Seven+Four (Angels of Wrath Book 6)

How is it possible that I can smell Uri’s scent on my clothes? Is it because I live at his house? His rich smell permeating the air must have penetrated all my garments as I moved around.

And I’m thinking about him again. Even though I’m spending a nice time with Sully and Ren. They’re talking about university. Sully seems quite excited, asking Ren a bunch of questions. He’ll move to campus in a month. They won’t be sharing the same room, though. Ren has his own place, and Sully insisted on trying to live in the dormitory for at least six months.

He looks ready. A little nervous, but who wouldn’t be. I was terrified; going to college at fifteen was quite stressful. I didn’t enjoy the student life like others, too young and busy with my studies. But Sully is nineteen, brave and outgoing. He’ll integrate in no time.

That reminds me of the talk I had with Michael. He told me he saw Trent at a café near the university. He started working at the University of Illinois a few weeks ago, after moving back from Seattle, I think. Michael teaches in a different department, but bumping into each other must not be so uncommon. Michael said Trent asked after me. I don’t know how I feel about all this. About him. Not after what has happened with Uri.

I’ll see Trent at my lecture since he texted me he’ll be there. But do I care about his presence?

“I’ll be on campus to give a lecture on Friday,” I tell Ren, trying to clear my head.

“I saw it in the course material. The lecture hall is a twenty-minute walk from the veterinary building. I have to talk to a teacher, but I’ll pass by if I can make it.”

“Hope you’ll give more lectures so that I can come too in the future,” Sully says sweetly.

“I definitely will.” I smile and take a sip of orange juice. My eyes find the nature outside the kitchen window; it’s a white smooth blanket of quiet. Rague has quite a few acres of vegetation around his cottage; it looks lovely in spring. I’m so taken by my work sometimes I forget to just…stay still and enjoy.

Ren’s snort brings me back to the kitchen.

“Do you know a club called Madame Claudette’s?” He’s frowning at his phone.

I shake my head.noveldrama

“Why?” Sully asks, placing two slices of cheesecake in front of us on the wooden dining table. I quickly dive into it. Ollie makes the best cheesecakes.

“I think Lori texted me this message by mistake.” He shows us the text.

Bones is what Lori calls Michael, and Super Model is Uri.

“Madame Claudette’s… Isn’t it one of those exclusive places?” Ren makes a suggestive face I don’t understand. “I think I heard Rami talking about it to Hunter.”

“What kind of exclusive places?” I whisper. I have an ominous feeling all of a sudden.

“Ah, maybe I’m wrong. It could be a boring gentlemen’s club.”

“Like one where women are banned and whiskered men drink scotch and smoke cigars while reading newspapers in front of a fireplace?” Sully gives us a very vivid image.

I can’t picture Uri in a place like that, though, if they still exist.

“Women are not banned, I can assure you.” I know what Ren is implying now, and the images that his words evoke make my heart lose a beat.

I stand up and move toward the sofa a few feet away, hearing Sully’s laugh. I tap on Lori’s contact, but it goes to voicemail, so I go for Michael’s.

“What’s Madame Claudette’s club?” I ask, without giving him a chance to speak as he picks up.

“Who told you about it?”

“Does it matter?” When he doesn’t reply, I continue, “Does Uri go there?”

There’s a moment of silence. “Yes, he’s a member.” Raph is the one to answer.

Another of his secrets comes to light. Another stab to the chest.

“What kind of club is it?”

“It’s an establishment that caters to individuals with specific tastes.”

“What tastes, Raph?” My voice is trembling, and I’m glad I’m sitting on the sofa or my legs would have given out under me.

“If you really want to find out, you should go see for yourself.”

“Raph, no!” I hear Michael scold him.

“He’s the one who wants to know, babe.”

Yes, I do. Of all my brothers, Raph is the only one who treats me like a proper adult. He shields me from the outside world just like the others do, but he also encourages me to have my own experiences to make my own mistakes. To just be.

“Maybe he’ll even find his taste.” Raph means sexual taste, doesn’t he? I already know mine; it’s the reason why Uri didn’t want me to touch him last night—after he made me come. Isn’t it? I need answers.

“Send me the details,” I breathe out.

“It opens at nine.”

“Sari…” Michael doesn’t say anything else, but his voice sounds uncertain and almost tortured.

“Don’t tell Uri,” I say before ending the call. The phone is shaking in my hands as Serena announces Lori and Gabe’s arrival. I can see Gabe’s car driving down the cottage driveway on the large screen near the front door.

My head is spinning like a whirlwind when they make their way inside a few moments later. I leave the sofa and take a few steps toward them. Lori is as bubbly as always, but his smile drops when his eyes find mine.

