Infernal: Bite The Bullet (13 page)

Konstantyn sighed at me, with pity in that
green-speckled gaze. “Don’t throw your life away on revenge. There is no
justice when it comes to powerful men. You can still get away from this. Save
yourself.”

No. I can’t.

I looked up at him, praying the tears didn’t fall.
Angry and determined, I was not going to let him shut me out. “Could you walk
away? If it was Mariya he’d killed?”

His gaze fell.

“No, I didn’t think so.” Rubbing my thighs to dry
the clammy feeling from my palms, I swallowed and straightened my spine. I’d
been willing to go it alone before I’d know Konstantyn had been involved, but
things were different now. I didn’t have the skills to catch my brother’s
killers alone, and I wasn’t letting Konstantyn, my one good chance at
succeeding, get away from me. “What if we were to find your sister first,
before Dante comes for you? There must be a way to expose what these people are
doing. You have all that video evidence. The entire planet isn’t corrupt.”

He dragged a hand down his face with a frustrated
groan. “You think I wouldn’t have exposed them before now, if I could? It’s
nothing but circumstantial evidence. Only the victims are identifiable. Never
the perpetrators, never the location. Dante is meticulous. He will only be
found on his terms.”

“He’s not working alone though.” I pointed out,
tapping my fingers on my thigh. “Raider must know something, or that creepy
Friar guy at the club?”

Konstantyn leant back, his large body powerful and
intimidating, even when he was semi-relaxed. “Raider and the Friar will never
talk. They are too invested, plus they know how Dante will reward them if they
loosen their lips.”

“Couldn’t we follow them or something?” Like we
were Scooby and the gang, but as ridiculous as it sounded, I didn’t know how
else you could track a person. “Maybe we could find out where he takes the
victims, where the videos are made?”

He shook his head and wetted his lips, and I could
see the thoughts turning over in his head, even if he was dismissing every
course of action I proposed. “Now they know I’m here, they’ll be more vigilant
than ever to cover their tracks.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek and for a few
moments, the sound of our breathing was the only interruption to our thoughts.

“What about Gracie?” I blurted.

“Gracie? The dancer?” His brow furrowed and the
confusion was a good look on him. “What about her?”

“She knows something. She denied it, but she
recognised the photograph of my brother. She gave me the card for Infernal.”
Loose links, perhaps, but from that flash of recognition in her eyes, I knew
she had to know something. Anything.

“Do you know where she lives? Where to find her?”

“No,” I said, deflated.

“Not a problem,” he said. “You have my laptop?”

I nodded and he grinned.

“Then I can find her.”

While Konstantyn sat, elbows braced on his knees
waiting for the laptop to boot-up, the dryer buzzed.

“That’ll be your pants.” I smiled and said, “I’ll
get them.”

“Let me,” he replied, and he was striding out to
my laundry area before I had a chance to stir from the chair.

I may have spied on him as he shucked the towel
down his legs and got to grips with the door of my washer-dryer. God, but you had
to love a man who knew his way around the laundry, especially a half-naked one
with an ass hard enough to crack walnuts on. When he held up his tattered
shirt, the thing looked like a prop from a slasher movie. With a growl of
annoyance, he balled it up and strode shirtless back to the couch.

True to his word, after only ten minutes clacking
away on the keyboard, Konstantyn came up with an address for Gracie, along with
numerous photographs, a national insurance number and God knew what other
personal details. I made a mental note to be more secure about what I put
online in future. No wonder he’d found my apartment so readily. He really
hadn’t lied when he said hacking was just one of his many skills.

He snapped the laptop closed, dusted down his
thighs and stood. “I go alone,” he said, fisting the ripped shirt and pulling
it over his head.

“No way. I’m coming with you.” I scrambled to my
feet and attempted to square up to him. Macho man wasn’t getting his way on
this one. “We’re doing this for Daniel as much as for your sister.”

“No,” he snapped, shutting me down. He tried to
turn away, but I dogged him.

“I’ve already seen the address. I’ll make my way
there, with or without you.” No way I was letting him out that door alone. He’d
walk away with my last shred of hope and I’d never see him again.

“Do I have to tie you to the bed?”

