not care about the dead bodies they use as stepping-stones to reach their goals. "
Catching the commanders who were sitting against the back wall glance his way, Dimitri realized that he'd spoken too loudly, but since he had been speaking in generalities and not targeting them or their leaders, he shouldn't worry too much about them overhearing him.
Mattie nodded. "I know what you mean." She glanced at the immortals, and her expression turned fearful. "We just do what we can to survive, right?"
"Yes, Mattie. That's what we have to do."
"I'll get the drink," she said, and slipped away before he could say anything else.
Petrov watched her go, his gaze lingering on places it shouldn't. "You're wasting your time, you know. She's not going to sleep with you just because you're nice to her."
"That's not what I'm after."
"Oh no?" Petrov's smile was knowing. "Then you must be after intellectual stimulation with little Mattie from Australia."
"Of course." Dimitri affected a big, fake smile. "Can't get enough of that out here, now, can we?"
Petrov laughed. "No, we can't." He leaned over and clapped Dimitri on his back. "Good luck, my young friend. I hope you find what you are looking for with the pretty waitress."
Mattie returned with Petrov's vodka and Dimitri's whiskey, even though he hadn't ordered it.
"Thank you," he said. "For the drink I didn't order."
The ghost of a smile flickered across her lips. "You looked like you could use one."
Before he could respond, she was gone again, walking up to another table. Dimitri watched her go, noting the way she flinched when one of the immortals grabbed her wrist and the way she pulled free with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"I'm going to the brothel," Petrov announced after downing his drink. "Are you coming?" He pushed back from the table.
Dimitri shook his head. "No, thank you. I prefer the company of my right hand to taking advantage of drugged women."
"Suit yourself." Petrov ignored the jibe.
"They have no choice but to offer their services, and if you don't partake, others will.
It makes as much sense as abstaining from eating beef because you feel sorry for the poor cows.
It doesn't matter because someone else is going to eat them, and your sacrifice will be worthless. "
It was such a crude comparison that Dimitri didn't want to comment, but he couldn't help it. "It's worthwhile to me. At least I can go to sleep at night with a clear conscience."
Petrov laughed, a deep belly laugh that made his middle shake and wobble. "You are so funny, Dimitri. Can you really sleep with nothing on your damn conscience? Talk about disconnect from reality."
He was right.
Some of the things Dimitri had worked on before getting here still haunted his dreams. But everyone had their line in the sand, and the brothel was his.
He'd gone once, expecting something sleazy but consensual, women who had chosen to sell their bodies making the best of a bad situation.
What he'd found had been disturbing.
The women had looked willing enough, smiling and beckoning and saying all the right things, but their eyes had been glassy and unfocused, and they were too thin to be healthy.
They'd been drugged out of their minds, pumped full of chemicals that loosened their inhibitions and numbed them to the horror of the situation they found themselves in.
He'd left without touching anyone. He'd walked back to his room and stood in the shower for an hour, trying to wash away the feeling of slime coating his skin.
Dimitri couldn't understand how any man could take pleasure in that place. The level of moral decay required to enjoy the violation of drugged, abducted women--women trapped in waking nightmares--was beyond his comprehension.
Petrov went nearly every night, skipping it only when he collapsed from drinking himself into a stupor.
Dimitri tried not to think about what that said about his mentor.
Mattie returned to their table to collect Petrov's empty glass. "Did your friend leave or is he coming back?"
"He retired for the night," Dimitri said.
"I see."
The way she said it, the flinch she couldn't quite hide, stirred something in Dimitri's chest. A protective instinct he had never experienced before.
He was an only child, so protecting siblings had never been something he'd needed to do, and his parents had never needed his protection.
They were party operators who had left him to rot in that prison because he had turned persona non grata through no fault of his own, and they hadn't wanted to be associated with him since.
Not that the protective instinct had anywhere to go. He couldn't shield Mattie from the ugliness of this place or stand between her and the immortal males who could take advantage of her if they wanted to.
Humans on the island had no rights, and women were the most vulnerable. Even though Mattie didn't work in the brothel, she would be forced to comply.
He was almost as powerless as she was, or maybe even more so because he was also forced to do Dave's bidding. When he finally found a way to shake off Dave's compulsion, maybe he could do something to help her.
The question was, what?