She managed to scratch her finger and poke herself twice before she heard the click.
She grinned and cracked open the door.
There was no sign of anyone in the wide hallway.
Saskia darted out, her pulse racing. When she reached the stairs, she heard deep voices talking below.
Crap.
She pulled back. She needed another way down.
She darted back down the hallway, trying to keep her steps quiet. The plush carpet helped. The doors lining the hall were all closed. From one, she heard a woman crying.
Her steps faltered. Was it Addie? Addie was here somewhere, and obviously other women as well. She straightened her shoulders. The best way to help them was to get out and get help.
She spotted a smaller internal stairway.
Yes.
She hurried down. She ended up in an area of the mansion that clearly belonged to the workers. An area where they could do their jobs without being seen or heard. She heard pots and pans banging in a kitchen. Voices were talking inside another room. She peeked in. It was a laundry. There were several women in black and white uniforms folding sheets.
Saskia rushed past. Then she heard male voices speaking in Russian.
Oh, no. Her heart lodged in her throat. The voices were getting closer.
She yanked open the nearest door. It was a storage cupboard. She slipped in, pressed up against mops and brooms, and tugged the door closed.
She heard the men pass by and let out a shuddering breath. Adrenaline pulsed through her, and her hands were shaking.
Once everything was quiet again, she slipped out.
She passed the kitchen. Steam billowed from some pots on the stove, but there was no one in sight.
Then she spied a cell phone resting on the counter beside a handheld radio and a set of keys.
Her heart rapped against her ribs.
She darted out and snatched the phone. She hurried around a corner and thumbed the screen.
It wasn’t locked. Yes. It had a logo of a fountain on the screen that looked like the one outside. It must be a house phone.
Killian was out of the country, and she figured there was a decent chance she was in California. She licked her lips. Plus, she knew Cam’s phone number by memory.
She tapped it in. “Please, pick up. Please, pick—”
“Morgan.”
The sound of his rough voice made her feel weak. “Cam!”
“Fuck, Saskia. Are you all right? Where are you?”
“I’m okay.” A sob welled. “They took me. I’m not sure where I am—”
“Ty che blyad?”
A man in a suit rushed her, knocking the phone out of her hand.
“Cam!” she screamed.
The guard rammed her into the wall, knocking the air out of her. He smacked her again, and her head hit the plaster. Dazed, she could barely stay on her feet.
The man brought his shoe down on the phone and it crunched.
Despair speared into her. No, she wouldn’t lose hope. Cam knew she was alive, that someone had taken her.
The man grabbed a fistful of her shirt, glowering at her. He yanked her, and she tried to kick him.
With another curse in Russian, he picked her up.
She fought, she twisted, she tried to bite him, but he subdued her with his giant hands. He hauled her down the corridor and into a large living area.
It had a stone floor, leather couches, and an enormous stone fireplace. All it needed was an Italian count.
Her captor dropped her on her feet. She tossed her head back and froze.
Instead of an Italian count, she got an older man with a large, double chin, gray hair, and a designer suit. The suit stretched over a body that may have once been fit but had gone soft. He sat in the armchair like it was a throne.
“Ah, Ms. Hawke.” He had a heavy Russian accent. “You are even more beautiful in person.”
Saskia swallowed. The man rose from the armchair, the lights flashing on the large gold rings on his fingers.
“I love the way you dance,” the man said.
“Let me go,” she said. “You can’t just kidnap people.”
“I am Yaroslav Mikhailov. And I do as I please.”
“She tried to escape,” the guard said.
“Ah, I admire your spirit.” The man got closer and cupped her jaw. She tried to pull away from him.
Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.
Saskia smelled onions and wine. She clamped her teeth down on his lip.
He cursed and slapped her.
Ow. As she righted herself, he pulled out a handkerchief, and dabbed his bleeding lip.
Her cheek stung, but she glared, refusing to show any pain or fear.
The man scowled for a second, then he started to laugh. “You have fire and spirit. It’s what makes you such a good dancer.” He leaned in, his pale blue eyes glinting. “I look forward to breaking you, sweet Saskia.”
“Screw you.”
“You will. I can’t wait for you to dance for me.” His smile widened. “Naked.”
“Never,” she said shakily, her stomach curdling.
Mikhailov just kept smiling, then flicked a hand in dismissal.
The guard dragged her away.
“Fuck. Fuck.” Cam narrowly avoided throwing his phone. He pressed his hands to the back of his neck.
On the big screen on the wall, Hex hunched over a fancy laptop, her hands a blur.
“Where did the call originate?” Wolf barked from beside the hacker.
Hex’s nose scrunched. “I’m working on it, big guy. Chill.”
“Any word from Hades?” Vander asked.
Wolf shook his head, leaning back in the chair beside Hex. “Not yet. But don’t worry, Hades will find that asshole Palmer.”
“Hades can find anyone,” Hex said.
Cam met Vander’s gaze. His boss was sitting in a chair, tapping his fingers on the armrest.
“I heard a man speak Russian,” Cam said. “Whoever it was, he cut the call off.”
“She’s alive, Cam,” Vander said. “And she’s fighting. Hold on to that.”
Brynn walked in with two mugs of coffee. She’d changed into jeans and a green sweater.
“Here.” She handed one mug to Cam.
“I’m fine.”
“Drink it, Camden. It’s late, and when we find her, she’ll need you.”
He took the coffee with a chin lift. He hoped to hell that Brynn was right. That they found her.
Brynn ran a hand along Vander’s shoulder.
He looked at the mug. “For me?”
“Yes.” She dropped a quick kiss to his mouth and handed him the coffee.
Cam watched the pair. So easy, connected.
Vander met his gaze, and didn’t look away.
Cam knew his boss was trying to convey a message. He looked back at the screens and took another sip of his own coffee.
On-screen, Hex let loose with a stream of impressive curses. She hunched her shoulders even more and kept working.
Shit, Cam wanted to get out there and search for Saskia.
It damn near killed him not to have any clue where she was.
“Any news?” a deep voice asked from the doorway.
Cam turned. His brother stood there.
“Not yet,” Cam said.
Hunt was dressed casually in jeans and a sweater. Beside him, blonde, beautiful Savannah’s face was ravaged with worry.
“I can’t believe this,” Savannah said shakily.