Circle of Death (25 page)

Sheer horror snaps me back to the present moment. A mighty surge of adrenaline forces all lethargy from my mind and body. Everything comes back to me at once: the failed escape, the abduction, even the identities of the men looming above me. I scramble onto all fours and flatten myself against the white wall behind me, whipping my gaze all around the tiny cell.

“Look who’s decided to grace us with her presence,” drawls the blonde man before me. One of the suits who led Devlin away from the casino the other night.

“This just got a lot more interesting,” grins his dark haired companion.

“Logan,” I hear Devlin shout. His voice is muffled by the thick glass, but unmistakable all the same. He’s staring at me from his own cell, relief and rage twisting his features. I stare at him through the barrier, fear setting my every nerve on edge. I know, in this moment, that he can’t save me from whatever brutality these men have in mind.

“Oh dear,” murmurs a sweet, tinny voice I don’t recognize, piping into my cell from an unseen speaker. “I was rather hoping you wouldn’t have to be conscious for this, dear. You’re just an innocent victim. Collateral damage, really.”

“Let me out of here,” I rasp.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the sickly voice replies. “You see, I’ve promised my two colleagues here a spot of fun. And I’m not about to deny them their due.”

“Which one of us do you want first?” grins the dark haired man, as he and his companion advance toward me.

“I’m a better fuck, I promise you that,” the blonde man laughs.

“Stay the hell away from me,” I shout, balling my hands into fists.

“Or what?” the first man laughs. “Looks like your guard dog is all tied up.”

I glance up at Devlin, straining against the ties that bind him. It’s true. I’m all on my own, here. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to go down without a fight. My fiercely overprotective mother had me and Juliet in self-defense classes by the time we were twelve. Surely some of that training has stuck. As the blonde man lunges for me, I realize there’s only one way to find out.

With a ragged shriek, I thrust the palm of my hand sharply upward, catching my blonde assailant’s shapely nose. A sickening crunch rings out through the space as he stumbles back, a spray of bright red blood coloring the white room. My hand throbs from the impact, but the man’s outraged wails prove that he’s even worse for the wear.

“Fuck me,” he cries, cradling his face, “I think it’s broken.”

“You can buy yourself a new one,” growls the dark haired man, catching my arm and twisting it behind my back. “Looks like I get to go first after all.”

Adrenalin rages through me, I feel possessed as my instincts take over and I stomp the heel of my sister’s hiking boot onto the bridge of my attacker’s fine Italian leather shoe. He sucks in a deep breath, loosening his grip on my arm just a hair. I cock my elbow and slam it back into his gut. This second hit is enough to shake him. Coughing, he staggers away from me as the disembodied voice shouts overhead.

“I thought you two were men,” the voice shrieks, “Prove me right, goddammit!”

My two assailants rally at his words, flying at me once again. Unsure of how to handle both at once, I hesitate. They tackle me onto the cold floor, pinning my shoulders to the ground. I struggle against their strong arms as panic threatens to overtake my mind.

“Forget about who goes first. She’s got enough holes for the both of us,” snarls the blonde man, swinging himself on top of me as he unbuckles his belt.

“I’d better knock out her teeth first. I hate a girl who’s too toothy,” grins his friend, bringing a fist up over his head.

But their bravado only serves to distract them. I bring my knee up into the blonde man’s crotch. He rolls away, his mouth opening in a silent, tortured howl. I stagger to my feet, shaking with rage and terror. Long, dark locks fall across my field of vision as the metal hair sticks come undone from my hair.

“Just kill her then, if you can’t fucking catch her!” screams the voice through the speaker.

“My gun...I don’t have my gun...” groans the darker of the men.

A wordless cry of exasperation and disgust erupts through the speaker as the men manage to pick themselves up off the ground. Beaten down though they may be, there’s nothing but malice in their eyes. They’ll kill me with their bare hands if I let them, that much is clear.

