The fear in her eyes made him immediately regret the question. Of course, she didn't want to talk about how she'd gotten here. No one ended up here voluntarily. Except for the guests and someone like him, who had accepted a devil's bargain, everyone else had either been born on this godforsaken island or trafficked.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "You don't have to answer that. I know how most people end up here."
Mattie studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "You were also stolen away?" she asked so quietly that he could barely make out the words.
"I came voluntarily, but since the alternative was rotting away in a Siberian prison, I thought that a tropical island would be an improvement."
The truth was that he hadn't known he was heading to an island in the Indian Ocean. All he'd been told was that Dr. Konstantin Petrov had pulled some strings to get him out because he needed his help on a classified project.
Dimitri had jumped at the offer without giving a second thought to what he was getting himself into. Anything was better than a gulag in Siberia, and he was saying this even after realizing where he'd landed and what was required of him.
"Why were you in prison?" she asked.
Naturally, she assumed that he'd been punished for something illegal that he had done. "I was involved in research that was supposed to be highly confidential, and I operated under the guidelines I'd been given. But when you are just a cog in the machine, and those in power decide that something doesn't look good for them, or that something might make them look even better, they sacrifice you without giving it a second thought." He affected a smile. "Often, those in power get there because they are sociopaths who do not care about the dead bodies they use as stepping-stones to reach their goals."
Catching the commanders who were sitting against the back wall glance his way, Dimitri realized that he'd spoken too loudly, but since he had been speaking in generalities and not targeting them or their leaders, he shouldn't worry too much about them overhearing him.
Mattie nodded. "I know what you mean." She glanced at the immortals, and her expression turned fearful. "We just do what we can to survive, right?"
"Yes, Mattie. That's what we have to do."
"I'll get the drink," she said, and slipped away before he could say anything else.
Petrov watched her go, his gaze lingering on places it shouldn't. "You're wasting your time, you know. She's not going to sleep with you just because you're nice to her."
"That's not what I'm after."
"Oh no?" Petrov's smile was knowing. "Then you must be after intellectual stimulation with little Mattie from Australia."
"Of course." Dimitri affected a big, fake smile. "Can't get enough of that out here, now, can we?"
Petrov laughed. "No, we can't." He leaned over and clapped Dimitri on his back. "Good luck, my young friend. I hope you find what you are looking for with the pretty waitress."
Mattie returned with Petrov's vodka and Dimitri's whiskey, even though he hadn't ordered it.
"Thank you," he said. "For the drink I didn't order."
The ghost of a smile flickered across her lips. "You looked like you could use one."
Before he could respond, she was gone again, walking up to another table. Dimitri watched her go, noting the way she flinched when one of the immortals grabbed her wrist and the way she pulled free with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"I'm going to the brothel," Petrov announced after downing his drink. "Are you coming?" He pushed back from the table.
Dimitri shook his head. "No, thank you. I prefer the company of my right hand to taking advantage of drugged women."
"Suit yourself." Petrov ignored the jibe. "They have no choice but to offer their services, and if you don't partake, others will. It makes as much sense as abstaining from eating beef because you feel sorry for the poor cows. It doesn't matter because someone else is going to eat them, and your sacrifice will be worthless."
It was such a crude comparison that Dimitri didn't want to comment, but he couldn't help it. "It's worthwhile to me. At least I can go to sleep at night with a clear conscience."
Petrov laughed, a deep belly laugh that made his middle shake and wobble. "You are so funny, Dimitri. Can you really sleep with nothing on your damn conscience? Talk about disconnect from reality."
He was right.
Some of the things Dimitri had worked on before getting here still haunted his dreams. But everyone had their line in the sand, and the brothel was his.
He'd gone once, expecting something sleazy but consensual, women who had chosen to sell their bodies making the best of a bad situation.
What he'd found had been disturbing.