He was joking, wasn’t he?

“Look,” I said, “Gracie and I have gotten pretty
close in the auditions. She gave me that card. I really think I can persuade
her to talk, without having to resort to violence. Besides, I’ll be safer with
you. Don’t leave me alone here. Please.” I was playing the distressed damsel
card, and he knew it.

He narrowed his eyes on me, but I could feel his
resistance weakening.

“You’ll do exactly as I tell you,” he said.

“I will, I promise. Now let me find you something
else to wear. If Gracie sees you in that blood-stained mess of a shirt, she’s
liable to clam right up.”

Much as I hated to see him cover up that
magnificent physique, I hunted in my closet and found him a sweatshirt that should
just about fit.

He looked it over suspiciously, as though
questioning if it belonged to a boyfriend.

“It’s one of Daniel’s,” I explained.

Cue the awkward silence.

Weirdly, though, I found it comforting, knowing
Konstantyn wore my hopes next to his skin. I prayed it would help him remember,
when the decisions got really rough, as I knew they must.

On the way out the door, Konstantyn tucked the
handgun into the waistband of his combats and we made a cautious run for the
Underground.

The address was a short walk from Camden Town tube
station. It was a non-descript Victorian terrace with a miniscule front garden.
Someone had tried to whitewash the sloppy pebbledash render with a coat of
paint, but that was where the maintenance ended. Weeds crawled up through the
cracks in the pavers, the garbage was overflowing and the windows were smeared
with city grime and framed by shabby, nicotine-stained curtains. Funny, I’d
expected the impeccably turned-out Gracie to live somewhere very different.
That was the thing with appearances, though. You could judge someone by them,
but that didn’t mean you knew them.

A row of doorbells indicated the house was divided
into four separate flats. Only one didn’t have a name: flat C, and that was the
one Konstantyn pressed.

After a few moments, Gracie’s unmistakable voice
sounded a tinny “Come on up, sugar,” through the intercom and the door lock
buzzed open. I cast Konstantyn a sidelong glance. She was hardly expecting us
to call. He merely shrugged and pushed the door wide. I followed him to the top
of the communal stairs and stood aside as he rapped on the door marked ‘C’.

There was noise, movement on the other side as the
latch was undone.

Then it went deathly quiet.

I guessed Gracie was eyeing us through the
peephole, and we weren’t who she’d been expecting.

Konstantyn’s patience lasted another two knocks
before he rammed the flimsy door with his shoulder, splintering the lock, and
knocking Gracie back from where she’d been silently spying on us.

She yelped in surprise as the momentum sent her
sprawling across the floor.

Handling the gun with the easy grace of a true pro,
Konstantyn trained the weapon on her face.

So much for the friendly enquiry approach.

“What do you want from me?” she asked, anxiously
eyeing first Konstantyn, and then me, with a look of naked terror. Trembling
hands rearranged her short, silk robe over her thighs. Her blonde hair
extensions were pushed back off her face revealing the dark wiry roots beneath,
and I got the impression she’d been doing her makeup when we called. I scanned
the room briefly, and spotted a collection of drugs paraphernalia on a
side-table: syringes, a spoon, baggies of powder and tablets.

Wow.
I looked again at Gracie, and this
time saw through the veil of her appearance. I noticed the telltale dark tracks
on the insides of her arms, and all I could think of was seeing those same
marks on Daniel’s arms in the morgue.

Anger lit like a flare behind my breastbone.

“You gave me that card for the club, Infernal,” I
said. “You lied about not knowing Daniel Raines. You were on tour with him last
year. You know something about my brother’s murder. Tell me.”

“I don’t know nothing. I swear,” she replied. Her
attempt at a smile came off as a sneer.

“You lie,” Konstantyn growled and pushed the
muzzle of the gun beneath her jaw. “Talk!” he demanded, curling his free hand
into a fist.

Gracie whimpered, crab-scuttling herself back
against the wall. She curled herself up defensively, like an abused dog that
knew what was coming next. “Don’t hurt me,” she pleaded.

Konstantyn looked at me, almost apologetic.

“What?”

“I don’t hit women,” he said stonily.

No, he wouldn’t, I thought, not after what he’d
told me about his father.