“Did you know?” I ask him.

“Know what?” Gabe asks.

I glance at him before looking back at Lori. “Madame Claudette’s. You texted Ren instead of Michael.”

“Oh.” Lori looks relieved for a moment, but then he curses loudly while checking his phone.

“You knew Uri was a member,” I accuse him. Why has he been encouraging me to go for him, when he knew about the club?

“I discovered it a while back.” I see remorse on his face, but it doesn’t make me feel better. “But we all know who he wants; it doesn’t matter if he’s going to the club tonight,” Lori quickly adds.

“Tonight?” I snap. Oh God, I’m such an idiot. That’s why he didn’t order me to come back to the lake house. Me, sleeping here actually turned out perfect for him.

“We all knew about Madame Claudette’s,” Gabe decides to let me know. “It was never a secret.”

Oh, but it was. “Of course you all did. As usual, I’m the only one in the dark.” The weak, naive brother who can’t protect himself. I can feel their pitying gazes heavy on me.

“What he does there, Angel⁠—”

I interrupt Lori’s explanation, “No! I’ll soon find out what Uri actually does there.”

“What—?”

I spin and walk down the corridor, going inside Rague and Ollie’s room. I sit on their bed. Why am I even this upset? We fooled around a couple of times, and once I was under the influence. For him it must have been nothing. Does he even know how I feel about him? How I’ve always felt? Does he care? Of course he doesn’t, he’s a sociopath.

A bitter laugh leaves my lips. I see a shadow moving toward me as Sully stops on the threshold.

“What do you call…when you feel both relieved and in pain?” I ask, my voice breaking on the last word.

“Lost?”

I nod. “Yeah, that’s exactly it.”

I have always thought my relationship with Uri was like a huge wave. An overwhelming wave that swept me in one direction, then the other, almost drowning me. Then left me to dry on the seashore, still craving the all-consuming feeling only he can arise inside me.

My feet are sweating in the delicate red slippers that the woman behind the counter in Madame Claudette’s lobby offered me. As I make my way down the plain staircase, cushioned only by a thin carpeting over stone, I notice stares of appreciation from strangers. My breath catches as a nauseating sensation surges through me, not because other men are looking at me, but because Uri probably sent that same heated stare to someone else.

I walk straight to the bar; the slippers make no sound on the sparkly white floor. The red marble counter feels cold as I grab the edge to sit on one of the high stools. The weak yellow lights cast an eerie glow over the large room. There are few people sitting on the purple velvet sofas situated all around. Some half naked, kneeling, kissing, laughing, others in weird positions like the guy who’s being used as a footrest or the woman wearing a collar and neighing like a horse while her owner parades her around.

I don’t know what kind of place this is, but I’m way out of my comfort zone. For a moment, I think about leaving. But I’m tired of running away. I clench my hand and keep looking around. I don’t see Uri, but I know he’s here. Rami used the tracker under his ear to get his location. He’s not supposed to do it, but I asked, and although my brothers treat me like a kid, they can also never say no to me. They still felt the need to let me hear their strong oppositions to my coming here—objections I ignored.

I pull on the black bracelet around my wrist. The sight of it makes me want to rip it off since it’s a clear reminder of my unrequited love.

When the bartender comes my way, I try to ask about Uri, but I soon learn that it’s all anonymous, and strictly against the rules to disclose members’ identities. From the corner of my eye, I see someone taking the chair near me, even though there’s many unoccupied.

“Hey, little thing, are you interested in some fun?”

I turn my face to the man, and the first feeling that hits me is caution. He feels and looks slimy, with his spiked, gelled hair and large smirk.

“I’m looking for my…someone.”

“I’m better than someone, little thing.” His leery eyes are stripping me bare. He’s handsome, but there’s something dark in his blue eyes. I’m not afraid, but I’ve seen those same shadows in my brothers’ gazes, and let’s face it, they aren’t the purest souls.

“No, thank you.” I try to stay still when his hand lands on my forearm.

“If you change your mind, I can make you forget about them in a heartbeat.” His grip tightens before he releases me and leaves.

That wasn’t so bad.

“An ex?” I turn toward the voice. There’s a guy two seats down from mine. He’s slick, built, and looks nice, but does nothing for me.

“No,” I simply reply, thanking the bartender for the gin and tonic.

“You look lost. Maybe I can point you in the right direction. What are you into?”

“I’m—” I can’t finish the sentence and blush instead.

“Don’t feel embarrassed, this is the place where your desires can come true. No judgment.” He points at a guy who’s sucking on a pacifier while snuggling on an older man’s lap.

