Page 176 of Blood & Snow

For Xander.

For myself.

And all I can do is pray that Xander's smart enough not to come alone.

29

XANDER

The safehouse is our meeting place, and it reeks of cigarette smoke and body odor of half a dozen men who've been up with me preparing to fight Arkady.

Igor stands by the table, arms crossed over his tactical vest as he goes over intelligence we've been gathering.

We're running scans, cross checking everything we know against a database in Markov's systems despite being told he wouldn't help, and finally we're getting somewhere.

"We have a location," Igor says, sliding a photograph across the table.

"Bakery in the Basmanny district. Sokolov's been using it as a safe hiding spot since we destroyed his warehouse operations, but it's definitely owned by the syndicate."

I study the image of a three-story building.

For all intents and purposes it appears to be a normal bakery with a store front and ovens in the back, but the second and third stories look to be used for apartment buildings, which isn't uncommon in Central Moscow.

If he's wise there are no tenants in those apartments, but wise isn't something I would label Arkady Sokolov.

"How solid is the intelligence?"

"Our source saw her being moved inside last night and confirmed Arkady himself is there, along with at least six soldiers."

At least six.

Meaning more could be hiding in rooms our informant couldn't access.

The Sokolovs know I'm coming for her, have prepared their defenses accordingly.

They lie in wait for me, and I won't be baited into their death trap.

"The Pakhan ordered us to stand down, Xander," Ivan says without turning from the window.

"Said she's not worth the risk."

Leonid's words still burn in my memory, the way he openly disregarded Nadya as an object to be recycled or replaced.

But the old man doesn't understand that Nadya became more than an asset weeks ago.

She's the only person who looks at me and sees beyond the killer.

Without her, I'm just a monster counting down days until violence consumes what's left of my humanity.

"We're going anyway," I say, standing and collecting my weapons.

"Anyone who wants to stay behind can do so without consequence."

Nobody moves toward the door.

These men have fought beside me for years.

They trust my judgment even when it contradicts direct orders.