Domino (The Domino Trilogy) (45 page)

The room swung back and forth then, and I sank backwards onto a chef’s stool. “I don’t see how.”

Elzbeta set her own razor blade down on the counter with a
clink.
  “I know it’s hard, Domino. But you won’t have to do it often. He doesn’t require it at every session. And you can control things a bit. You are a Dominant. Make it a part of the game. Make him work hard for it. Though Bluschencko doesn’t always play by the rules, he enjoys a good game. He views everything in his life as one giant chess match.”

I rubbed my temples. “So what you’re saying is, I have the ability to control when---or
if
---I actually have to do this.”

“In theory. Though you’ll find that
Bluschencko isn’t easy to dominate. You’ll find he isn’t like the usual submissive who just blindly obeys orders. He’ll start ordering you around instead. He wants to control everything, even how he is dominated.”

I didn’t exactly have a lot of experience as a dominatrix---my experience added up to a single sixty-minute session with Ludwig, along with what I’d conjured up inside my own head. But
Elzbeta and the other girls had said that my inexperience could be an asset here. “I could still try,” I said.

“Yes, you could. But keep your expectations low. In the meantime, I’ll work on a Plan B.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what exactly you mean by that.”

She sighed. “I don’t want to get your hopes up only to have them dashed. I promise I will try, but you won’t know why or how unless it actually works out. Remember that it’s next to impossible to communicate with the outside world here. I have a few more options than you do, but not many.”

“How will I know if it works out?”

Elzbeta gave me a strange half-smile. “Oh, you would know. In fact, everyone would. And therein lies the danger.”

SEVENTEEN
 

I practiced cutting lines in meat for another half an hour, then set my razor blade down on the counter in disgust. “I’m not doing this anymore,” I announced more to the air than to
Elzbeta. “I just can’t.”

“You’ll have to,”
Elzbeta said as she called the cook back in to rehang the meat in the freezer. I shuddered at the thought it might show up in one of our meals later on; after what I’d done I didn’t think I’d ever be able to eat beef again. “Bluschencko won’t ever let you go if you don’t.”

“That’s assuming you don’t get me out of here first.”

She sighed. “You see, this is exactly what I meant about getting your hopes up. I probably shouldn’t have said anything about it at all.”

“And yet you’d have tried to spring me loose even without telling me.”

Elzbeta closed her eyes, ran her fingers through her short locks. “Yes, I would have. But we won’t be discussing the matter any further. Not with each other, and certainly not with anyone else. That is an order, from me to you.”

“But----“ She held up her hand to silence me. I wanted to ask how she expected to plan my escape if she couldn’t discuss it with anyone, but figured she operated by a different set of rules. As did everyone in
Bluschencko’s world.

I decided to change the subject. “How did you come to be here,
Elzbeta?”

She shot me an angry look. “I thought I established that we don’
t talk about our past lives.”

“You’ve already told me some of yours.”

“I told you about my past here at the House of Pleasure, not who I was or where I came from before. That is a secret I shall take to my grave.”

“Is
Elzbeta your real name?”

Her mouth became a thin line. “Yes. I chose to keep it once I came here.”

“Where are you from?” I already had a strong suspicion it wasn’t England. Her British accent was almost too perfect, and she’d dropped it in my presence once when her guard was down. “You’re from around here, aren’t you? Sevastopol?”

She stiffened. “You’ve already asked too many questions, Domino. Please go back to your room and don’t leave it until I summon you.” The hard set of her jaw
indicated she would tolerate no more insolence from me. Rather than risk ruining my good rapport with her, I obeyed and went back to my room.

All the comfortable pajamas and robes were gone
now. My choices were to wear either leather or PVC bondage outfits or go naked. Bluschencko’s orders, surely. I selected what I thought would be the least uncomfortable of the bondage outfits----a simple leather corset, lightly boned, with a matching set of leather shorts. No stockings, no shoes, no domino mask. I left the top two grommets of the corset unlaced; my breasts were small enough I could get away with it without them popping out. I laid back on the bed, propping myself up on pillows so I could write some more on the paper tablet kept in the nightstand, the same one I’d used for the shorthand message I’d smuggled out via Ludwig. But when I went to retrieve it, it was gone, along with the pen.

I began to panic then. Someone had searched the room----someone who knew exactly what I’d been using that pen and paper for. But who?
Elzbeta? Katerina? Someone else? Why?

I had to assume that whoever had done it knew what I had done with Ludwig, and aimed to foil my plans. There would be consequences; the only question was how horrific. It crossed my mind that my new role as
Bluschencko’s personal mistress might well have been punishment for my defiance, rather than a reward for my talents as he’d presented it to my face. It was a strange and convoluted possibility, but here in the ironically named House of Pleasure we were well beyond anything making sense.

My fear and anxiety
had reached a boiling point. With nothing else to do to occupy my mind, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, to no avail. My brain raced with a hundred frightening thoughts----who knew my secret, what else Bluschencko would do to punish me, how my parents would react when they found out what had happened to me, if they ever did at all----until I thought I would drown in sheer terror and pain. This was not the good kind of pain, either. It was the kind of pain that you would almost prefer to kill yourself to avoid.

Now I understood why
Elzbeta had presented suicide as an option. It didn’t look all that bad under the circumstances. But I lacked the courage to do it---or perhaps the cowardice, depending on how you looked at it.

