18. OLIVIA
OLIVIA
Even planes had basements.
As soon as I realized where he was taking me, my body started to resist. I dragged my heels. Tugged on his hand. He gave me a warning look that reminded me exactly what was at stake. Behave, or they die.
So I forced myself to go along. It went against every instinct I had.
The cargo hold wasn’t supposed to be accessible mid-flight.
For good reason. It was bone-chillingly cold.
Even though it was pressurized, it wasn’t designed for comfort.
My breath ghosted out in front of me as we climbed down the ladder.
The morbid part of my brain imagined it was tiny fragments of my soul leaving my body.
Sometimes my brain could be a real bitch.
It was obvious my captor had a destination in mind.
He dragged me around the huge aluminum luggage containers, each one weighing over a ton.
My brain was on a roll and decided to provide me with a fun little girl-crushed-to-death production.
It was only marginally better than girl-pushed-out-of-plane-at-thirty-five-thousand-feet.
“Where are we going?” I asked in a nervous puff. My heels clicked ominously on the cold metal floor.
He ignored me. He was obviously still pissy about the whole tasering thing. I couldn’t help but feel smug about it. Even if I was going to pay for it now.
He jerked me to a stop at a small gap between two of the girl-crushing containers. Then he shoved me between them and pulled out a zip tie from his pocket.
“Y-You don’t have to do that,” I chattered, tucking my hands behind me. “It’s not l-like I can go anywhere.”
His hand shoved me back against the container. I yelped, startled. Then I froze when he moved in, pressing his huge body against me. “I am not allowed to kill you,” he said, each word puffing white over my face. “But I am allowed to hurt you.”
Girl crushed by giant oaf.
Nope.
Grinding my teeth, I extended my hands obediently. His satisfaction was sickening as he bound them together so tight that my fingers instantly tingled.
He pointed to the floor, and I sank down, wincing when my bare skin touched the ice-cold metal.
“W-What now?” I asked him.
With that same sausage finger, he pointed at my head. “You stay.”
Then he walked out of sight, unnervingly silent. I knew he hadn’t left. I looked around, shivering. In a movie, there was always a plan B. An escape plan. I wished I was the kind of scrappy girl who could MacGyver her way out of a shitty situation with a shoelace and a paperclip.
My heart sank hopelessly.
If I survived the next seven hours, I was definitely boning up. I’d sign up for self-defense classes. Learn how to shoot a gun.
And therapy. Lots more therapy.
When the big man returned, I jumped, startled at his sudden appearance. He was carrying six backpacks, which he tossed onto the ground.
I had a very bad feeling.
“Are those…parachutes?” I asked in a small voice.
His answering grin was barbaric.
Oh god.
No friggen way.
I wasn’t scared of heights. I was top of the pyramid for three years running. But that didn’t mean I was prepared to jump mid-flight from the largest commercial airliner ever built.
That was some serious MacGyver shit.
“Listen,” I tried, pleadingly. “You’ve got the wrong girl. I’m nobody.”
He cocked his head like I’d spoken in tongues. “Nobody?”
“Nobody,” I repeated fiercely. “This is all just a weird misunderstanding. If you let me go, I’ll let you go. I won’t say anything, I swear.”
He continued to stare at me like I’d sprouted two heads and started to tap dance. Then his face hardened, and he snarled. “You are trying to trick me.”
“No, I swear.”
“Yes,” he hissed, charging toward me. “You are just like her. You think everyone around you is a fool.”
Who the hell was he talking about?
But I’d clearly triggered him. “Women who lie should be punished. They should be reminded of their place.”
Rearing back, I raised my bound hands in front of me protectively. Fear bolted through me. “W-Wait,” I stuttered.
He raised his huge club fist. I closed my eyes, bracing for the blow.
“Ken. Yame-te.”
The big man froze, then quickly snapped to attention like a soldier. He turned and bowed. “Apologies, Kuro.”
A striking man in a dark green suit strolled into view. His demeanor was calm as he took in the scene. When his attention fixed on me, I felt like a deer caught in headlights.
The hunter approached me.
I scrambled back as far as I could, which wasn’t far at all. My back hit the container, cold and unrelenting.
“Olivia,” the man said with a sigh, like we were lovers reuniting. The familiarity of it shocked me. I was certain we’d never met before. I’d remember him and that thin, disconcerting smile.
“W-Who are you?” I demanded.
“You can call me Kuro.” He unbuttoned his suit jacket and crouched down, so we were eye-level. It didn’t even the playing field. His movements were graceful, yet predatory, in a way I’d only seen on one other person.
But I didn’t want to think about Madoc.
“You and your little Crows have made quite a mess,” Kuro said, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “I do not like messes.” He lifted his hand, flexing his fingers. My eyes zeroed in on the ring.
