Chapter Twenty-One
Pavel lay in bed, staring at the ceiling fan as he ran various scenarios of how his revenge would play out through his mind. The baby blue silk sheet covered only one leg, leaving the rest of him naked and exposed. A flat screen mounted on the stark white far wall of his bedroom was on its fourth run through of the torture footage Olga had made of the human she’d killed.
His mate didn’t disappoint in her torture techniques. She’d made the human whose name and occupation she’d used as an alias suffer for days before finally killing her. As he stared at the screen, excitement raced through him once again.
There was nothing quite like the look in someone’s eyes when they understood they were about to die. It was exhilarating.
Pavel didn’t care that the window blinds weren’t pulled and that his neighbors could see directly into his room this time of night. That they could see the footage playing and watch him having sex with Olga.
They’d assume the footage was a horror movie.
Not reality.
And he already knew they were perverse and liked to watch intimate moments, assuming Pavel didn’t know. He did. He could smell them—smell their arousal. And he could hear their sharp intakes of breath at pinnacle moments of fucking his mate.
It only managed to turn him on more.
Olga rolled, stirring from her slumber, her hand instantly finding his chest. She caressed the area and then dragged her fingernails over one of his many scars, hard enough to hurt—reminding him that revenge was close at hand.
Blood welled on his skin where she’d clawed him. She dipped her finger into his blood and then brought it to her lips. “Thinking of ways to destroy Romanov again?”
“Always,” he said.
She let out a sultry laugh before turning and exiting the bed.
He reached for her, wanting her to remain close. His fingers skimmed her ass cheek.
Glancing over her shoulder at him, Olga gave a wicked grin. “You’ve had enough.”
“Never.”
“Don’t you want me to check in with the teams?” she asked. “Aren’t you curious how your old friend is getting along?”
Pavel rolled onto his side and propped an elbow on the bed, watching his mate as her hips swayed back and forth like a calling card. “There are days I think you’re worse than me.”
Olga’s smile widened. “Oh, I know I am. You’re a snuggly teddy bear compared to me.”
Of that he had no doubt.
He winked and watched as she made her way to the closet. When she exited it, she was in nothing more than one of his dress shirts. The sight turned him on, and it showed.
Her gaze slid to his groin, and she held her head a little higher, clearly knowing the impact she had on him.
Her cell phone pinged from the top of the dresser, and she went to it quickly. Whatever she saw made her eyes light with excitement. “Looks like I don’t even need to reach out. They’re contacting me.”
Pavel adjusted himself. “What is it?”
She hurried to the bed, holding the phone out for him to see the screen. “You were right. The bait worked.”
Pavel took the phone and narrowed his gaze. Footage from a night vision camera was playing. It showed Rurik on the porch of Liberty’s home with the small human male.
“This is happening now?” he asked.
Olga shook her head. “But it’s not that old. Good call on sending some of the team into the house, being sure they could be seen briefly from the safe house. It clearly set off Romanov’s inborn need to protect his mate.”
Thrilled, Pavel found himself smiling—something he didn’t do enough of anymore. He continued to watch the footage of Rurik entering Liberty’s house. “Perfect.”
Olga laughed softly. “We’re so close to getting out of this hellhole.”
She’d never been a fan of the area. She wanted to be in Los Angeles or New York City, not North Carolina. Little did she know they’d be headed back to Russia if everything went according to plan. “We are.”
Her phone pinged and he held it out to her.
She eased it from his grip and checked the message. Her gaze slid to him. “They’re in place.”
He sat up quickly. “They didn’t engage, did they?”
“They would never go against your orders,” she soothed, sliding onto the bed with him.
That wasn’t entirely true, and he knew it.
So did she.
Olga was the wild card the other men feared. Not him. Until Pavel’s reputation was cleared of the stain that he called Rurik, they’d never truly respect him. Until then, he’d have to rely on the fact they were scared shitless of Olga and what she could do.
When he’d first sent her to PSI to infiltrate and get close to Rurik, he’d hoped her gift would be beneficial on him. The Russian proved to be too headstrong. As did most of the men at PSI. But there were some she’d managed to nudge ever so slightly, getting them to do as required in order to get Rurik here in Durham.
Vampires were easiest for her to influence because when they slept, their natural defenses against mental intrusion were down. The French one had taken her days of countless pushes, but she’d finally gotten through to him, encouraging him to consider Rurik for a light-duty mission.
And he’d played into their hands, doing what they needed of him.
“Check in with the other teams,” he said. “The ones assigned to the other women.”
Olga eased the phone from his hand and began texting. She was far more adept with technology than he was. Within seconds her phone was pinging over and over again.
Her eyes lit with excitement. “Everything is going as planned.”
“Tell them they have a green light,” he said. “The first chance the other two teams get, they’re to grab the females. And, Olga, remember what I told you.”
With a groan, she blew out a long breath. “I know. The Corporation wants them alive.”
“Yes,” he said. “They do.”
“I get to play with them though, right?” she asked.
He laughed. “If you’re a
