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  Men dressed in black with bright red gloves.

  Chinmoku.

  If they were dead...where the hell was Prest?

  Skidding on the wooden floor, I bolted toward the side where the balustrade stood to attention, and the ladder was thrown to the water below.

  I looked down to where the bastards had stolen Pim and found the one man I called a friend.

  Far below, barely noticeable in the silver moon shine and occasional wharf light, Elder gasped and coughed, treading water weakly, his face scrunched tight and a hand clamped over his left arm.

  He went under.

  My fingers clutched the barrier as he reappeared, his mouth wide and eyes shut, barely holding on to life.

  Too focused on survival, he didn’t see me and went under again. And again. His legs useless at keeping him afloat.

  Another few minutes, he’d tire and drown. Another few minutes, he’d be dead, and I’d be alone yet again.

  Not gonna fucking happen.

  Throwing the gun to the deck, I ripped off my jacket and trousers, breaking my shirt buttons in my haste to tear it off. Prest might have minutes, but I would only take seconds.

  Naked apart from my boxers, I threw myself off the side.

  I didn’t think about where the staff were or why dead Chinmoku were bleeding on his bedroom floor. I didn’t worry about Pimlico and who’d abducted her. Elder was the linchpin in this floating family and my top priority.

  I landed too close, drenching him in yet more water.

  He gasped and coughed, sinking beneath the churning waves.

  He didn’t come back up.

  Duck-diving, I connected with cold flesh and hoisted him to the surface. As his mouth found air, he groaned and inhaled, crying out in pain as I manoeuvred him into a recovery position. Seawater streamed over his face as I wrapped my arm around the front of his chest, making sure his chin was cocked for breath.

  Back-stroking, I powered toward the wharf.

  He cried out as my legs kicked one of his, his face a mask of torture. “Goddammit, Selix. Where the fu-fuck were you?” His teeth shattered from shock and cold, his blood spilling like oil.

  I wouldn’t tell him I’d had a moment of weakness and reminisced. I wouldn’t admit that I’d committed treason while he’d been at war. “I’m here now.”

  “Well, don’t worry about me. Go after them—” He wracked with coughs, flinching as more pain found him. “They took her.”

  I glanced at the black horizon where no sign of the boat or noise of its engine existed. It was as if she’d never been. Even the scent of gasoline had faded to salty nothingness. “They’re gone, Prest.”

  “They can’t be fucking gone. They can’t have—” He groaned as my legs once again kicked his, tangling in his dead weight as I swam closer to the pier. “They can’t have her.”

  Warm blood flowed over my hand where I’d tucked it under his armpit. I’d seen enough bullet wounds to know he needed to get out of the ocean and fast. He needed to remain calm and collected. He needed to care about himself first then worry about Pim.

  “Let’s focus on you.” Gritting my teeth, I swam harder, very aware of his life rapidly fading. “Then we’ll focus on her.”

  “Christ!” He bowed in my arm-lock, his body tense and pain-riddled. “Shit, it hurts.”

  “What hurts?” I couldn’t see if the bullet in his arm was the worst or least of his problems.

  “Fucking everything.” He howled at the moon as I crawled the final distance, hoisting him closer, accidentally digging my fingers into a sore spot.

  Where the hell is Michaels?

  He needed a doctor. Immediately.

  I could throw him in the car and screech to the nearest hospital, but what if he didn’t make it? His skin was blue. His lips almost black in the night.

  Reaching the wharf, I briefly worried how I’d haul his tux-waterlogged ass from the bay. Whatever injuries he had would hurt like a motherfucker.

  But my worries were for nothing.

  As my fingers lashed around the emergency stair rung and I took the first climb, Elder’s eyes rolled in the back of his head, and he turned into a pasty corpse in my embrace.

  My heart stopped as I placed my hand under his nose, checking for breath—fearing nothing and begging for something.

  When the softest puff of heat revealed he wasn’t dead just merely unconscious, I stopped being so gentle and worked with speed instead.

