Page 85

I asked the more important question. “Who’s Malek meeting today?”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said, panic evident in his voice. “They marked me a traitor.”
His hand made a sudden move toward me, but the knife drew a few drops of blood in response.
“Easy,” he murmured, pulling at his hospital gown to reveal the mark.
I’d seen the same mark once before. It was given to those labeled as traitors. A clear message: they were not to be trusted. A snake without a head, burned into the flesh with a hot poker. The mark was still fresh, angrily red, and possibly infected.
“How are you still here?” I asked, wondering why they hadn’t taken care of him yet.
“My punctured lung delayed the transport. They’re shipping me back to Russia tomorrow.”
Oh.
“What’s your name?”
“Lev.”
“What will happen to you?” I asked, needing him to confirm what I already suspected.
“You don’t want to know,” he whispered.
Prostitution. Human trafficking. Illegal fights. There were many ways those who were written off found themselves used. They became currency, exchanged to settle debts and enrich the already rich.
I stepped back, sheathing the knife, when an impulse hit me. “Take the exit by the barrels,” I handed him one of the guard’s guns. “If anyone sees you, shoot.”
“I won’t blame you if you disappear,” I admitted. I probably would, too.
“But if you want to fight, I’ll hear you out.” I held his gaze. “Wait for me at the docks in Brooklyn. If anyone sees you, ask for Lorenzo and mention me.”
“Why help me?” Lev appeared shocked. He was right to question me.
“Call it Christmas spirit,” I half-joked.
An enemy of Malek could be a friend of mine, but I wouldn’t claim it was out of kindness. I’d learned long ago that factors like age or innocent looks could be persuasive, but they’d only cost you. In Lev’s case, though, I was his best shot. I could only hope it was enough to prevent him from doing anything stupid. Still, I warned him, “Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness. I could take it back just as quickly as I gave it.”
He limped out as I helped him into the guard’s clothes before seeing him off.
“If you cross me, I won’t hesitate to end you. Now go!”
Lev took off.
Eight to go.
The others were all centered around the meeting place. I circled the space, searching for a lookout when I stumbled upon an office nearby. I helped myself to some information. A file with a picture awaited in a safe.
The combination? Malek’s birthday.
Zero points for creativity. Or maybe a hundred for acting.
Did he plant the documents? Whether intentional or not, they found their way to me.
Ravager.The man I’d seen entering the building.
I held the picture up to the light, studying the man behind the name. His face was destroyed. Beaten and swollen, it was clear his nose had been broken one too many times, now hanging at an unnatural angle. On top of that, a bloodied eyebrow and a black eye marred his features. The damage the name promised had already been done to his face.
Malek’s new ally?