“And it’s not always about sex. Some people just need to be someone else or their real self for a few hours.”

What is Uri doing here then? He can be himself at the base. Is there more to him I don’t know about? The thought hurts so badly.

“You look pale. Scott, a shot of vodka,” the nice guy calls the bartender. “Here, drink this.” He hands me the little glass a few seconds later.

As soon as I down it, a loud cough rips out of my chest. My throat is on fire.

“You fucking act like you need someone to take care of you. Are you a submissive or a little?”

“A what?” I gasp out, trying to clear my voice.

“Guess not. What are you doing here?” He looks at me with a curious expression.

“I told you I’m looking for someone.”

“We don’t do names here. Describe him.”

“He has long dreads and piercings all over his face.”

“I think that’s the Pain Giver. Does he have I’ll-kill-you-if-you-come-closer brown eyes?”

I nod with my mouth open in shock. “Pain Giver?”

“That’s what he’s called around here. I saw him going toward the rooms a few minutes before. He always takes guys into room three.” He whistles, pointing to my right at a dark corridor. “Once, by mistake, I entered the gallery and got a peek, but I’m not really into D/S, B&D, and all that sadomasochistic stuff.”

His words splinter something inside me. Cold sweat envelops me while my head feels on fire. Every searing thought flows out of me in the form of tears. One drop, two drops, three, four, fivesixseveneightnineten until I lose count. It feels like Uri lifted me up so high in the air over the sky, the moon and the stars, and then dropped me to the ground. I’m still coming down, a fast free fall. I can hardly breathe; what happens when I crash?

“I’m…what…am I doing…here? Such an idiot.” I can barely get the words out.

Another shot is pushed in front of me, and I gulp it down.

“Don’t feel stupid, just remember some people voted for Donald Trump,” the nice guy tries to joke, but I can’t find any mirth left in me.

He’s giving me a pitiful look. God, I hate that look.

“Drink.”

Another shot goes down.

“Better?”

“Worse.” The tears keep rolling down, but I’m not sure if it’s because of Uri or the burning sensation the vodka is creating.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were serious about him, I’ve never seen him with the same guy here. I expected more of an angry soap opera reaction.”

Maybe I should do that.

“I have to leave you now. My pet is here. Do you want me to call you a cab?” He pats my head like you’d do…a pet.

“No,” I sniff pathetically. “I have a driver and two bodyguards waiting for me outside.”

“Okay. If you decide to try something new, come visit us in room six. You can watch if you want.”

I nod as he leaves, but I know what I have to do. It’s the reason why I came to the club. I take a couple of deep breaths and suck some courage inside my body as I slide off the stool and wipe off the tears from my cheeks. I don’t feel drunk, and that’s okay, I need to see this with clear eyes. I need to see the Pain Giver.

I slowly but purposefully walk toward the black corridor. There are gray doors on each side, the numbers are not in order. I can hear a moan coming from room number nine, then a scream. I quickly step away and keep going until I get to room three’s gallery. My trembling hand grabs the knob, and I let out a long trembling breath as I open the door and step inside. My heart feels like it is about to leap out of my chest.

“Cry for me!” It’s the first thing I hear. Uri’s voice, the exact same words and the exact same tone he used with me.

My stomach lurches, my whole present narrows down to him and him alone. He steals my undivided attention, wearing black leather pants and a black button-up shirt with rolled sleeves. In his hand is a long whip that almost reaches his bare feet. It feels like I’m having one of my X-rated dreams where Uri is the protagonist. But my usual heart-pounding euphoria is missing.

A whimper resounds, and it’s like a veil is lifted from my eyes and I can see my surroundings. The king bed covered in black and gray silk sheets, the table filled with sex toys and condoms, and the whimpering man tied to a wooden pole wearing only lace lingerie and fishnet stockings.

The scene in front of me is like a mental punch in the gut. My stomach lurches again, but this time my dinner is dangerously close to climbing back up.

The guy turns his face toward me. He has a ball gag in his mouth, long black hair tied in a braid, pale skin, a frail constitution, and blue eyes so similar to mine but filled with utter ecstasy. As soon as I realize how alike we are, I can’t keep it in anymore. The contents of my stomach go right onto the red carpet. I kneel on the floor near one of the chairs facing the glass wall and grab a napkin from the table on my right to clean my mouth.

My eyes move again to the scene of their own will. The long, thin, red marks on the man’s back are from the whip—the whip that Uri is holding. Those are the marks of envy and betrayal—a betrayal so deep, so bitter, it is making a hole into my chest.

Uri growls—such a hot sound. I can read eagerness and bliss in the tense lines of his jaw and shoulders, not for me but for him.