  I hauled his battered body up the stairs. I flopped him onto the wharf like a well caught fish. I landed on my hands and knees beside him, wringing wet and exhausted.

  He didn’t wake up. But his heart didn’t stop pumping more and more blood from his body, slowly pooling beneath him, dripping black into the tide.

  My job wasn’t finished.

  His minutes were almost spent.

  Standing, I bent and with a silent apology, somehow managed to manhandle his useless dying form over my shoulder.

  I began the long journey toward the gangway, making a deal with Death not to take someone else I cared about.

  It took my wife-to-be and unborn child.

  It would not take my friend.

  Not today, anyway.

  Chapter One

  ______________________________

  Elder

  PAIN.

  Considerable, uncomfortable pain.

  My eyes flew open as my lips gasped for breath. Last I remembered, I was drowning. Treading water with blood seeping from gunshot wounds and the growl of a speedboat stealing my woman.

  Goddammit, Pim.

  Launching upright, I cried out as pain turned to filleting agony, shoving me backward onto the bed.

  Where the hell am I?

  Blinking fuzzy eyes, I reconned my current hellhole. Sheets smelled like me, walls were familiar, furniture known.

  My room.

  Wait...the last time I’d been here, I’d been fighting for my life while Pim stood captive by Chinmoku. Thanks to that battle, a fair amount of redecoration had happened.

  Struggling to sit up enough to look at the carpet, I steeled myself for the crimson splatters of blood and bloated corpses; for smashed furniture and torn curtains.

  However, instead of a crime scene, sterile cleanliness stared back. The stringent whiff of bleach and industrial grade cleaners hung in the air, the carpet darker in places where it remained wet from being washed.

  No sign of any struggle or massacre.

  Everything righted.

  Everything the same.

  Did I dream it? Had I smoked a bad batch of weed and believed in a nightmare where Pim was stolen and I was fucking shot by some French asshole who’d singlehandedly destroyed my life?

  If I had, why the hell did everything hurt so damn much?

  Footsteps came from outside. I glowered at the open door, my muscles locked and ready to defend.

  I might be on the Phantom, but everything else was foreign—including my body.

  “Ah, you’re awake. About time.” Selix marched in, a tray in his hands with silverware and something steaming in a bowl. “Michaels said you’d be out for a while, but it’s been hours, Prest.”

  “Wh—” I coughed; my throat burned with salt and pain. Had I drowned? Was this purgatory where my soul thought it was alive while my body was nibbled by crustaceans at the bottom of the harbour? And if I wasn’t dead, who had found me? How was I alive?

  Where the hell is Pim?

  My stupid brain tossed question after question at me, demanding to know every minuscule detail immediately.

  My heart chugged as stress layered my system. “What happened?” I grimaced as my voice sounded shipwrecked and full of driftwood.

  “Chinmoku found you.” Selix stepped toward my bed and set the tray on the table. “Then some French fucker arrived, mowed down the Chinmoku, shot you, and took Pim.”

  So it wasn’t a bad joint, after all.

  Shit.

  “I know all that,” I
snapped. “I mean, what’s happened since? Where were you? Have you found Pim? How long have I been out?” Glancing down at my pain-riddled body, I pried up the blanket and inspected.

  Holy shit.

  Naked, my skin was no longer the blended western-eastern tan I knew but a multitude of bruises, contusions, and trauma. I looked like Pim did when we first met.

  My dragon tattoo hid beneath wrapped bandages, twining their way around my ribs, up and over my shoulder and left bicep. My ring finger on my right hand rested in a splint, my left arm nestled in a sling, and a brace wrapped around my ankle with Velcro.

  I was a prisoner to medical supplies.

  Selix cleared his throat.

  My eyes shot to his. I let the sheet flutter over me, pretending my body wasn’t in a million pieces.

  “Explain,” I seethed.

  How the hell was I supposed to go after Pim like this?

  “I heard them leave. Noticed you overboard. Managed to get to you before you drowned.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Prest. I’m sorry for not coming sooner and preventing them from taking her.”

