Stolen: Dante’s Vow by Natasha Knight
Mara
“Let’s go,” the man who Felix called Gray says. “Pick him up. You,” he points to Matthaeus. “Lose your weapon.”
Gray is casually giving the orders. His soldiers have Matthaeus disarmed in a second.
“My man is dead,” Felix says after toeing the one Dante had been using as a shield. “What the fuck?”
“They’re both dead,” Matthaeus casually adds as he raises his arms in surrender to the one pointing his pistol at him. I can see the faint signs of a smile on his face. He appears so calm. Like he’s not fazed at all.
“Let’s go. Someone pick Grigori up.” A soldier hoists Dante over his shoulder with a grunt.
He knows Dante. What will that mean?
“The rest of your men?” Gray asks Matthaeus.
“What about them?”
“Tell them to stand down or I slit this one’s throat.”
“No!” I yell and Gray turns to me, the expression on his face different than I expect. This situation so reminiscent to the night I met Petrov but so very different.
“They’ll stand down,” Matthaeus says as we step out of the box. I find the corridor that was only slightly occupied just minutes ago full of men. They’re his men. Gray’s. And a glance at Felix tells me he wasn’t expecting this.
“I delivered,” Felix says to Gray, and I see his unease. He’s still no match for the people he deals with, and he knows it. “If you’ll deposit the second half of the payment I’ll be on my way.”
Gray gives him a dark look. “We’ll take care of it downstairs. You’ll come with me. Move.”
“Sir,” the soldier in charge nods and guides everyone out.
I remain where I am, unsure what to do, very aware of the dagger at my thigh but still powerless with Dante knocked out. Once Gray and I are the only two remaining he turns to me.
“Come,” he says, gesturing to the door. He keeps distance from me though.
I study him, trying to figure him out.
“You won’t be hurt anymore, Mara.”
I’m confused by him and his words. By the tone and his meaning.
He gestures once more to the door. I don’t have a choice, so I move through it and follow to where one of the men is holding the door open to the emergency stairwell.
It’s loud as we hurry down the concrete stairs, every sound echoing. I hold on to the railing and when we pass the ground floor entrance, we’re led through another door, one I hadn’t seen before. It’s smaller so most of the men have to duck through it. Once we’re through, several flashlights light our way. It’s dark and dank, smelling like water that’s been standing still too long. We keep going and ahead I can see the man carrying Dante, see Matthaeus behind him. Behind me is Gray looking unperturbed in his expensive suit, two more soldiers trail him. Every time I glance at him, I find him watching me.
The crowded corridor opens up a few minutes later, although it’s still dark in here, light is coming in from somewhere. A loud sound has me jumping as we get to a cavernous open space.
“Subway train,” Gray says.
Subway?
“The tunnels connect,” he clarifies as the man carrying Dante sets him down on an ancient looking bench against the wall. Matthaeus goes to him. He’s slumped over but moving.
I take a step toward them, but Gray catches my arm and I don’t even stop to think. It’s pure instinct I act on. I don’t think about Jericho’s words advising me to choose my moment. I don’t think about all the soldiers with their guns around me. I don’t care about any of it. I need to get to Dante. That’s all.
So I slip my hand through the slit of my dress and take hold of the dagger strapped to my thigh. I pull it out of its holster and brandish it between us.
“Let me go. Now.”
I expect every weapon in the place to be cocked and turned on me. I maybe even expect to get shot. But that doesn’t happen. In fact, none of the soldiers make a move.
Gray never takes his eyes from me. “You’re not a prisoner,” he says and does the strangest thing. He lets go of my arm. Surprising, because I expected a fight. I’m sure I’d be easy to disarm. But as soon as I’m free I hurry toward Dante and Matthaeus. I crouch down in front of him keeping hold of the blade as I touch the bloody spot on his temple.
“Dante?”
He groans, and a moment later he’s looking into my eyes and I’m so relieved. It’s stupid I know because we are not out of this mess or even close to it. But he’s alive and he’s here and it’s all I can think about.
I reach my arms around him, and he wraps one of his around me. Standing, he moves in front of me. He’s not quite steady. I can see it. But he’s determined.
Matthaeus stands too and I try to move around Dante but he’s blocking me with his arm.
“Well, this is very cozy, but I’d just like to get paid and be on my way,” Felix says with a forced laugh as he steps toward Gray.
One of Gray’s men cocks his gun and points it at Felix’s temple. Felix comes to a stop, all the color draining from his face.
I tighten the grip on the dagger, my palm sweaty. Quietly, I slip off my shoes, the ground cold and grimy beneath my bare feet.
