Nadya's Nights: Road to Vengeance (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Reunion

After Cyrus finished bandaging her wounds, Nadya managed to fall into a thankfully dreamless sleep.  She remained on the couch much like she had been, with the shirt pulled over her and buttoned up.  She hadn’t dared try to roll onto her back – or even her side – since the lash marks were still plenty tender.  Her head rested on her arms crossed in front of her, only now her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and steady.  Her skin was quite pale from the blood loss she’d sustained.  The majority of the wounds she’d sustained were more or less superficial, and aside from some particularly nasty scars across her back, she’d heal up nicely.

An indeterminate amount of time later for Nadya, a hand pressed against her shoulder.  She awoke suddenly and – if not for her weakness – would have probably broken the hand that had been laid upon her.  Instead, her eyes fluttered open and she looked up to the figure standing over her.  Blinking the residual sleep from her eyes and forcing them to focus, she recognized the figure as Cyrus.  Her first thoughts were of Ulbrecht and the cure.

“Ulbrecht?”

Cyrus shook his head, taking his hand off her shoulder, noticing that the touch was making her uncomfortable.  “He’s sleeping.  Things are progressing as best as they could be, under the circumstances.”  He nodded back to the front door.  “There are some people here.  I thought you’d want to know.”

Alarm bells sounded in Nadya’s head.

Had Remy returned with a group of his werewolf pals with the intention of storming the mansion and dragging her back out to finish the job he’d started?

If that were the case, she imagined she wouldn’t have gotten such a calm wake-up call.  Then her mind flashed to Vladimir.  If he’d found her, the results might be just as bad.

“What do they look like?” she asked, a bit of an edge to her voice.

“Professionals,” Cyrus replied simply.  “Do you want me to go see what they want?”

“No,” Nadya replied firmly, pushing herself up.

During her short rest, her body had stiffened up, adding to her already abundant aches and pains.  She winced as she forced herself up into a sitting position.  “I’ll deal with it.”

She reached for the pants he’d brought out for her but figured it wasn’t worth it.  It was bad enough she was half crippled with pain; she didn’t want to have to be using one hand to keep her pants up.  “I left a gun on your balcony.  Get it for me.”

Cyrus didn’t look happy about it, but he left to retrieve her pistol anyway.  Sitting up straighter on the couch, Nadya tried to force at least some of the pain away, but it didn’t seem to work too well.  When Cyrus returned with the gun, she took it from him and rose to her feet.  She almost fell back onto the couch when she tried, but Cyrus was fast to take hold of her and help her get steadied.  “Are you sure?”

“Hundred percent,” she responded, making her voice seem strong if nothing else.  “If it is who I think it is, they won’t give a shit about what you’ve got to say.”

Pushing away from him, she managed to remain standing on her own.  Gripping the gun tightly in one hand, she started for the door, limping slightly.  Whatever energy the short rest had helped to restore in her was quickly being sapped.  Still, she wasn’t about to let that stop her from facing the music, regardless of how things turned out.  She gripped the door handle and opened it, stepping outside.

The cool night air brushed against her.  Her hair fluttered across her forehead.  The breeze helped to refresh her a bit.  Heading down the path to the front gate, she tried to prepare herself for anything, including an unceremonious execution.

Walking down the path to the main gate, she caught sight of a group of people standing on the other side, just outside their cars.  Moving closer, she caught the familiar sight of Vladimir.  Beside him was Sven, which made her glad.  She’d been worried about him catching hell for letting her escape with Ulbrecht.

Approaching the gate, Nadya stopped before it.  She saw guns, but none of them were drawn.  The grip she had on her own weapon relaxed slightly and she kept it at her side.  She felt ridiculous in a pair of boxers and a shirt about three sizes too large for her, but it was better than the alternative.

She nodded to Vlad, trying to look as strong and tough as possible.  “I guess you found me,” she said.

It was hard to read Vladimir’s face to determine if he was glad to see her, or extremely pissed off at her.  Nadya imagined it was a bit of both.  “The werewolf?” he asked, simply.

She gave a brief shake of her head.  “He’s not a werewolf yet,” she replied.  “And that’s something I’m working to keep from happening, which was the only goal I had when I left.  Like I said then, regardless of the outcome, one way or another, it will be dealt with.”  She took a step closer to the gate, her eyes glaring into Vladimir’s.  “But there is one thing that will not fucking happen, and that’s me letting you in here to take him back to your little aquarium to watch him turn and try to subdue him.  You and I both know that’ll never work… and I’ve seen what happens to the failures.  That’s not going to happen to Ulbrecht.  Not while I’m alive, anyway.  So, do what you have to.”

Vladimir looked slightly hurt by her words.  “I’m not here to kill you, Nadezhda,” he said.  “What’s happened to you?”

