The Mercenary (17 page)

held on for dear life while he talked furiously to Mario.

A steely arm slammed across her throat as Mario lifted her easily off her feet. She dangled helplessly

between the two men.

Her jaw seemed locked, despite the arm across her windpipe. Lights danced before her eyes as the arm

across her throat pressed harder. She wanted to draw in a lungful of air, but she knew if she relaxed they

would take her.

Giorgio fired a command in Italian at Mario, who immediately pinched her nose between foul-smelling

fingers. Tory’s jaw unclamped as she sucked in great drafts of burning air through her mouth.

The metallic taste of blood was on her tongue and she spat it out. Right on Giorgio’s fancy handmade

shoes. She hung limply in Mario’s arms, his forearm still across her throat as she struggled to breathe.

Dizzy and faint, Tory forced her body to remain limp. She was beyond terrified. Death was preferable to

what she knew Giorgio was capable of doing to her. Oh, God. She couldn’t go through that again. She

just couldn’t.

Without warning she lashed out, both legs coming up and hitting Giorgio in the stomach, and he fell

backward with a cry. Mario, who was still holding her, started backing up in surprise, pulling Tory with

him as Giorgio staggered to his feet. She jerked out of his grip and swung her right arm up. Her cast hit

Giorgio across the nose with a satisfying crunch. Pain shot up her arm. Blood spurted from the man’s

broken nose.

Turning toward Mario, she used her knee with all her strength and he crumbled, screaming, cupping his

groin with both hands.

Leaping over his crouched body, Tory ran for the open door of the truck. Sliding across the seat she

fumbled with the door latch with her cast and frantically searched under the seat for the key.

The door wouldn’t lock. Straightening, she used her good hand to try to force down the little chrome

button, her heart in her throat. She leaned over and slammed down the button on the passenger side, but

the driver’s side wouldn’t lock, no matter how hard she tried.

She still couldn’t locate the key. Peering through the grimy window, she saw Giorgio shaking his head,

blood still spurting from his nose, as he lumbered between the vehicles toward her.

Where’s the key? Where the hell is that key? Tory ran frantic fingers under the seat again and again. The

key was gone. Sliding across the seat, she managed to unlock and fling open the passenger door. She

catapulted out and took off at a dead run. They were between her and the safety of the crowds. She had

no choice. There was an open field to her left. Beyond that a stand of trees that might offer some

protection. If she could make it.

Not looking back, she sprinted for the field, her bangs stuck to her forehead, wet with sweat. Her arm

throbbed painfully. Within seconds, the force of a body cannoning into her from behind took her down,

and she gasped in a mouthful of powdery dirt as she hit the ground.

Giorgio’s body pinned her as Tory twisted and kicked, screaming for help as she tried to escape from

beneath the knee he’d pressed into her back.

She was lying facedown, the weight of his body holding her firmly as she bucked and squirmed uselessly.

With a punishing grip, he flipped her over on her back, his face contorting murderously.

The cast was

handy for another swat. Unfortunately, this time it only connected with the side of his head. He roared his

rage.

Fatalistically, Tory saw his elbow lift. She closed her eyes tightly as his fist connected on her jaw with

brutal force.

VICTORIA, OPEN YOUR EYES. Wake up. Now!

Alex?Victoria’s eyes fluttered but refused to open.Alex, are you…are you all right?

Forcing open her eyes, she glanced around as she rotated her jaw. It ached.

She could hear her brother’s amusement in her mind.Honey, I’m fine. Let’s concentrate on you, okay?

Where are you hurt? Can you move?

Where are we?

The bowels of the earth, at the “hotel” Palazzo Visconti.His tone was rueful and bitter.Tell me what you

see.

The room was about ten feet by ten feet. Stained blocks of stone formed the walls, floor and ceiling. The

only furniture was the bed she was lying on—a bare dirty mattress that was cold and damp with mildew

and other things she didn’t want to identify.

There was a tiny window high in the wall above the bed that let in a little of dusk’s meager light. It was

certainly too high to reach and too small to crawl through even if she could. She stifled a groan.