  Whatever he’d been up to while Pim and I had been ambushed wasn’t his fault. That was entirely on me for not paying attention. As much as I blamed him for her disappearance, he’d pulled me from the sea. He’d saved one person. Too bad he’d saved the wrong one.

  Before I could thank him and curse him in equal measure, Michaels strode through the door with his stethoscope over his neck and black bag in hand. “Selix told me you were alive.”

  “Alive, yes. But you won’t be for much longer if you don’t fix me.” Waving at my broken body, I growled. “Take this shit off me.”

  Michaels placed his bag of tricks onto the mattress, nudging my good leg. “Afraid they can’t come off yet.”

  “Well, they have to ‘cause we have Chinmoku to hunt and French bastards to slaughter.”

  Selix crossed his arms. “I’m in the process of tracking down the men who took Pim. I’m on it, I promise. All you need to do is rest.”

  “Wrong. All I need to do is get out of this godforsaken bed. Don’t make me prove I can still kick your ass even while trussed up like turkey roast, Selix.”

  It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him or appreciate his promise. If Selix said he was doing something to find them, then I had no doubt he was. But it didn’t stop my rapidly building rage. I wasn’t going to lie here while they did the work. I’d never been good at accepting help. And I definitely wouldn’t start now—not when the woman I loved was on the line.

  I let Pim down. I had to be the one to fix it.

  Michaels popped a few pills, grabbing the glass of water on my bedside. “Take these.”

  “I’m not taking anything until you give me answers.”

  He huffed. “Take them and then I’ll give you answers.”

  My head pounded as I focused on the painkillers. I couldn’t deny my thoughts were scattered thanks to agony. If I could ignore the pain, perhaps I could work better. Faster. Cleaner. We’d find Pim before the end of the day, and I’d have two more kills under my belt when I took the men’s hearts for stealing her.

  Snatching the tablets, I tossed them into my mouth and swallowed them dry. Glowering at Michaels, I raised my eyebrow for him to keep his side of the bargain.

  Nodding, he said, “You were in surgery for a while. I had to enlist an extra pair of hands from a hospital not far from here. That bill is going to sting, by the way. Just letting you know in advance.” He cracked a smile, but when I continued to glare, he slipped into bullet-point form of my maladies. “The bullet got you in the shoulder. It tore a few ligaments, which means you might end up with a buggered joint, but I did my best. The stitches in your hairline will come out in a week. Only had to sew seven, even though your thick skull was showing, so count yourself lucky. You over-stretched the tendons in your elbow, so you’ll have considerable weakness and pain while you heal, and physiotherapy will be your friend to get full movement back. Two cracked ribs, possibly bruised kidneys, a broken ring finger, and can’t forget the fractured ankle.”

  Glancing at Selix, he quipped, “Did I miss anything?”

  Selix shrugged. “Who the hell knows? Sounds more like a grocery list rather than my friend.”

  I gave him a look, appreciating the nod to our friendship and his wry sarcasm turning this frustrating moment into a more endurable trial.

  Michaels shoved his hands into his pockets. “Look, all things considering, you’re doing better than you should after being attacked and enjoying a one-on-one altercation with a gun.”

  I wanted to howl. I was doing better than expected? Christ, I was useless.

  A goddamn cripple.

  I always hated being stationary and not moving. My brain existed at a faster frequency; I had no choice but to move in time with it. Lying in bed would turn me insane. Not knowing if Pim was okay would turn me into a monster.

  We had to chase after her. Surely, Selix had set sail while I lay like a slab of meat for doctors to poke and prod at. He knew me. He would understand.

  “You said I’ve been out for hours.” I looked at Selix. “Where are we? What course did you set?”

  My ears strained for the comforting hum of propellers. My body searched for the well-known ocean-rock as we sliced through the waves on the heels of our enemies.

  But there were no engines.

  There was no rock.

  We were stagnant just like I was stagnant in this goddamn bed.

  My voice lowered to a dark threat. “Someone better tell me where we are and why we aren’t moving.”

