Viktor: Heart of Her King (8 page)

Angelique was the daughter of Roman’s steward and she’d had the privilege of providing Viktor’s nourishment for almost ten years. She was well-paid for her services. Her family, like all the other families who’d been stewards to the Kings over the millennia, was loyal and trustworthy.

“How are you this evening, sire?” Angelique asked. She stood, moving the strap of her camisole from her shoulder and leaning her head to the right.

“I am fine, dear. How are you?”

“Fine, sire.”

“And your parents?”

“Vacationing in the Isles and from the postcards I’ve received, having a blast.”

“That is good to hear.”

Wanting, no, needing to get back to Katarina, Viktor asked the question he’d been asking every month since he’d arisen from his grave. “Do you, Angelique, agree to provide nourishment to me, a King of the Blood, freely and of your own volition?”

“Yes, sire. I do.”

“Then I shall take only what I need. Thank you for your service.”

Viktor supported her with his hands on her upper arms as he leaned in. Angelique sighed as he pierced the tender skin over her carotid and pulled the life blood from her vein. Feeding was a sensual experience for the
saietas
but not for the King. That only occurred when the keeper of his heart took his vein or he took hers, something the supreme commander was very much looking forward to.

Drinking quickly, Viktor took only the barest amount necessary to maintain his health, as he’d been doing for several centuries. Removing his teeth from her neck, he wiped the single drop of blood that had escaped his lips with his linen handkerchief and then returned it to his jacket pocket.

“You’ve ordered your meal?”

Smiling, she nodded, “I have. It’s in the lounge with the others.”

“Good. You received your new assignment?” Because Katarina had now come to Viktor, whether she agreed to be his mate or not, the King no longer needed a feeder, therefore, he’d had Angelique transferred to the corporate office where her skills as a programmer could be utilized.

“Yes, sire. Thank you so very much and congratulations. Your
custos animae
is beautiful.”

“Thank you, Angelique.”

Viktor had just opened the door when Angelique asked, “Is that why you had us come two nights earlier than scheduled?”

Before he could correct her assumption and get his much needed answers, a gunshot from the club below ripped the air. Swinging open the door, he was swamped with Katarina’s terror and panic. Looking through her eyes, he saw only a misty darkness. It was as if she’d been blindfolded. Her fright turned to anguish from one heart beat to the next as pain tore through her stomach.

Fearing she’d been shot, needing her by his side, Viktor hit the dance floor running. Roman was at once by his side.

“Katarina’s been shot!” the commander roared.

“No, Viktor. It was Sal that was shot, but Kat’s been abducted and...”

Not waiting to hear what else Roman had to say, Viktor sped out the emergency exit and into the alley, praying to reach his mate in time. The thought of being without her for only a moment was more than the King could bare. He knew he’d acquired some enemies over the years but only in business, no one who would strike out at him in a personal manner. Looking one way and then the other, he saw nothing and no one. It was as if Katarina had vanished along with her kidnappers. The door at the back of the building slammed against the brick wall as Bain and Nikos flew to his side.

“Where is she? Which way did she go?” they yelled in unison.

Viktor couldn’t answer. He could barely breathe. His worst nightmare had come to life. There on the wind was the scent he’d been hunting since the day he’d risen from his original death, but this time the bastard had gone too far. This time there would be no officials to bribe and no help from a vengeful goddess. No, this time there would only be death and retribution. This time he’d threatened Viktor’s mate.

This debt would be paid in blood...Bjorn’s blood.

K
at awoke to the smell of furniture polish and fabric softener. It would’ve have been okay, maybe even pleasant, if it hadn’t been combined with stale air and whatever had been on the rag they’d shoved in her mouth when she’d been abducted.

The good news is it’s clean here. The bad news is I have no idea where the hell
here
is.

Squinting against the glare of the streetlights shining through bare windows, Kat attempted to figure out what had happened while trying to pry open her swollen lips. The bastards had been extremely rough when they gagged her. It felt like she’d been punched in the mouth. Then there was the world record case of cotton mouth she had. If she’d had anything to drink she would’ve said it was a hangover. There had to have been some kind of chloroform or something on that blasted rag. It was the only explanation.