I gazed down at my body as if seeing it for the first time. I didn’t recognize myself in the tight bondage leather, even if I was only half-clad instead of in full Domino regalia. How had I come to be this way? I had to confess I enjoyed being a Dominant even more than I’d enjoyed
submitting to Rostovich, but to occupy the role without a passive subject to master rang hollow. Not only that, I was no longer a willing participant. I understood now why Rostovich had been so adamant about playing by the rules. Without them, the game was more like a war---and I was a casualty, an unfortunate piece of collateral damage.

At some point I managed to doze off into a dreamless slee
p. I don’t know how long I was out, only that something startled me awake in the dead of night. Or rather, someone. Someone I never expected to see again, let alone in this room, in this place---a secret sex den run by a criminal syndicate thousands of miles away from where I’d last seen him.

“Nancy. Nancy, wake up. There isn’t much time.”

Rostovich.

I heard his voice as if
through a vast channel of water. He shook me, which in my deep state of unconsciousness felt like a small earthquake. My sleeping mind assumed I was dreaming and ignored him. He finally slapped me hard across the face, and the pain-pleasure from the blow finally jolting me awake.

Oh.

I squinted to see in the pitch darkness. I could make out only shadows, but Rostovich’s voice was unmistakable: “Nancy, come on. Get up. Otherwise I’ll have to carry you, and that will just make things harder than they already are.”

I struggled to sit up. My corset lacing had tangled
itself in my sleep, tightening it so much I could barely move. Rostovich somehow sensed this in the darkness and slipped a firm hand under the small of my back, lifting me up. Then he grabbed both my hands and pulled hard until I could swing my legs over the side of the bed and plant my feet on the floor. “What are you doing here?” I blurted out far too loudly.

“
Shhh! Never mind. We need to get out of here. You can ask questions later.”

“But---“

“Nancy, please shut the fuck up and do as I say.”

I clamped my mouth shut and obeyed. My heart raced with excitement and fear;
Rostovich, my first love, my Dominant, the man who had taken my virginity and introduced me to a new and sensual world, was here. He’d come to rescue me, or so I assumed. But then again, the past few weeks had taught me never to assume anything. I could very well be jumping into yet another trap.

But there was no time to second-guess
my choices. Leaving with Rostovich in the middle of the night was better than staying here and facing the alternative with Bluschencko. I’d cast my lot with my lover, and damn the consequences.

Rostovich
took my hand and led me out into the corridor. He felt his way along in the dark, and seemed to know his way around. I wanted to ask him a hundred questions at once---how he had found me, why was he here, why did he seem to know the layout of the House of Pleasure like the back of his hand----but I didn’t dare speak.

We finally came to a door.
In the pitch darkness, I did not know whether it was the main entrance where I’d first stepped inside the House of Pleasure or another one, but Rostovich seemed to know exactly where we stood. There was an illuminated numerical keypad on the door; he punched in a five-digit code and the magnetic lock disengaged, disabling the alarm system, allowing us to exit---and raising yet another question in my mind. How did he know how to get past security? Why did he seem so at home here? Had he set me up from the very beginning? Why on earth was I trusting him? He quite literally held my life in his hands.

There was no time to think about any of this. He flung the door open and dragged me along behind him. His pace quickened to a run;
soon I felt the damp, cold grass underneath my bare feet. The air was chilly and a light fog danced over the ground, obscuring not only our escape but also the path in front of us. I was terrified, bleary from sleep, and nowhere near dressed for the weather. But I was free.

At least for now.

EIGHTEEN

We ran through the forest for what seemed like hours, but might have only been a few minutes. Between my bare feet, state of undress, and the frigid Ukrainian night, time seemed to slow down. We finally came to a clearing where a battered Jeep was waiting for us, its engine idling.

Rostovich
climbed in through the open window on the rear passenger side. “Door’s broken,” he explained, reaching a hand out to help me inside. I grabbed it and clambered over the windowsill, landing on the cracked leather upholstery inside. The jeep’s interior was a rusty greenish-brown, an ancient military vehicle likely of World War Two vintage. Rostovich nodded to the bearded driver, who sped off into the night.

“How on earth did you find me?” I asked once we’d gone about five hundred yards.

“Julian got your fax. He called me as soon as he read it.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “I took a chance that Julian could read shorthand.”

“Julian is fluent in six languages, along with several forms of code, of which shorthand is one,” Rostovich said. “You’d be surprised some of the skills Navy SEALs pick up. Good thinking on that, by the way.”

“Thank you. Only it seems Julian is wasting his talent as a hotel concierge.”

“Hardly, given his clientele.” Rostovich reached over and patted my hand, his features dimly illuminated by the moon and the Jeep’s headlights. “I’m so glad I found you when I did. Between your message and Hannah’s frantic calls, I was worried I’d never see you alive again.”

“Hannah? Oh my God, how is she?”

“Fine, if a little worse for wear. Her parents called me from the hospital where she’d been taken outside Montreal. I spoke to her the next day, once the doctors got her stabilized. She’s expected to make a full recovery.”

“Oh, thank God.” I paused as the rest of the news sank in. “Montreal, did you say?”

“Yes. The authorities estimate that Bluschencko’s plane took off with you somewhere in a remote area just north of there. You were fortunate he chose that location, since unidentified planes are known to get shot down over U.S. airspace.”

I hadn’t thought about that. The impact of just how much I’d managed to survive was only beginning to sink in. My mind raced with more questions than I could count. “Why? Why did this happen to us? To
me?
And why did you come all this way?
”

Rostovich
clutched both my hands tight. “There’s so much to tell you. And I want to explain everything. But we aren’t out of danger yet. We’re still on Bluschencko’s property----it stretches for miles in these parts----and I’m guessing your absence has probably been discovered by now. I don’t want to tell you anything until we’re clear, just in case you’re recaptured.”