  Michaels shot a worried look at Selix. “Shit, I didn’t contemplate amnesia. You don’t think—”

  “Goddammit, Michaels.” My temper lashed hot. “I don’t have amnesia. I’m not some asshole you have to babysit.” Hoisting myself up against the pillows, I winced as fire and knives worked on different parts of my body. “I remember it all. I understand what happened. I hear the relay of my injuries. I see the bandages and stitches. I get it all, okay? What I don’t get is why we’re not moving. Why aren’t we enroute to find Pim? Why the fuck did you think it was wise to stay in England when Pim is obviously no longer in England?”

  My brain swam as sickly sweat prickled my body. The painkillers did jack to numb what I’d endured.

  Selix placed a hand on my burning shoulder, gently pushing me back against the pillows. “Because there’s no point sailing around with no destination. Besides, we don’t know if she’s not in England. They might’ve—”

  “France, Selix. They were from fucking France and had a speed boat. They’ve gone across the channel.” I fought his pressure, slapping away his touch. “Even if logic didn’t give us a destination, there’s always a point because moving forward is better than doing nothing.”

  He scowled. “We’ll find her. It’s only been a day. Lots of time—”

  “Wait, what?” I shot upright, uncaring of the searing agony in my bones, ignoring the nausea in my skull. “A day? What do you mean a day?” Glaring at the sky, the brilliant sun didn’t blind me, but the goddamn mocking moon laughed in my face.

  The moon I was named after by my romantic mother before her happiness turned to bitter sourness.

  It was dark when Pim was taken.

  It was dark now.

  It’s only been a few hours, not twenty-four of the fuckers.

  Please, let it only be a few hours.

  Michaels rested his hand on my bandaged shoulder, making me hiss with another layer of discomfort. “It’s been twenty-seven hours, Prest. The operation took a while then you slept for a crap-load longer than we expected. Thought your concussion had put you in a coma at one point.”

  A full day?

  This just kept getting worse.

  I bared my teeth, wishing I could rip someone into pieces. “Fantastic, we’ve done nothing to save Pim for a full day, and now I have a concussion. Anything else? Because now would be the time t
o tell me before I lose my goddamn shit.”

  Michaels said matter-of-factly, “Trust me, a concussion is the least of your worries. Your vitals are fine. You’re speaking fine. You slept so long because you haven’t been sleeping the past few weeks. Something had to give and something did.” He gave me his best doctor don’t-mess-with-me-I-know-best stare. “We didn’t move from this pier because we didn’t know if I was qualified to get you through or if you’d need to be admitted to the hospital. Apologises if we put your life first rather than cast off and bob around the ocean searching for something we have no idea—”

  “Pim is not something, Michaels.” Rage made me ball my hands before the splint on my broken finger and heavily bruised knuckles forced me to rethink such torture. “She’s everything. If she died while you did your damnedest to keep me alive...well—” I dropped to a whisper. “You better jump overboard before I catch you.”

  Unperturbed by my threat, he tilted his chin. “You never were good at taking instruction, but believe me when I say you need to take better care of yourself.”

  I wanted to gut him. “I need to be taking better care of Pimlico.”

  Selix cut in, physically and verbally blocking our rapidly escalating fight. “And you will. It’s not like they’re going to get away with this. You’re awake now. We’ll go hunting.”

  “It’s not about them getting away with this, Selix. It’s about how long they’ve already had her. What if she’s been touched? Raped? Hurt? What if all the progress we’ve made has unravelled all because I couldn’t keep her safe?”

  Deeper, twistier pain entered my heart.

  I’d let her down.

  She’d never trust me again. She’d never love me again, and why the hell should she? I’d failed her and didn’t deserve another chance.

  Fuck it.

  Being this patient? Lying in bed being schooled by a doctor? I was done.

  Soldiers at war didn’t rest.

  I wasn’t about to, either.

  Slinging the covers off, I didn’t care I was butt fucking naked. Hissing between my teeth, I swung my braced ankle and black and blue body to the edge of the mattress. The room spun upside down. I swallowed hard against the metallic rush of old blood and anaesthetic. “Tell Jolfer to set sail. Immediately.”