Then there were her bruised ribs. Injured when some huge man unceremoniously threw her over his shoulder. They ached and having her hands stretched above her head didn’t help. Kat tried to move her arms to relieve some of her discomfort only to be met with resistance and the clank of steel against wood. Three more tugs had her shoulders burning, her wrists aching, and her sides burning as if she’d just ran a mile. Which she never did.

More than a little pissed, Kat yelled, “All right, enough is enough! Let me go. This shit isn’t funny anymore.” Then quietly added, “Not that it was to begin with.”

Holding her breath, she listened for any sound indicating she hadn’t been left alone to die. All patience lost, she yelled again, “Somebody? Anybody? Crazy Kidnapper? Am I supposed to be scared? I’m not sure what you’re hoping to accomplish. Seems like a waste of time to abduct me and then leave me staring at the ceiling.”

In the blink of an eye a tall, dark-haired man with piercing blue eyes stood at the end of her bed. She had no idea where he had come from or how he’d moved that fast but from the contained aggression pouring off him, Kat was sure he would have no trouble snapping her neck without a second thought. The tension in the air threatened to strangle Kat while her captor simply stared, daring her to stare back...so she did.

Kat had to admit his intimidation technique was effective. Sweat ran down her back and her hands slightly trembled, but she’d come from the ‘never let ‘em see you sweat’ school of hard knocks and there was no way she was going to blink. Their test of wills seemed to go on forever. The longer she looked into his heartless eyes, the more the sense of déjà vu grew.

Before she could think about it any longer, the man spoke. “Hello, Katarina.”

His voice was hard and heavily accented, but familiar. It fit his dark features and olive skin. He knew her name. But so did a lot of people because of the huge amount of publicity she and Roma Tech had received in the last eighteen months. But that didn’t feel right. This wasn’t business...it was personal.

He turned his head, glancing at their surroundings. At the sight of his profile, bells went off in her mind. It was right at the edge of her memory, just out of reach. A picture forming of how she knew her kidnapper. Then he spoke. Her concentration was broken and Kat wanted to scream.

“I understand your reticence to speak to me. If you will be patient all will be explained. My plan is for you to be released unharmed as soon as I have what I want.”

He turned to leave and Kat lost her cool. “That’s it? You have a plan? What am I supposed to do? Lay here and wait?”

Spinning on his heels and advancing toward her almost faster than her eyes could follow, her captor leaned down until their noses almost touched. His piercing blue eyes bore into hers as he spoke through gritted teeth. “No, that is not it, but I was going to get you something to eat and the key to your handcuffs so that you would be more comfortable. However, if you prefer to lay here trussed up like a Christmas goose, then so be it. I must admit I like the view.”

He pulled back ever so slightly and slowly ran his eyes from her face to her toes and back again. Kat felt like she needed a shower with lye soap and a Brillo pad. As if that wasn’t enough, he ran the tips of his fingers across the thin strip of her stomach that showed from where her sweater had ridden up.

Kat held her breath, refusing to squirm. She absolutely would not let him know how much he repulsed her. The bastard was playing a game. He wanted her to react. He needed her to fear him for his plan to work. But she needed him to believe he had no effect on her, needed him to keep talking. It was the only way she was going to figure out what was happening.

“I’m sorry if Aldo hurt you when he was carrying you to the car. Sometimes he doesn’t know his own strength.” Another swipe across her skin. Then, in a dreamy voice her captor added, “Viktoras truly is a lucky man.” Smiling an evil smile, he maliciously chuckled, “Or should I say he was
almost
a lucky man.”

Now he was baiting her. It was a trap. There was no other explanation. He wanted her off kilter. On some level, she knew he was more than simply mean; he was sadistic. He wanted her scared. It fed his need for control, made him feel powerful. Too bad for him, Kat wasn’t playing. She had no clue who this Viktoras character was or what tall, dark, and psycho wanted with him, but she knew if she kept him talking, he would tell her.