Gray studies me, then Dante. Dante is watching him with a curiosity that has me wondering what he knows that I don’t.
Felix clears his throat and Gray turns to him. “You want to get paid you little piece of shit?” he asks, stepping toward him.
I follow Felix’s nervous gaze and I think we realize at the same time that all of his soldiers are gone.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
Gray stops a few steps in front of him and looks him over with contempt.
“Money back?” he asks.
Felix looks confused but I see one of Gray’s men punching something into a phone. “Yes, sir,” that man answers.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Felix asks, shifting his gaze to his phone, typing frantically and muttering curses as he does. He then looks up at Gray. “You mother fucker.”
Gray barely acknowledges him, and it feels like the longer I study him, the more disgusted he grows, the more contemptuous toward Felix.
“Did he touch you?” he asks, never taking his eyes off Felix.
I know he’s talking to me, but I can’t answer. I’m too shocked at this strange turn of events.
“Mara?” he asks, shifting his gaze to me.
I shake my head.
“Then I won’t cut off his dick and feed it to him before I kill him.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Felix asks, taking a step back only to be stopped by one of Gray’s men holding the gun to the back of his head.
“Don’t shoot him!” I cry out, trying to get out from behind Dante.
Gray turns to me again and Dante shifts his body a little, his gaze still on Gray. I swear I see the infinitesimal nodding of Gray’s head. At that strange exchange, Dante shifts his grip to hold my arm with one hand and the wrist of the hand that’s gripping the dagger with the other.
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to make it that easy,” Gray says as if understanding my meaning. He then looks at Dante. “No one will touch her,” he tells him.
“You’re not taking her. I don’t care who you are,” Dante says.
I want to ask who he is because I get the feeling Dante knows.
“Well, I’m not leaving without her, so you and I may have a problem. But we’ll discuss that after we take care of this piece of shit.” He’s eyeing Felix again, his mouth curled with disgust.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Dante glances at me, then at Gray. Gray’s eyes lock on me, the look not like any man’s I’ve ever seen. Not hard. Not hateful. And not lecherous.
“Tell me,” I say.
Dante turns fully, giving his back to Gray, which surprises me. He shifts his grip, so his hands are gentle on my arms. I shudder as he rubs them. I look up at him, at the bloody spot on his temple, at his scarred face. And all I want to do is press myself into his body, feel his arms around me. Feel him hold me.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers, shifting his grip from my wrist to my hand so we’re both gripping the dagger. “Are you ready?”
I’m not sure what he means but then, a moment later, I see Felix move behind him. See him reach for a hidden weapon, the glint of metal catching the light of one of the flashlights. But Dante must sense it, so he spins me, one arm wrapping around my middle to hold me tight to his body, still keeping me shielded from Felix. His other hand tight over mine, the one holding the dagger, we lunge together toward Felix. We collide with him as a gun fires and Felix goes crashing to the ground, us on top of him. Dante’s grip shifts to cradle my head as we plunge the dagger into Felix’s chest, with our joined hands.
In that moment, something leaves me. Just as a dying man’s soul leaves his body, something leaves me. And for the first time in fifteen years, I can breathe.
I look at Dante who’s looking down at Felix. He shifts his gaze to me, and we both sit up. I see where Felix’s gun is a few feet from him, his hand is bleeding. That was the gunshot. Someone shot the gun out of his hand.
Dante and I don’t speak. We just look at each other and it takes me a long minute to drag my gaze away, over to Felix whose eyes are open wide, who is gasping for breath.
“He’s yours if you want him,” Dante says so low that only I can hear him.
I realize what he did, setting up the kill for me. I nod. Because yes, I want him.
Dante stands and I straddle Felix, my knees bare on the cold, dirty ground as the skirt of my dress settles around me. I close both hands over the bloody handle of the blade and I hold it there, looking at him. I wait until his eyes grow huge with terror. I don’t feel a moment of regret at what I’m about to do. I think I know what that says about me. I’m a monster. A monster he had a hand in creating.
And so, with that thought in mind, I drag the blade down to his stomach, listening to his pain, and then I change direction. I take my time as I draw the dagger out and set the tip over his chest. Slowly, so slowly, I push it through his ribs and pierce his devil’s heart.
I can hear sound he makes, the gurgle of his last breaths as I lean over him bringing my face close to his, so he sees me. So he can have no doubt that it’s me washing my hands in his blood.
“Go to hell,” I tell him and push deeper as blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. I watch life leave him. His dead eyes look back at me, empty, dull, but knowing it was me who did it. Who stole his life like he tried to steal mine.