Page 27 of Devil's Retribution

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Page 27 of Devil's Retribution

He held the outer door for me, and I stepped out—to discover the whole structure had been built inside a giant, decommissioned sound stage. Armed men in dark suits, tracksuits or workmen’s uniforms milled around, guarding the place, tending to the collection of classic cars that occupied most of the floor space, or chatting with each other in Russian.

Right next to the structure we had just left was a standard-issue office portable. He led me inside, and closed and locked the door behind us.

“I have to ask you something,” I said as firmly as I could manage.

He looked at me quizzically as we sat down at opposite sides of the big desk that took up a quarter of the room. “And what is that?”

“If what you say is true, and Uncle Charles abandoned us and ran, what is going to happen to Nick? Or me?”

He considered me, fiercely bright eyes reading my face before his gaze slid over the rest of me briefly. “I want your help with finding your uncle. Once he is in our hands, you and the child will walk free.”

I hesitated. “You want me to give him up to you?”

It was one thing to be a helpless hostage who was being used to draw Uncle Charles in. It was quite another, to aid and abet the people who had a vendetta against him. The very ones who had kidnapped us.

“It may seem like a betrayal, Doctor, but consider that he betrayed you and your boy first.”

“I couldn’t forget that.” Not ever. I felt anger prickling at my insides again, making my face hot.

“Do you still have a passkey and access to his penthouse?” he asked me, his voice still damnably calm. “Can you get us in?”

“I do. If you want in, I can get you in. But I’ll have to do it in person. His security includes a retinal scan.” I forced myself to meet his gaze firmly as he stared at me.

“Fine. That holding cell is no place for you to stay long-term anyway, let alone you and the boy. We’ll bring you back there, and in return, you will find out everything you can about where your uncle may have gone.”

I pursed my lips, staring at him. “What’s the catch?”

He smiled faintly, a little wryly. “The catch is, until we have what we need to lay hands on your uncle, I will be staying there too.”

I stared at him for a few beats. Of course we would be guarded. Of course my progress at tracking my uncle would be watched. In an environment they didn’t control like this one, they would need someone to be watching me like a hawk.

To be back at the penthouse right now still sounded amazing, even with the conditions. Having Nick back somewhere familiar. Being able to have more control over what I did, who I contacted, what I wore and ate. Grocery deliveries. A drink of top-shelf Scotch that I very much needed right now. And if I had to, more opportunities to escape with Nick, or get my hands on a weapon.

It wasn’t freedom, but it was a chance.

“All right,” I said finally. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

The whole time, I was praying that I was making the right decision.

Chapter 12

Emma

By the time dawn broke, we were walking out of the sound stage into the rain. Nick was yawning and rubbing his eyes, but there was an energy in his step that had been missing for many hours. It was like watching a plant perk up after finally getting sun and rain. His hand clutched mine tightly as we walked.

Viktor held his big, black golf umbrella for us, keeping the fat droplets from splattering our heads and shoulders as we walked toward a familiar-looking black coupe. He had a grim expression most of the time, but it softened some when he looked at us. He was dialing back his ferocity in our presence—or at least, in Nick’s.

“So we’re going to Uncle Charles’s?” Nick sounded hopeful. “Can I play my games, or will you be mad?”

“Of course I won’t be mad,” the big, smooth-voiced Russian told him warmly. “That wasn’t an easy time for you, staying in that room. You need to relax and have some fun. And you were good, so you get to.”

“Still gotta do your reading practice, though,” I clarified, and he pouted a little. But just a little.

Life wasn’t going back to normal—not for me. My new job was to help find my uncle so that I could get back to real normalcy. My home, my practice, my patients. Quiet mornings. The book I’d left half-unread. The friends I hadn’t called.

But for Nick, despite his having to stay home from school, life could go back to being a lot more normal. I didn’t want to deny him that. But normal also meant doing the boring stuff too.

Viktor drove like he’d done it for a living, always calm, never speeding by much, not too aggressive. With the rain still falling, and everyone acting like they’d forgotten how to drive on wet roads, that was an asset. Broken glass and shattered taillight lenses glittered on the road in many places, breaking up the mirrored smoothness of the wet asphalt.




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