Weather the Storm (Security Specialists International #3) (37 page)

Vanko snorted back a laugh when Andy muttered, “Fucking cake walk, Petriv.” Then Vanko followed Jose, keeping enough distance between them in case he slipped on the damp rock path. The waterfall was adjacent to the rocky path, separated by only a matter of one or two feet. The spray felt good against his sweaty skin, but the noise of the falls blocked all other sounds. A unit of bad guys could be sneaking up on them and he wouldn’t hear them.

His battle awareness told him the other men were also hyper-alert to the danger, and he relaxed. Only Jose seemed unconcerned, but Vanko had the kid’s back. All would be well, and soon he’d be with Elana.

* * * *

Elana finished off the beef pasty Rosa had handed her. She reached for a piece of banana. Even with the cool spray of the waterfall, she was hot and achy. Her fever had returned.
Great
. She hoped it was a cold and not an infection in her wound.

“Rosa?”

The young girl turned from her lookout position at the entrance to the cave “Yes, senorita.”

“Do you have any aspirin or something for a fever in those bags?” She brushed her fingers over her forehead as if she could rub away the pounding headache. She shivered as chills traveled over her body in waves. “I’m not feeling well.”

Abandoning her post, Rosa rushed to her and touched Elana’s forehead. “You are burning up. I give you aspirin, yes?”

“That would be good. Thank you.” Elana leaned her head against the rock wall and pulled the blanket Rosa had given her around her shoulders. She took the tablets when offered, followed by a drink of the cola, and sighed. Soon she’d be safe with Vanko, and he’d take care of her. No one had ever taken as good of care of her as Vanko had since he’d picked her up in D.C. Crocker kidnapping her in Pennsylvania hadn’t been Vanko’s fault, though knowing her man, he’d have blamed himself. She’d correct that misassumption if he ever said as much.

“Rosa!” A Russian-accented voice echoed off the hill surrounding the grotto. “Answer me, little one.”

Elana shielded the lantern, throwing the small cavern into relative darkness. Only the moonlight coming through the waterfall illuminated the two women. Rosa gasped and made a move toward the exit from behind the waterfall. She grabbed Rosa’s arm and whispered, “No. Don’t.”

“Stay here.” Rosa shrugged off Elana’s hand. “I will lead him away. He won’t hurt me.”

“No, Rosa…” But her protest went nowhere. Rosa was already gone.

Elana moved to the edge of the waterfall and peered through it where the water was more spray than anything. Zivon stood at the far end of the grotto, his gaze fixed on Rosa who ran into his arms.

Zivon lifted the young girl by her upper arms and shook her like a rag doll. “Where is she?” he yelled. “Where is Sergei’s woman?”

His last words were uttered in a lower, growling tone, but the acoustics of the area amplified sound and allowed Elana to hear their words, even above the sound of the falls, as if she stood next to them.

“Ziv!” Rosa cried out. The bastard had hurt her.

“Where is she?” Zivon crushed Rosa to his chest with one arm holding her as if she weighed nothing. His free hand circled her throat.

Elana rubbed at her larynx in reflex, recalling how twelve years ago he’d choked her the same way.

“Jose took her away.” Rosa’s voice was high and squeaky. “She’s gone. We can leave also. Please? You promised.”

“Stupid child.” Zivon threw her to the rocky ground surrounding the jungle pool and then kicked her. Rosa’s cry of pain echoed in the glade and made Elana’s stomach clench.

“I will never leave Sergei. He is my brother. My friend.” Zivon bent over and picked her up and surrounded her throat once more with his hand and squeezed. “Where did Jose take her?”

“To…her…man.” Rosa gasped out the words as she tried to pry his fingers off her neck. “Please…hurting me.”

Zivon’s only answer was to crush her against his chest until Rosa hung limply from his arm.

Oh, God. He’s killing her.
Elana couldn’t stand there and watch Zivon murder Rosa. She prayed Jose had found the others and they were on their way back.

“Stop it, Zivon.” Elana scrambled from behind the waterfall and down the sloping path, and then stopped with the expanse of the water between them. “Leave Rosa alone.”

Zivon dropped Rosa. The girl fell to the ground, curled into a ball, and lay there gasping for breath.

“Stay where you are, Elana,” Zivon ordered. “I will come to you.”

Nope, don’t want that. He gives me the creeps. Like the Terminator.

