We all drew our guns and remained silent as we entered the suite. Clara had drawn the outlay of the rooms, marking those Nikolai had taken as his own. We crossed a marble foyer with the soft lighting of concealed bulbs illuminating our way. The silence was thick until a cry sliced through it like a knife… stabbing into my soul as well.
Only Yuri’s quick reaction and the vise-like clamp he had on my arm kept me from forgetting all about stealth and slamming into the room where Clara’s cry had come from. Grigori simply looked at me for a moment, whether to admonish me or as a gesture of understanding from one man to another, I didn’t know, but it was enough for me to nod and have Yuri release me.
Grigori turned the knob and pushed the door open, great attention to a proper maintenance schedule assuring there was not so much as a faint squeak of a hinge or the brush of wood over the thick pile of the carpet to herald our entrance into the master suite. I would never forget the view that greeted us, but if I had any doubts about what would happen here tonight, the sight of Clara spread-eagled on the bed, her fingers clenching against the ropes, her heels pushing against the sheets, held in place by Nikolai’s restraints had each one disappearing like smoke in the wind.
“Get the fuck off her,” I demanded, lifting my gun to aim at the back of Nikolai’s head.
When he didn’t so much as flinch, I stepped forward, and only my oath to Grigori had me pressing the barrel into the crevice of his ass rather than against the nape of his neck. A bullet here wouldn’t instantly kill him, leaving that honor to the man who’d demanded it, but I’d get the satisfaction of Nikolai witnessing his balls explode. “I said, get the fuck up.”
“He can’t,” Yuri said, moving to the other side of the bed. “Not without help, that is.”
Yuri tucked his gun back into its holster and then reached out and yanked Nikolai off Clara. It still took me a second to understand that the drops Grigori had given Clara had actually worked… at least on his nephew. The bastard was out like a light, the cry having come when his dead weight pinned Clara’s delicate frame to the mattress. She was gasping, her breasts moving up and down as she tried to draw in air to breathe.
I left the chore of getting Nikolai dressed to Yuri as I reached for the first knot that held Clara tied to the headboard.
“Here.”
I turned my head to see the hilt of a knife being offered to me by Grigori. I took it and severed the knot within seconds. Ugly red marks around her wrist gave evidence of how tightly the bastard had tied them, serving as proof at how Clara had struggled at finding herself at Kosloff’s mercy.
“It… it took so… so long,” Clara stammered as she still struggled to get her breathing regulated. “He… he didn’t want champagne, he… he switched to whiskey so I had to put the drug—”
“Shhh,” I said softly, freeing her leg before moving around the bed to cut through the remaining restraints on her left side. “It doesn’t matter. You did your job, and he’s out now.” Tossing the remnant of the last remaining rope aside, I reached down and pulled her into my arms. “Thank God you’re all right.”
“Let’s save the thanks until we’re finished,” Yuri suggested as he knelt to put Nikolai’s shoes onto his feet.
Clara pushed away from my hold, climbing off the bed and walking toward Yuri who was tying the last lace.
“Are you sure he’s out?” she asked.
“Like a light,” Yuri assured her.
“Good,” she said and then drew her foot back and slammed it up between Nikolai’s legs.
I was positive I was not the only man in the room to wince and fight the instinct to grab my crotch as this small slip of a woman delivered a blow to the very balls into which I’d so wished to plant a bullet.
Yuri chuckled as Clara nodded, turned and walked away. You’d have thought she was wearing the regal gown of a queen instead of nothing but her birthday suit. Only the flush of her skin told of her acknowledgment of her complete nudity. She began to dress as Yuri bent and lifted Nikolai over his shoulder. Healthy living and years of rigorous dance gave him the ability to carry Kosloff’s dead weight.
“Ready?” I asked as Clara returned to me, her bag in hand.
“Yes, but I think there might be a guard—”
“Grigori took care of him,” I informed her, giving the man who’d kept his sight… and his gun… on Nikolai the entire time Yuri had been ,dressing him. When he nodded, I took Clara’s hand in my free one, pulled my own gun again and retraced our steps.