What did I expect? This is a sex club. And Uri likes to make people suffer. Why didn’t I ever connect the dots? He doesn’t find me disgusting. He simply doesn’t want to give it to me, but this guy, he looks like a regular for Uri’s attention.

I focus on him again and the pleasure filling his features. Ones so similar to mine. Did I remind Uri of him? It’s crazy, but when I saw them at first, I thought he stole from me when perhaps I took something that was his. Uri just took pity on me because I was high, and then again when I was shaken up because of the stalker. I made all the rest up.

Can a heart shatter this quietly? Because mine has just exploded, but I can’t hear a single sound.

It’s like the carpet was yanked from under my feet, and I’m lost in the dreadful expanse of this club. The strangled noise leaving my lips echoes into the gallery. It makes Uri slowly turn toward the glass wall where I am. For the first time in my life, I feel disgusted by the thought of him near me. Looking at me. Touching me.

An overwhelming impulse to flee the room engulfs me, and I yield to it. I turn and once again run away. There’s a funny ringing in my ears, and I have to stop for a moment to lean against the black wall and take a deep breath. My vision turns blurry, and I feel cold even though my heart is racing. Everything feels fictitious, disjointed. It shakes me down to my soul. The number seven on the door in front of me comes into sharp focus, and I remember the words of the nice guy at the bar. Was it room seven?

I hear heavy footsteps coming my way and a bellowing voice. Gritting my teeth, I turn the handle and get inside the room, quickly closing the door behind me. I don’t know if it was Uri or if he saw me in the gallery, but I saw him, and I wish I didn’t.

“Hello.” A male voice makes me spin around with a gasp.

It’s not the nice guy. It’s the other one. The one who hit on me after I sat down at the bar. He’s sitting on a chaise lounge with a glass in his hand. Is he alone? I don’t see anybody else in the room.

“Changed your mind? This must be my lucky night.” He smiles too smugly. Annoyingly so. But that dark, confident stare, I think it can help me right now.

“Can you really make me forget?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He slowly straightens and stands up like a panther ready to pounce. “If you are into certain kinks.” He takes a sip from his glass before adding, “The submissive kind.” His teeth shine under the rose lights.

“Sounds good,” I hear myself reply.

If he dominates me, I’ll become helpless, thoughtless. I won’t keep replaying that awful scene over and over in my head. In front of my eyes.

I see a sink on the right and go wash my face and mouth.

“No sex,” I tell him as I dry my hands.

“How can I not oblige? But know that I’d be willing if you reconsider,” he clarifies. “Safe word?”

I know what he’s talking about, and I don’t need to think too hard. “Four.”

“Four. Alright. Take off your clothes, leave the underwear on.”

Uri’s familiar scent washes over my senses as I remove my sweater and shirt, but the memory of him with that guy makes me move faster. My mind is reeling.

Am I really doing this?

“Red lace. Nice. Kneel on the bed. Arms out.” As I do what he orders, I notice he took the robe he was wearing off, and now he’s only in his blue silk boxers.

He ties my hand to the bed’s headboard tight enough to hurt. It feels good and off at the same time.

His thumb brushes over the number four burned on my inner wrist. “A lucky number, perhaps?” he asks me, still sporting that wolfish smile.

“The opposite,” I mutter.

His low whisper reaches my left ear. “You’re about to experience paradise.” Something cold brushes my back. It’s smooth and flat. “Just do what I fucking say.”

His voice feels wrong. Bile is coming up my throat again, but I stay put. I need this. Need to erase Uri from my head.

“Give me the pain,” I let out between gritted teeth.

“As you wish.” I can hear the delight in his tone.

Twenty-two years ago

Project: Blood Assassin

Subject: Seven

Day 700

Time 18:03

Subject Seven’s experiment is showing promise.

Pain seems to amuse the Subject. Inflicting it, not receiving it.

One of the guards entered Seven’s cell today to give him his daily corporal beating. The electric rod was defective, and the Subject took advantage of the situation, using a loose brick to hit the guard in the head. Then Seven proceeded to zap him in the face, stomach, and groin. The satisfied smile and eagerness in the Subject’s eyes were proof enough of Seven’s deep gratification in causing the guard’s suffering. We can trigger more events in the future and decide from there how to proceed.

The Subject is also an innate manipulator. Seven has a good read on people, using their weaknesses against them. It could be troublesome, but I believe we can turn it to our advantage with some extra coercion.

What is concerning is Seven’s impulsiveness, stubbornness, and rebellious behavior, which are all prolonging some phases of the experiment. We need to find a better way to subdue the Subject.

So many interesting possibilities to explore and force on him.