Tory?Alex’s voice was near, but she still had to close her eyes to concentrate because he sounded

weak.How badly are you hurt?

She moved her jaw again, cautiously. It hurt, as well it should after the punch she’d taken from Giorgio’s

fist. Her broken arm throbbed under the cast.No major problems. There was absolutely no point in

having Alex worry needlessly.

Tory heard a door open and close nearby. She squinted at the door to her cell.

Constructed of heavy

dark wood, raw and stained with hundreds of years of moisture, it was banded by wide metal strips.

Very old but with a depressingly modern-looking locking device.

Alex?

She shifted restlessly on the narrow straw-filled cot.Alex?

There was no response.

She mentally called his name several times before she felt him inside her head again.What happened? she

asked frantically.

They’re coming your way. They thinkI’myour boyfriend, but it’s Marc they want. Do you hear me,

Tory? They want Phantom…. Don’t tell them.

Tory heard loud noises coming from down the hall where she knew Alex was being held and heard the

key grate in the lock on her door.

She was paralyzed with fear as three men came into the room, shutting the door behind them. “Good

evening, Miss Jones.”

She had only seen Christoph Ragno once when she was being held in Pescarna. The memory would live

with her for the rest of her life. Tory swallowed the bile threatening to choke her. “Why was I brought

here?” she demanded in a tone that reminded her of her grandmother. “I want to see the American

consul. You have no right to hold an American citizen like this.”

“You have no rights here, Miss Jones. I thought I had made that obvious the last time you visited

Marezzo.”

Tory forcibly pushed the memories aside, biting down hard on her lip to ground herself.

Coward or not,

she had to keep her head. Alex was close by and Marc was sure to figure out where they were.

Eventually. All she had to do was keep as calm as possible and not incite this man to violence.

Ragno’s head was too big for his body. His greasy hair could have been blond and clung thinly to his

pink scalp, and he had ears like sugar-bowl handles. His face was florid and shiny. Tory couldn’t control

the tremor that raced up her spine as his light brown eyes seemed to touch her skin.

“You had no right to detain me last time and even less so, now. You know that I’m—”

“I believe you already know Giorgio and Mario?” His lips stretched into a gruesome smile over large

teeth as he nodded toward the two men standing against the door.

Tory spared an unsympathetic glance at Giorgio’s swollen nose. Mario shot her a murderous look.

“What are you doing back on Marezzo, Miss Jones? I thought you had enough of our hospitality the last

time you visited?”

“I want to see the U.S. Consulate.” Tory told him, striving to sound calm when her insides shook at the

menace in his eyes.

“We have your lover, Miss Jones,” Ragno announced in a sibilant voice that grated on her nerves.

Did they mean Marc or Alex? Not that it mattered, she wasn’t in any position to ask without risking the

lives of one or both.

“He also says that he arrived in Marezzo for a vacation.” Ragno assessed her, his watery brown eyes

sharp. “He, of course, has been enjoying our hospitality for several months, awaiting your arrival.”

He was talking aboutAlex. She tilted her chin. “If some man said he’s my lover, then he lied to you. I

came here on my own. I arrived this morning from Naples.” She screamed as he grabbed her hair and wrenched her head up, exposing her throat. He held a small

sharp razor against her cheek.

“Stop lying,puttana. There was no flight from Naples today.” She stared at his face, inches from hers as he twisted her hair in his fist, and tears smarted in her eyes.

“I…I came on the mail boat.” Oh, God, she prayed that the mail boat had arrived this morning. She was

amazed at how easily the lies were popping out of her mouth.

She felt his hand relax slightly against her head, and she winced as he pulled her up close to his soft

body. “I will check on that.” Still gripping her hair in his fist, he jerked his head at Mario. The other man

nodded and slipped from the room.

The razor came up against her cheek again, icy cold as he pressed it to her face. She felt cold sweat

bathe her skin. “Where is Phantom, Miss Jones?”