Gracie peeked out from behind her hands, like a
rabbit checking to see if the wolf was really gone.

This wasn’t going to work, I thought. I could see
her confession slipping away through her spread fingers and hopeful eyes.

“Here, allow me,” I said. I grabbed her roughly by
the lapels of her robe and cocked back my fist. I hadn’t punched anyone since
that time in the playground when I’d taken on a little bitch for calling Daniel
a lard-ass, but goddammit, I was mad, frustrated and desperate enough to resort
to violence if that’s what it took.

“Please,” she cried, cowering under me, “I swear
to you, I would never have hurt him. I’m just a go-between, a supplier. That’s
all.”

“Tell me everything,” I hissed.

“He’ll kill me,” she said shakily.

“Who?”

“Dante.”

“You work for him?”

She nodded grimly and pulled aside the shoulder of
her robe to reveal a peace symbol. “I don’t have a choice,” she said.

“Everybody has a choice,” I said, gritting my
teeth.

“You don’t understand,” Gracie said softly, and
there were tears welling up in her eyes.

“Help me understand then.”

She exhaled shakily. “He’ll have me killed if I
talk.”

“I’ll kill you if you don’t,” Konstantyn growled.

“What happened to not hitting women?” she
countered.

“I said I wouldn’t beat a woman with my fists. I
am not averse to putting a bullet in your head if you refuse to cooperate.”

“Please Gracie,” I said, hoping to appeal to her
conscience, “the lives of innocent people are at stake here.”

Her brows shot up. “Now you’re the good cop? Make
up your minds, people. I’m getting whiplash.” Gracie exhaled shakily. “Take
that thing outta my face and I’ll tell you what I know.”

Konstantyn backed off and Gracie plucked at the hem
of her robe as she spoke.

“Raider recruited me, two years ago. He likes them
athletic, and I fit the bill. He promised to hook me up with a really good job
in this private dance club in Chelsea he had connections with. Only, it turned
out I wasn’t to their taste.”

I popped a questioning brow at her.

“Because of this,” she said. She spread her
thighs, splitting the robe wide to reveal a full set of male genitals.

Wow, so my first impressions hadn’t been off the mark,
Gracie was trans.

Konstantyn cleared his throat and she closed her
legs, gifting him a wry grin.

“Surprised? Dante was too. Turns out he likes
cock,” she said, “and he likes titties too. Just not both at the same time, on
the same body. No accounting for taste.” She smiled sarcastically. “He beat me
to a pulp for it. I needed four rounds of plastic surgery just to put my face
back together. He was ready to kill me then, but Raider persuaded him I could
be an asset to their sick little set-up.

They put me to work, grooming potential recruits,
supplying the drugs. Dante doesn’t like to get his hands dirty with that kind
of thing. He told me if I talked, if I refused to cooperate, he was personally
going to make a woman out of me, the non-surgical way, and feed me my cock
until I choked on it. Then he said he’d kill my family. I’m a coward. I’ve seen
what he’s capable of. If you’d seen it for yourself, you’d be afraid too. You
wouldn’t be here.” She scrubbed her hair off her face and looked up at me with
her huge, sad eyes. “That first day you turned up at auditions? I had you
pegged as a perfect fit for him, but then you showed me that damn picture of
Danny and –” Tears welled up over her lower lids and rolled down her face in
black streaks. “I tried to warn you off, but you pushed,” she said. “I shoulda
never given you that card. I thought maybe you could blow the whistle on him,
but you can’t. Nobody can. Dante is too powerful, he’s everywhere.”

“Tell me about Daniel?” I said, dropping down on
my hunkers beside her.

Gracie pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket
of her robe and shakily lit up.

“Poor, beautiful Danny boy,” she said, exhaling a
thick cloud of smoke that stung my eyes. “He walked into those auditions
fresher than paint and harder than a Michelangelo. I knew right off he’d be
just the type they liked. And he was all about the ambition, talked non-stop
about carving a better life for him and his sister. I liked him, did what I
could at first to steer him away from Raider. We became friends, but he drank
up that bastard’s promises like dust drinks rain. Raider gave him just enough
rope: a place on the Beastrider tour, the MTV video fame.”