Managing a smirk, Nadya felt a tinge of relief at his words.  “It’s been a long fucking night…” was the only explanation she gave to him.  “The car should be just outside there with you.  I’d offer you the key, but I misplaced it somewhere.”  She imagined it was still in the pocket of her pants back at that hellhole Remy had taken her to, unless Ulbrecht and Cyrus had retrieved them for her.  Either way, she didn’t have the key on her and she wasn’t sure where it was.

Vlad gave her a smile.  “That’s alright.  I’ve got a spare.”

“Well, then, you can take it back with you,” she said.  “I’m done with it now.  There should still be some gas left.  Sorry I couldn’t return it with a full tank.”  She could feel her body growing weaker by the moment; her already limited amount of energy waned rapidly.

Reaching into his pocket, Vladimir pulled out a key identical to the one he’d handed over to her earlier in the night.  He extended it to her through the bars of the gate.  “Why don’t you hang onto it for a while?  You seem to be taking good care of it.  You can return it when you’re through here.”

Nadya felt as much of a spike of happiness as her body could muster in its current state.  He hadn’t come right out and told her she was welcome back, but he might as well have, and that lifted a great weight from her shoulders.

Reaching forward, she took the key from him and gave a nod.  “I can do that.  You might also want to keep an eye out for a vampire.  I didn’t kill that werewolf from last night dead enough, which is the main reason I look like complete and utter shit right now.  He seems to have an infatuation with me, but I wouldn’t put it past him to go after you, too.  So keep an eye out.”

Vlad nodded.  “I will.  Do you want me to leave some men here with you?”

Nadya shook her head wearily.  “No, but if you could send some decent weapons to kill the fucker with, it would be much appreciated.”

“That, I can definitely do,” he said.  “They’ll be here by tomorrow night.  I only ask that you get some rest.”  He reached to his back pocket and pulled out a wallet, opening it up and pulling out a fairly large number of high-marked bills.  He passed them through the gate as well.  “So you can get the tank filled.”

Nadya took the money and forced a smile.  “The Maserati thanks you,” she said.  “Have a safe trip back.”  She turned and started back towards the mansion, needing desperately to get off her feet.  She heard Vladimir and his men getting back in their cars behind her and a few moments later engines revving up.

Despite all the shit she’d been through over the course of the night, things hadn’t turned out as badly as they could have.  She could hear the sounds of birds chirping off in the distance somewhere and figured morning couldn’t be too far away.

Entering the mansion, she found Cyrus waiting for her.  “Well?  What was that about?”

“Employer.  Checking up on me,” she said, handing the car key and money over to him as a wave of dizziness flowed over her.  “Just wanted to make sure I was alright.”  The dizziness and weakness overcame her, causing her to black out, her body dropping to the floor.

NIGHT THREE:

Settling Scores

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Re-Armed

Another night was upon Nadezhda Valentina and as far as she knew, it could very well be her last.

She sat at Cyrus’s dining table with a large steel case open in front of her.  Another case was still closed and set beside her on the floor, along with a long, narrow cylindrical container.  From the open case, she’d removed several items.

There had been a pair of Glock 29’s, which she’d set aside for the moment.  She took out several clips for the pistols, filled with silver bullets.  Picking up one of the handguns, she slammed a clip into it and racked the slide before engaging the safety and setting it back down.  She did the same to the second pistol and set it beside the first.  She found an ammo belt in the case and slipped the remaining clips into it.

With the first case empty, Nadya closed it up and set it aside, pulling up the second one.  Her fingers pressed against the clips holding the case closed and they flipped open.  Lifting the lid up, she spotted a sleek Heckler & Koch MP7.

Taking it out, she checked to make sure it wasn’t loaded then pulled a forty-round magazine from the case and inserted it into the weapon.  Setting the MP7 down onto the table, she pulled out several more magazines from the case.  There was an ammo bandolier as well, which she slipped the magazines into before sliding it over her head.

Once the second case had been emptied out, she picked up the long cylindrical case.  Taking hold of it, she unscrewed the top half of it and slid it off.

Inside was a katana.

Nadya had developed an interest in Japanese Samurai when she’d found Vladimir’s collection of Akira Kurosawa movies.  Seeing her interest, Vlad had made some calls and flew an authentic Kensei to the compound to train her in the weapons and techniques of the Samurai.

Over the course of six years, Nadya had become quite adept at using the blade.

She drew the weapon out of the case it rested in.  Pulling the sheath off, she examined it.  It was beautifully crafted and – like the bullets – was coated with silver, making it a very useful weapon for hunting either werewolves or vampires.

As far as she knew, she’d be after both.  Remy might have made the switch over to being a bloodsucker, but he still had werewolf friends.  Any of the bastards that stood in her way wouldn’t be around long enough to cause anyone else any trouble.  And she wasn’t about to leave any of them with their heads attached to come back as vengeful vampires.

She’d made that mistake once, and that was enough.