I’d seen that ring before.
Wait.
His eyes gleamed in wicked amusement as my mouth parted in disbelief. If it wasn’t so cold, I imagined steam would be billowing out of my ears.
Julie was a Viper?
“What do you want from me?” I bit out angrily. “Like I t-told Shrek over there, you’ve made a mistake.”
The man laughed. Then he reached into his jacket. My breath caught in my throat. When he withdrew, I caught a flash of silver.
A gimlet knife.
It was small but undeniably sharp. A tiny surgical instrument, ready to slice away my false bravado one cut at a time.
I flinched back, heart pounding in my throat. He struck quickly, precisely.
The zip tie snapped clean.
Confused, I looked down at my wrists, expecting a gush of blood. Or, like, a severed finger. There was nothing but my cold, blue hands, stinging as the nerves regained feeling.
Kuro looked amused at my reaction. “I’m not going to hurt you, Olivia. I want us to get along. It will make things far less complicated.”
Knotting my frozen fingers together, I watched him suspiciously. “What do you want?”
“The prototype.”
“I don’t have it.”
“No, you don’t,” he agreed, flipping the gimlet knife between his fingers. “You asked me what I wanted. I want many things. The prototype. And you. Ah.” He pressed a finger to my lips before I could interject. “As I told Jax, I cannot reveal all the secrets.”
I glared at him until he smirked and removed his finger.
“Can you give me one secret?” I muttered bitterly.
My eyes watched the knife hawkishly as it traded hands.
Then he paused, as if considering it. “One secret,” he mused. “I suppose I can give you that. In exchange for your cooperation.”
I scoffed. “No secret is worth me jumping out of this fucking plane.”
His smile widened. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
He stood suddenly, making me flinch in alarm. I also stood but more slowly, shooting a wary look at the big man standing guard behind him.
I couldn’t fight one Viper, much less two. And something told me Kuro was the one I should fear the most, even if he was proving to be a giant gossip.
“You know who I work for,” Kuro said.
“Dr. Z.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not a secret.”
He turned to me, shaking his head. The knife was gone, but that didn’t soothe my anxiety. I edged myself further back, away from him and his attack dog.
“And I know the man who owns you,” Kuro said, sounding delighted by the knowledge. Owning human beings was a common practice in Dr. Z’s crime syndicate. He ran many sordid operations, including the trafficking ring that had kidnapped Molly.
But he wasn’t talking about Dr Z.
“Preacher doesn’t own me,” I said. But the doubt in my voice betrayed me.
“Just because he doesn’t put you in chains doesn’t mean you are not enslaved.”
Something in my face made his smile widen with satisfaction. He was toying with me. I knew he was.
So why was I hanging from his every word?
“Have you ever wondered why?”
I edged back a little further, not that I had anywhere to escape. The distance was a fake comfort, like holding a knife in a gunfight. “Why what?” I asked.
“Why he took you.”
“Preacher didn’t take me. I found him.”
Kuro laughed. It was a deep, dark sound that made me shiver for a whole different reason.
“Is that what you think?” he asked once he’d recovered. “Oh, you poor child. You are playing with thieves and killers, and still, you are led blind to the slaughter.”
The plane jolted suddenly, as if it hit a mid-air pothole. I stumbled, grabbing onto the nearest container. Typically, neither of the Vipers moved an inch.
Stupid, graceful, rambling killers.
“You do not find men like them,” Kuro said, his voice dropping. “They find you. And Preacher found you for a reason, even if he led you to believe otherwise.”
I shook my head, thinking back. When Molly disappeared, I’d spent months hounding the police, staking out her last known locations, and speaking to everyone she knew. All of them led to dead ends except…
Except when I got that call from that police officer that I’d bribed for information. A dirty cop, with apparently dirty connections.
“I know someone,” he’d told me quietly. “He can help you find your sister.”
I’d jotted down the address and driven over to the church the next day.
Had Preacher been surprised to see me? I couldn’t remember. I’d been so blindsided by his whole schtick—the white suit and giant, bedazzled cross and the smooth, British accent. Then it was his sincerity when I explained my situation, his willingness to help when no one else could.
Oh god.
What if it had been planned? A giant setup?
But why?
I was nobody to him. I had money, but he had more. I wasn’t a trained killer. I wasn’t a thief. I could barely swindle a man into handing over his watch without nearly being raped and killed.
I was useless, because I was normal.
“Why?” I whispered, hating myself for playing into the game. “Why would he want me?”
Kuro stepped forward, looking every bit the snake that he was. “Are you ready for that secret now?”
No, my heart whispered.
Once I knew, there would be no going back.
Maybe it was already too late.
“Tell me,” I rasped.
He smiled. “What do you know of The Duchess?”