I can only gawk at Nikolai open-mouthed. He’s wrong—he has to be—I can feel it in my bones. But which part is wrong? Where’s the flaw in the theory? I’m trapped down here in this basement and Uri is staying far away upstairs, so this is all I have to go on.
It’s pathetic how eager I am to latch onto it.
“Now, will you eat a little something or do I need to get Emily in here?”
I nod grudgingly. “I’ll eat.” Nikolai brings the tray of food around and I pick at the warm croissant. My stomach roils but it doesn’t translate to my appetite. I eat anyway.
“I-is there any news… about Polly?” I venture.
Nikolai shakes his head gently. “Not yet.” He meets my gaze for a second. “But don’t worry: if anyone can find Polly, it’s Uri.”
Just like the rest of what he’s said, I have to believe that, too.
The only alternative is madness.
10
URI
I’ve been pulling at different threads for hours now. Each one comes up empty. Each call leaves me with more worry than reassurance.
I’ve pored over the names of the men who are a frequent part of the skin auctions. All of them are rich and powerful. And each one has their own perversions.
There’s a Belgian with a taste of sadomasochism. A Czech who loves to share his purchases with all his soldiers. An American who experiments with bestiality.
Monsters, one and all.
And my fourteen-year-old sister is at the center of their web.
I’ve got my men scouring every little pocket of the city, trying to get whatever information they can about upcoming transactions. But the private ones are still shrouded behind a thick veil of secrecy. Every time I try to penetrate it, the trail disappears altogether, leaving me grasping at smoke and half-formed rumors.
The fact that I haven’t slept properly in over forty-eight hours isn’t helping matters.
My head feels heavy. So does my chest. Sometimes, when I blink, I see Polly, stripped and strung up like a piece of meat for all those depraved animals to leer at.
“Fuck,” I mutter to my empty office. “FUCK!”
Every damn second that ticks by is another second I’m losing to those beasts. What if she’s already been put up for sale? What if she’s already gone? What if someone lecherous fuck has his hands on her right now?
I get to the point where I feel as though poking my eyeballs out is the only option left. It’s been a few hours since Nikolai left and as much as we butt heads sometimes, his presence has been calming. Especially when I’m spiraling.
And I’m definitely spiraling.
I snatch up my phone and dial. He answers quickly. “Nikolai?”
“Uri? Fucking hell, man, are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. What kind of question is that?”
“You sound drunk.”
My jaw clenches. “I’m not.”
“I take it you haven’t slept yet then.”
Why did I want to call him again? I start pacing between the door and the window. It’s beginning to get lighter outside which means I’ve stayed awake through yet another night. “Any leads?”
“Not since the last time you called me… twenty-four minutes ago.”
Has it only been that long? In my head, it’s been countless hours. “There has to be something, Niko,” I snarl. “I saw the bastard’s eyes when I mentioned his loved ones. He’s got someone out there that he cares about. A child. A parent. A sibling. A woman. We’ve got to find out who.”
“I’m working on it, Uri.” Nikolai’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle. “Trust me: I’m looking. But I need you to go to sleep.”
Doesn’t he get it? Sleeping would be a betrayal to Polly. What kind of sorry excuse for a brother would snooze while his little sister rots in the hands of the beasts of the underworld?
“I will—”
“Good—”
“—as soon as Polly’s back home.”
“Goddammit, you’re stubborn.”
“Let me know as soon as you find out anything.”
I hang up before he can lecture me more. Then I decide to go to the kitchen and make myself some black coffee. At this rate, it feels like I’m made up of one-thirds anguish and two-thirds caffeine.
I’m halfway to the kitchen when I run into Svetlana in the hallway. She’s carrying a bowl of cereal.
“Lev?” I ask.
She nods. “He wakes up early these days.” Her eyes flit towards the basement door in the corner. “Sir… he’s still asking for—”
“No.” Her mouth snaps shut and she nods meekly. “If he asks again, shut it down.”
“Of course, sir.”
She ducks upstairs and I pivot in the direction of the basement. All the pain and hurt and suffering—it’s all because of her. If it weren’t for Alyssa, Lev wouldn’t have been abducted and Polly wouldn’t still be gone; my brother wouldn’t be going through Alyssa withdrawal symptoms and my sister wouldn’t be facing sexual enslavement at the ripe old age of fourteen.
“Blyat’,” I growl as my body takes over, fueled by the rage burrowing its way through me.
Abandoning my coffee, I charge down towards the basement. The soldier on guard duty opens the door at the sight of me and I power through without breaking stride, ready to unleash my anger on her.
She’s lying in the fetal position on the bed, but I can tell at a glance that she’s wide awake and that she has been for a while. I would know—we’ve got matching dark circles under our eyes.
“Did you find Polly?” she asks the moment she sees me.
All that question does is fuel my fury. But she’s right—the onus is on me to find Polly. It always has been.
“‘Find Polly’?” At the sound of my voice, Alyssa flinches, even though she’s still far out of arm’s reach. I keep my distance—if I get too close to her, there’s no telling what I’ll do. Kiss her, fuck her, throttle her… each option seems worse than the last. “How am I supposed to find Polly when you’ve given me no information?”
“I told you—”
“I already knew about the rings. Tell me something I don’t know. You were with her for almost two days and you’re telling me you didn’t pick up on anything while you were there?”
She pales. “I-I’m trying to remember… but the drugs he gave me—”
“Don’t hide behind excuses.”
Her eyes flare wide. First, there’s shock; then anger. She springs up off the bed, her slip sliding over her skin like butter. “You think I’m using that as an excuse?” She laughs hysterically. “You think I don’t want to get Polly back as fast as possible? You think I’m enjoying this?”
“It’s your fault she’s been taken. I would think you’d be trying harder to remember—”
“Don’t you think I want to? I’m spending every damn minute in here going over and over it in my mind, trying to piece together what happened! I’m killing myself trying to remember, Uri!”
I grab her elbow and yank her towards me just so that I can snarl in her face, “Try harder.”
I don’t know what to think when I look at her. I don’t know how to be, who to be. It’s not escaping my notice that she’s lost weight. Her slip hangs off her shoulders, the thin straps revealing her protruding collarbones. Her skin is pale and the arm caught in my grasp feels fragile enough to crumble if I push too hard.