Standing up from the table, Nadya tested the weight of the sword, giving it a few swipes.  It felt good.

Sliding the blade back into its sheath, she set it on the table.  Grabbing a double shoulder holster, she slid it on and adjusted it before depositing the two pistols into it.  She brought the ammo belt around her waist and snapped it together before taking out a thigh holster for the MP7.  Once it rested snuggly against her leg, she picked up the katana and slid it into the ammo belt so that it rest in the proper position to draw it smoothly and easily.

Nadya took a couple laps around the long table, getting used to the weight of the weapons.  Her body still throbbed from the damage she’d taken the previous two nights, but a good deal of rest and a fair amount of painkillers had dulled the aches and made it possible for her to move around without wincing.

She test drew her weapons, seeing how fast she could get the weapons out of their holsters and ready to fire.  The firearms were no problem, but the sword proved to be a bit tricky.  That wasn’t a huge problem; she planned on using it to dismember any werewolves she took down.

That and, quite possibly, on Remy, to prolong his pain before she killed him.  She could think of quite a few things she’d like to cut off of him, given the chance, but she wasn’t going to let her revenge cloud her judgment.  If she had to make his death quick to keep herself alive, she’d do it. 
I may be prepared to die to kill Remy, but all things being equal, I’d rather not.

There are far better reasons to die than him.

Hearing footsteps behind her, Nadya turned swiftly, drawing one of her side arms and aiming it at the figure that had disturbed her.

Cyrus stopped in his tracks but didn’t seem alarmed.  Instead, he narrowed his eyes at her.  “I don’t appreciate having guns pointed at me.”

Nadya couldn’t help smirking at him before holstering the weapon.  “Sorry.  Just testing myself.”  She turned to the open cases, now emptied of their contents.  She closed them up.  “Ulbrecht?” she asked, not needing to expand any further to let him know what she was talking about.

“He’s fine.  He’s sleeping.”  Cyrus crossed his arms at his chest.  “He’s also not the one I’m worried about.”

Nadya finished closing up the cases and turned to face him.  He still didn’t look very pleased.  “You haven’t even known me a day.  I broke into your house, forced you to treat my friend, and got a demented bloodsucker pissed at you.  Don’t tell me you care what happens to me.”

“You’d rather I say good luck and don’t come dragging your half-dead ass back here?”

“More or less,” she replied.  “You might not believe me when I say it, all things considered, but this does not, in fact, concern you.  It’s between me and that cocksucker who tortured me.  If you say you want to help then my reply is fuck you.”

Cyrus lifted an eyebrow at her.  “That’s not a very kind response to an offer of assistance.”

“My response is fuck you because you’re already providing all the help you can and all the help I require,” Nadya continued.  “Your job is to make sure Ulbrecht is safe and that he doesn’t become a monster that I’ll have to kill.  That’s your job.  If Remy sends any of his friends here then it’ll be your job to deal with them.  Other than that, the best way you can help me is by staying the fuck out of my way.  Clear?”

Cyrus was silent for a few moments, considering her words before he gave her a nod.  “Alright, then.  Good luck.  And if you have to, you can drag your half-dead ass back here.”

A bittersweet smile formed on Nadya’s face.  “Thanks.  I wouldn’t worry about that second part.  Once I leave, I don’t think you’ll be seeing me again.”  She saw the look of concern on Cyrus’s face and spoke up again before he had a chance to say anything.  “No, I’m not planning on getting myself killed.  I just won’t be back.”

“What about Ulbrecht?”

Nadya looked down, fiddling with her ammo bandolier.  “Way I figure it… if I don’t know whether or not the cure took, I’ll just assume it did.  As long as he doesn’t cause trouble for my boss, it shouldn’t be an issue.  Either way, I’m sure you can make sure he won’t.”

Cyrus nodded but she could tell he was going to say something anyway.  “He cares about you.  You do realize that?  You care about him, too, obviously.  Otherwise you wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble to keep him from turning.”

A brief wave of conflicting emotions moved through Nadya.  Her feelings for Ulbrecht – which she wasn’t even positive she could define properly – mixed with anger and embarrassment at having someone else telling her about them.  The concoction resulted in a rather odd expression, but only for a moment before her face went cool again, pushing away all those feelings and taping into the assassin side of her.

“I owed him.  He saved my life, so I returned the favor.  That’s all.”  She could tell Cyrus wasn’t convinced with her response and that helped flare her anger.  “I’ll be leaving now.”  She headed past Cyrus towards the front door.

“You’ll be back.”

Cyrus’s words – so full of confidence – angered Nadya even more, but she didn’t reply.  Instead, she opened the door and walked out, shutting it hard behind her.

As she headed for the Maserati, she tried to force the anger away, or at least transfer it to Remy.  It was difficult.  Despite every urge and rational thought she had to never come back or set eyes on Ulbrecht again, somehow she knew Cyrus was right.

She would be back.