His gaze searched the area, she assumed for signs of a trap. “You are still weak from the drug I gave you and your wound. Sergei is worried sick.”

“Oh, please…” Elana’s incipient hysteria came out as a sharp, abrupt laugh. “Worried? Sergei,” her tone was meant to be sarcastic, but her fear diluted the effect, “is a perverted killer. I could care less if he’s worried or not.”

Zivon’s stone face slipped a bit at her words and the anger in his dark eyes scared the shit out of her.

She pulled her knife and flicked open the switchblade and held it along her side.

Behind Zivon, who was focused solely on her, Rosa had gotten to her knees. The young girl quickly crawled into the nearby undergrowth and disappeared into the darkness. Seconds later, as Zivon stalked toward Elana, she heard Rosa move through the jungle and begin climbing up the hill where her brother had gone.

Good, the girl was out of the way and going for help. All Elana had to do was hold off Zivon for as long as it took for Vanko and the others to reach her.

Please God, make that soon.

“Don’t come any closer, Zivon.” Elana held up the knife. The blade glinted in the moonlight. He couldn’t miss seeing it. He was maybe fifteen feet away. But she mentioned it anyway. “I’ve got a knife—and am not going anywhere near Demidas again.”

“Be reasonable, Elana.” Zivon approached slowly, steadily, his hands out in front of him, palms up in a pacifying manner. “Sergei adores you. He will give you anything you desire. Treat you like a queen.”

Elana’s hand shook as a memory pierced her mind of the moment Demidas had taken her virginity. Zivon had held her to the bed for his boss. “You forgot how he hurt me the last time. How you helped him.” She could barely get the words out without sobbing, without choking at the memory of her pleading screams. “The bastard killed my parents,” she shrieked. Okay, she’d lost it. “I’d rather fuck the devil himself than let Sergei Demidas touch me.”

Her attention was so fixed on Zivon, she wasn’t aware that Demidas had entered the glade until he spoke. “Elana, you will put down the knife, and come to me now, or—”

“Or what?” she cried, turning in his direction at the other end of the grotto.
Ohgod, ohgod…he’s here. Too close. Too close.
“You’ll use your whip on me? Flay the skin off my back? Rape me? Is that treating me like a queen?”

Her knife hand trembling like an aspen in the wind, she shouted, “You killed my mama and my papa. In. Front. Of. Me.” She breathed heavily for several seconds in an attempt to regain control of her rampaging emotions. Finally, she managed to growl out, “So no, I’m not coming to you. I’ll kill myself first.”

With her defiant gaze fixed on her nemesis, she laid the blade against her throat, over the bandaged cuts made earlier. Would she use it? Could she? She wouldn’t know until the devil forced her hand.

Knife against her throat, Elana backed up against the side of the hill, next to the entrance to the caves behind the waterfall. She never took her eyes off Demidas as he stalked around the grotto; there was anger in each of his steps. He would hurt her. She whimpered.

Don’t let him. Get a spine.

Elana gasped as an arm circled her waist. A soaking wet Zivon grabbed her wrist and squeezed until she thought her bones would break. The pain was indescribable. When she could no longer feel her fingers, the knife fell to the rocky ground somewhere near their feet.

“Bring her to me, Ziv. Do not hurt her any more than you already have.” Demidas’s voice was triumphant and smug.

Zivon shifted her until he carried her in his arms like a baby.

“No! No! No!” She screamed and fought him, flailing her free arm, punching him, and scratching at his face, neck and arms. His hold was steely and unbreakable. Despair swept through her as he carried her closer and closer to her worst nightmare.

Don’t you dare give up. Vanko’s coming
.

Demidas held his arms out for her. “Give her to me. Get my yacht ready. We’re leaving now.”

Zivon handed her over.

Demidas cradled her against his chest. He cupped her bra-less breasts as he nuzzled her neck and inhaled deeply.

“Let me go.” She slapped at his head and gouged his skin while trying to shrink away from his touch.

“Do not fight me…do you wish me to punish you so soon after our reunion?”

Elana whimpered as his threats threw her back into the past when he’d followed through on such a threat. She gagged as she remembered the pain of having the bottoms of her feet beaten until bloody and her back whipped.

“Sergei,” Zivon said as he turned to go back toward the main house, “what about the men coming for her?”