Time slows to a crawl as they launch themselves at me again, ready to finish the job. A glint of metal catches my eye as I spot the hair sticks that have come loose from my locks. My eyes alight on the long, sharp pins. I don’t spare a moment for a second thought, snatching up one stick in each hand. With desperate, unforgiving force, I lunge wildly at the closest man.

His eyes widen in surprise as I drive a pin straight into his throat. For a moment, the scene is perfectly still. I stand with my hair stick buried in the blonde man’s jugular as his friend looks on in shock. But as I wrench my weapon back, the flow of blood from his broken nose is dwarfed by the flood that spills forth from his neck.

As he falls to his knees before me, sputtering and shocked, I square myself against his dark haired friend. The second man turns to look at me with ire and something that looks a lot like wonder. He’s too overcome by his friend’s fate to think clearly. With a primal yell, he rushes toward me. I need only hold the second stick out before me with a strong hand, thrusting at the last moment as he impales himself on the long metal rod, his mouth falling open into a perfect “o”. His body slides to the ground, as he incredulously pulls at the stick still lodged in his gut.

I stare down at the fallen men, their blood pooling on the cold ground beneath them. They’re still alive, blood frothing on their flapping lips. But I doubt they can hold on much longer. Heavy silence fills the little room, broken only by the thunderous beating of my own heart. Though I’ve only acted in desperate self-defense, one phrase scrolls through my mind over and over again:

What have I done?

As the two men at my feet fall silent, I manage to wrench my eyes up toward Devlin once more. He stares at me with wide-eyed wonder. He’s unable to take in the scene playing out before him. And that makes two of us.

“You’re dead, little girl,” says the voice from overhead. The sweetness of his tone only makes his promise more chilling. “I’ll kill you myself, so help me—”

“You’ve got to catch me first,” I whisper. I spin on my heel, turning my back on my fallen attackers. A wild, sobbing laugh rips out of my throat as I spot their parting gift to me.

“Thanks for leaving the door open, gentlemen,” I say, flying across the room and wrenching open the door of my cell. They didn’t even bother locking it behind them, so convinced were they that I’d be an easy victim. That underestimation may have cost them their lives, but it might just save mine.

I skid out of the door, finding myself in a long white corridor. Turning to the door beside mine, I grab hold of the handle and tug like mad, desperate to free Devlin from his cell. But this second door is locked tight. I pound on the windowless barrier, knowing that my force won’t be enough to save him, now.

“Dev! Devlin!” I scream, throwing my bruised shoulder against the immovable door. “Goddamn it, I’m not leaving you behind. Not now—”

But my words are drowned out by a shrieking, ear-splitting wail—some kind of siren. An alarm. I step back as every door along the passageway swings open, Devlin’s included. All around me, bedraggled bodies stagger out of the now-open doorways, their faces unbelieving. Looks like Leviathan has a habit of taking captives. Somewhere in the depths of my mind, I remember that this place used to be a prison for the criminally insane. A perfect place for the Leviathan Corporation to house its hostages.

The door to Devlin’s cell swings open, and I launch myself inside. I wrack my brain, trying to figure out how to release him from his bondage. But as I watch, the steel cuffs keeping his wrists, ankles, and torso immobilized unlatch. They’re mechanized, too. Stunned, he staggers to his feet from the bolted-down chair and turns my way. Lethargy and pain forgotten, I leap into his waiting embrace. His strong, eager arms close around me, and even in the midst of all this chaos, I know that I’m safe once again.

“Let’s save the reunion sex for later, yeah?” I suggest.

“Sounds like a plan,” he agrees.

With no time to spare, we cut our embrace short and dash out into the hallway. All around us, bodies scream and stumble, the raging siren unrelenting overhead. Devlin and I trade glances, clueless as to why the cells would have suddenly all sprung open.

That is, until we smell the smoke.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Screaming voices, boiling heat, and careening bodies surround us on all sides as we make it to the ground floor of The Club. Racing for the nearest exit, we can finally see the cause of all the chaos, the reason why alarms have erupted all throughout The Club. A fire has broken out on the floor of the casino, and it only seems to be spreading.