Taking as deep a breath as she could with her sore ribs, Kat used the voice her father had taught her for her debate competitions in high school.
Calm and clear
was the mantra going through her head. “I’m not sure who Viktoras is or what he has to do with me, but I am willing to help you get whatever it is you’re looking for.”

“Oh, I know you will.” Her abductor spoke with a confidence that said he believed there was no way he could lose. He thought he had it all figured out. “First, let’s get you out of those restraints. Then we can eat and talk. I have waited for
you
for a very long time, longer than you can ever imagine.”

Before she could say anything, he was gone. From the sound of his footsteps, Kat was able to figure out that he’d gone down twenty-one stairs before walking thirty steps on carpet then stepping onto tile. There was the clatter of dishes and the sound of running water before he started back. Kat recounted the same number of steps as before until he was once again at her door. Her unease grew as she assumed they were alone. He hadn’t spoken to anyone, but then they could just be screwing with her.

Cause they’re not the most forthcoming guys in the world.  

Walking into the room without a word, her kidnapper set a huge silver tray covered with what smelled like tea and dessert on the long antique dresser across the room from where she lay. Kat thought about the biscuits she’d had the night before and wished to go back in time.

As promised, her captor moved to release her hands. Unfortunately, he took full advantage of her prone position, all but laying across her as he unlocked her cuffs. Looking up, Kat saw him leering at her with the corner of his mouth upturned in a sadistic smirk. Just another trick to disarm and intimidate her. This wasn’t his first abduction; he’d perfected his technique. The bastard was toying with her.

First one and then the other of her wrists were freed but...instead of letting them fall, he held them in his hands, lifted them to his lips, and lightly kissed the raw, irritated skin. His touch burned. Sucking her breath through gritted teeth, Kat jerked her hands away.

Feigning sympathy, the man cooed, “I’m very sorry for your pain. I did, however, bring you an ice pack and some pain relievers. Now, go ahead and visit the ladies’ room.” He pointed to a door in the far corner. “When you get back you can eat while I talk. As soon as you’ve heard what I have to say, I believe you will understand why this is the only real course of action I had.”

Shooing her away, Kat almost ran to the bathroom. She could feel his eyes on her with every step she took and breathed a sigh of relief when the lock on the old wooden door clicked shut. Flipping on the light, she looked in the mirror. All she could do was groan.

I’m a sight and not a good one.

She resembled a sad clown who’d gotten caught in the rain. Her mascara was everywhere but on her lashes. The red she’d lined her lips with before heading out with Viktor was still on her mouth but was spread and smeared until she looked like a five-year-old playing in Mom’s makeup. Her hair was flat on one side, sticking out on the other, and a quick reach behind her head let her know it was absolutely no better in the back.

Thankful for the respite from her captor but sure it wouldn’t last long, Kat took a washcloth from the shelf over the toilet. After smelling it to make sure it was clean, she did her best to remove the cosmetics from her face.

Tackling her wayward locks was another story. Reaching into her pocket, Kat retrieved the hair tie she’d worn the night before. The one Viktor had pulled from her hair during their dance. Visions of his arms around her came rushing back. Followed almost immediately by images of their kiss. Her lips, although still slightly swollen, tingled at the memory.

Kat wasn’t even sure she could call it a kiss because it had been so much more. One of those amazing, all encompassing, earth-shattering, life changing events that strip you bare and leave you wanting more. Viktor had made her feel things she wasn’t even sure how to describe.

In retrospect, Kat knew she’d started falling for Viktor from the first time her name had crossed his lips. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see his face. Didn’t matter that they were separated by thirty-five hundred miles and an ocean. And it was of absolutely no consequence that they’d never met. It was simply there. She felt it between them. Heard it in his voice.

That elusive
something
that people spend their entire lives searching for, praying to find and more often than not, leave this earth without. The something that defied explanation but was brilliantly beautiful and endlessly priceless.

It had been called love...infatuation...passion. She’d heard it referred to as devotion and more often than not—soul mates. But those were just words. Letters put together in a predetermined order to convey information. They were nothing when compared to the feelings that filled her very soul as his eyes met hers.