“Our men will remain behind and kill them.” Demidas turned with Elana who still struggled with little success. “If these rescuers make it to the house, they will find an explosive surprise.”

“No!” Visions of Vanko’s body blown to bits gave birth to strengthening rage. She used the arm not trapped against his chest and punched Demidas in his windpipe with her stiffened fingers. She twisted and turned within his grasp like an eel on uppers and continued to punish and poke his throat with her fingers. The sounds coming out of her were those of an enraged animal.

Demidas dropped her as he clasped his throat and gasped for breath.

Elana fell to the soft loam on the jungle path. Frantically, she rolled away from the monster, ignoring the pain in her wounded side, and managed to get halfway to her butt and elbows.

Still choking, Demidas bent over and tried to grasp her ankle. She kicked at his groin. He grabbed at his balls with a gasping grunt.

With a shout of fury, Zivon ran back towards them. She cast one glance at Zivon’s face dark with rage and struggled to her feet, then ran.

“Come back here, bitch!” Zivon’s roar sounded close. Taking the time to look back would be stupid.

“Don’t let her get away, Ziv.” Demidas’s voice was harsh, raspy with pain, and choppy from the punch to the throat. God, he would hurt her, hurt her…

Stop thinking. Keep running.

The sound of Zivon’s big feet pounding on the rocky surfaces around the small pond came ever closer. This time she was sure he was approaching. She swore she could feel the ground vibrating.

Elana dug deep and put on more speed. But the footing was uneven and slippery.

Keep your eye on the goal, Ellie. Keep running.

Her gaze sought for and found the rope anchored to the side of the hill.

Every step away from Zivon and Demidas is one step closer to Vanko.

Jose had to have reached Vanko and the others by now. Heck, even Rosa could’ve reached them and told them about Zivon. They’d be coming for her as fast as they could.

Digging down even deeper, she managed to find another boost of adrenaline. But time wasn’t on her side. Even now she began to flag. Her breaths were choppy, the pain over her right hip was bordering on becoming a cramp, and her feet felt as if she slogged through quicksand, but she didn’t give up.

Ziv would take her back. Then Demidas would flay her skin from her bones after he’d first broken most of them. He’d rape her repeatedly in every orifice. She’d seen him punish a woman in just such a way during the three days she’d been with him before—his first wife’s screams still played a major part of her nightmares. A strange lethargy swept over her at the horrific memories.

No! Don’t think. Just run.

Forcibly, she thrust the dark thoughts to the back of her mind and let her survival instincts take over. Just as she was about to reach for the rope and begin to climb the steep hillside path, Ziv grabbed her blouse and pulled her around and flung her to the stony ground.

Elana managed to drop and roll rather than reach out to block her fall, saving her some broken wrist and arm bones in the process. But the jarring impact of her body hitting the ground sent shock waves straight to her wounded hip area. She screamed, spotted the glint of her knife and managed to keep rolling until she covered it. Lying on the cold damp rocks, she gasped for breath and slowly slid her right hand under her to grip the hilt of her knife. The blade was already locked in the open position.

As Ziv turned her over with a rough hand on her shoulder, she screamed and came up with the knife and stabbed him in the groin area. Then she pulled down and across, deeply into his thigh with the goal of doing as much damage as possible. Crocker’s knife was as sharp as it looked and slit through Zivon’s clothes and skin like butter. “Bleed, you fucker. Bleed!”

Ziv roared his pain and rage. He stumbled away from her, one hand cupping his severely mutilated groin, the other covering the deep knife wound in his thigh. Blood spurted out of the thigh to the same beat as his heart pumped. He weakened visibly with each movement of his body. Then he tripped over a rock and fell backwards into the grotto. He landed with a loud splash. He didn’t try to get out of the water, which turned red all around him.

A chill swept over Elana and she shivered convulsively. Her breathing labored. She lay frozen and stared for several seconds. Then she remembered the danger wasn’t over—Demidas was still mobile.

She tried to sit up, get up so she could run, but could only make it to her elbows before she fell back down onto her back. She stared at the moon and stars in the pre-dawn tropical sky and tried to find the energy to move, but she couldn’t. Her wound throbbed in time with a heavy metal beat. Her brain couldn’t get enough oxygen, and her stomach churned at the thought she’d killed a man. She looked at her right hand. Blood covered her fist as she gripped the equally gross knife. She forced her arm to the side, hiding her hand and the weapon from her sight.