“When it rains it pours,” Devlin shouts.

“Only you could joke at a time like this,” I yell back.

“Whatever you do,” he says, stealing a glance at me through the smoke-thickened air, “Don’t you let go of my hand.”

Just as the heat of the encroaching fire threatens to overwhelm us, Devlin and I burst out into the open air of the forest. Chests heaving, we pause just long enough to take stock of the situation. Fire alarms cut through the smoky air, mingling with frightened cries of The Club’s patrons and employees alike.

“What’s our next move?” I ask Devlin.

“That all depends on my brothers,” he replies, hurrying through the darkened woods.

He leads the way back down to the dock, to the place where I parted ways with the rest of the MC. The boards are crawling with frantic men and women, their panicked cries ringing out all around us.

“How the hell are we supposed to get off this rock?” demands a rotund man in a fine suit.

“All the exits of the The Club have just been sealed shut!” cries a woman in nothing but a golden bikini. “The management doesn’t give a shit if there are people still inside.”

“Maybe they’re trying to lock someone in?” a silver-haired man adds grimly.

Devlin and I exchange a dark glance at this last idea. Would Leviathan rather have us and its other prisoners burnt to a crisp than refuse to bend to their will? Somehow that doesn’t surprise me at all.

The glowing light of a lantern catches my eye, and I turn to see Titan standing at the far end of the dock, towering over the scrambling bodies all around. And there, beside him, is a slight woman rendered even tinier next to his hulking form.

“Titan! Emma!” I shout, racing down the dock toward my friend with Devlin in tow.

“Logan! Thank god,” Emma cries, throwing her trembling arms around my shoulders.

“Why are you still here?” I demand, grabbing her slender shoulders. “Where are the rest of the guys?”

“They went ahead with the plan,” Titan informs me and Devlin. “Took over the yacht and rode it out to find the boat you brought here. But they’ve been gone for a mighty long time.”

“They’re all together, though?” Devlin demands.

“All but Packer and Jules,” Titan replies, looking around at the teeming faces on the dock. “Wait. Aren’t they with you?”

“With us?” I cut in, “No—why would they be with us?”

“They broke off from the group to go looking for you,” Emma tells me. “Said they had a plan for getting you out.”

Devlin and I whip around toward The Club, each of us thinking the same thing: we can wager a guess who started the fire, now. The narrow windows of the deranged resort glow orange as the blaze picks up momentum, but the flow of scrambling bodies from within The Club has run dry. Everyone who’s likely to escape already has—the rest have been locked inside.

“The doors have all been sealed,” I breathe, looking helplessly up at Devlin. “But what if they’re still in there?”

Before Devlin can reply, Emma lets out a cry of relief, pointing out across the black Atlantic water.

“They’re back!” she says, grabbing onto my arm. “They made it back!”

Devlin, Titan and I look up to see two headlights cutting through the thick darkness of the sea. The twin orbs grow larger as a huge speedboat roars toward the dock. Panicked millionaires rubberneck to catch sight of the vessel, hoping for a way off the burning island. But the men on this life boat only have eyes for us.

“Dev!” shouts Lobo, standing at the bow of the boat. “Hurry up, man!”

“We don’t know how long we’ve—Jesus Christ, what’s going on up there?” Leon calls, squinting up at the burning fort from his place beside Lobo.

“Someone’s started a fire,” Titan shouts, as the boat glides to a stop along the dock.

“Where’s Packer?” Dean calls from the boat. “He went to find you when we took command of the yacht.”

“Said he had a plan to...smoke everyone out of The Club,” Chip adds, his eyes going wide as he realizes the implications of his words.

“We’ve got to go back for them,” I say to Devlin, grabbing his hand and pulling him against the tide of bodies surging away from The Club. “Packer and Jules could still be in there!” Devlin looks between The Club and his club. I can tell that he’s torn, but I’m not. “Dev, my sister could be inside that building,” I say firmly. “All because she came looking for me. I’m not leaving this island without her.”