Recovery Road – Torpedo Ink Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
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Czar’s wife, Blythe, was the heart of their club. Without her, none of them would have a clue about humanity. Czar had been their moral compass growing up. He’d given them a code to live by, but they were killers—they had to be in order to survive. He’d brought them home with him to Blythe. She’d taken the club members in and taught them what unconditional love was. Not a single one of them had believed Czar when he’d told them about her—what she was like. Now they believed she could walk on water.

Nothing, no one, would have ever persuaded Master to enter a prison willingly again, with this one exception. Blythe. Czar’s children. All of them were adopted. Blythe had taken in the three girls. They’d rescued two from a trafficking ring; the third, their little sister, they’d gotten from the foster home so they could all be together. Then Kenny, a teenage boy the club had rescued on one of their missions. Last, little Jimmy, a boy being auctioned off to the highest bidder. She’d welcomed all of the children. Every last one of them.

“I was part of the second school.” Ludis gestured toward the others. “We all were. We didn’t want to be part of the Ghosts. We stuck together and went out on our own. Helena approached us and ended up hiring us for a few of her own jobs, separate from what the Russian wanted. She works for him, but she wanted her own teams loyal only to her.”

“Who is the Russian?”

Ludis shook his head. “Only Helena knows. At least she’s the only one who talks directly to him. Seriously, I never thought it was possible to meet one of you. I never would have gone after Prakenskii’s family had I known it was him. You have to believe me.”

Master waited for the attack. It was coming. Ludis was definitely working up his courage. “Why would Helena send you after them?”

“I have no idea. She started acting strange a few weeks ago. Secretive. She always talked to us. All of a sudden, she went very closed mouth. She began going to a kink club in San Francisco regularly and wanted a couple of us with her to have her back. It isn’t all that easy disappearing out of here weekend after weekend like she wanted us to.”

Ludis made his play, coming at Master with a number of fast snapping front kicks to drive him back and into the position he wanted him. Master simply stood still, on the balls of his feet, legs shoulder width apart, blocking every kick with a smooth bat of his palm. He moved with blurring speed, suddenly gliding on the floor with his body, catching his legs between his opponent’s and rolling, taking him down in a scissor move.

Ludis hit the cement floor belly first, Master coming down hard on top of him, his fist hammering hard several times in his kidneys. He planted his knee on Ludis’ spine and trapped his head in his hands, snapping the neck with a hard jerk.

Kir Vasiliev would leave this prison very soon. The charges against him would be dropped. All evidence would be proved false. He would go back to his club and be their numbers man, bury himself in his music and working with wood, in the things that kept him sane—he hoped. Absinthe would come for him.

It wasn’t like he had the information the club had hoped for, but they were a step closer—and he’d gotten this assassination team. Helena might think twice before she sent her second team after Czar’s family. Could she afford to lose more of her men? She’d have to weigh that price tag. Consider what it would mean to pit her people against Torpedo Ink. She’d lose her teams, one man after another. She had to know who they were and where they came from.

Master made certain there wasn’t a trace of blood on him. He’d been careful of his clothes and boots. He hadn’t wanted to use a knife. Often, when one stabbed or sliced into flesh, you cut your own skin, leaving behind traces. He hadn’t. He was too professional for that shit. Still, he was meticulous, going over every inch of what would become a crime scene in the morning when the bodies were discovered.

He had to make certain the guards’ phones didn’t contain any evidence that he had been the prisoner they were bringing to Ludis and his crew. He took his time, not hurrying, not letting nerves get to him. When he made his way back to his cell, he was just as careful, not touching anything, not allowing a camera to pick him up. He also made doubly certain he followed the exact route the guards had taken him, back through the narrow hallway only the privileged used, so no prisoner spotted him as he let himself once again into his solitary confinement cell.


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