Tory looked blankly at him. “Phantom? Who…”

Letting go of her hair, he slapped her. Hard. “Tell me where Phantom is.Now. ” Spittle sprayed her face

as he yelled. She flinched before his hand arced and he slapped her again, hauling her up as she slumped

sideways.

Tory sobbed. “I don’t know what you want. I don’t know anyone called Phan—” He hit her again, holding her head still as he wound the yard of hair in his fist.

Her head reeled and her face throbbed as she felt darkness closing in. Just before she passed out, he

released her hair, grabbing the front of her T-shirt instead. Holding her still, he brought the razor down

with a terrifying stroke that slashed the cloth from neck to hem.

CHAPTER TEN

TORY STAGGERED BACKWARDas he held the sharp instrument up. “I’ll give you one hour to

regain your memory, Miss Jones. Then I’ll let Giorgio pay you back for your little dance in the parking

lot. Giorgio isn’t as fond of the ladies as I am, are you, Gio? Or perhaps you’d prefer Mario? I know he

would like to prove to you that he is still very much the man.” He shoved her—hard. She hit the bed, sinking into the filthy mattress and gasping for breath, her ears

ringing from the blows.

In the dim recesses of her mind, she could hear Alex’s voice calling her name. She pushed him away

with her last scrap of strength. Her eyes locked on the pale shiny face of Ragno as he stood over her.

Tory’s whole body shook as he leaned closer and trailed the razor down the bare skin exposed by the

slashed shirt. “I enjoy playing as much as the next man, Miss Jones.” Ragno’s loathsome voice snaked

across her skin as he leaned in, close to her face. “Obviously, Giorgio didn’t warn you sufficiently on

your last visit. I can assure you that I have absolutely no compunction about the methods I’ll use to make

you talk. I’ll give you one hour to tell me where Phantom is.” Straightening, he jerked his head at Giorgio and the two men shut the door behind them.

Tory heard the

rasp of the key in the lock from the outside, and she cradled her hot cheek in her shaking hand.

She crouched on the bed, too weak to stand, staring unseeingly at the door. She shook so badly that she

couldn’t stay upright, and she allowed her body to roll back on the bed. Curling into a fetal position, she

felt the tears course down her face as she sobbed uncontrollably.

Victoria!

Alex! She couldn’t let him know. He’d go ballistic.

Damn it, Victoria, answer me. Right now.

She sat up, jamming her hand against her mouth to stop the jerky sobs she couldn’t prevent. And she

blocked her thoughts as hard as she could until she was calmer.

I’m all right.She managed, moments later. The lie held barely a tremor.

What did those bastards do to you?

Ragno knows that Marc’s here. Oh, God, Alex. He knows.

Calm down. He doesn’t know anything. Do you hear me, Tory? He doesn’t know squat.

He was fishing

and hoping, but he doesn’t know about Marc.

They’re coming back in an hour to get me…. Alex, I hate this.

I know you do, honey.Alex’s warm comforting voice came through loud and clear.Did you tell Marc

everything I told you?

Yes.

Relief bathed his words as he said calmly,Then he’ll come for us. Get yourself together and try to calm

down. Can you do that, Tory?

What’s the alternative?

That’s my girl.Alex gave a rusty laugh.Just hang in there.

She was hanging in there an hour later when the door opened. In the pitch-dark room, she had to squint

into the light from the hallway. Her heart sank to her toes when she saw the bulky outline of Giorgio.

The dim lighting couldn’t conceal the malevolent gaze directed at her over the swollen flesh of his broken

nose. “Capowants you. Upstairs.”

Clutching her ripped shirt between her trembling fingers, Tory gave him a wide berth as she went through

the door.

She’d managed to close the two pieces of fabric over her bra and belt it tightly around her waist so that

she was marginally covered. She shot him a dirty look when he leered at the exposed swell of her breasts

as she passed him.

“Right,” he instructed, walking behind her. Tory obediently turned right down the stone corridor. She felt

Alex two doors away, and drew strength from his thoughts.

The air was stifling. Hot and humid and heavy to breathe as Tory stumbled ahead of her guard. The

flashlight he held illuminated only a few feet in front of her and she stumbled on the uneven floor.