Page 37 of Her Darkest Possession (Baryshev Bratva #2)

"They've blown it. The ventilation shaft entrance is gone."

I look up at the mansion. The flames are climbing higher now, engulfing the east wing completely. Black smoke billows against the night sky. Time is running out.

The panic room might be fireproof, but if the Volkovs have destroyed the ventilation shaft, then it's only a matter of time that the room runs out of air.

It's now or never.

"Roma," I command through the earpiece. "Pin down as many Volkovs at your position as possible. Kill every last one you can reach."

"With pleasure."

I turn to look behind me. More of my men have arrived, at least thirty strong now. And more vehicles are pulling up every minute. Every one of them is armed to the teeth.

"Boeviki!" I raise my rifle. "With me. We're going straight through the front."

My men don't hesitate when I call for them to follow. In an instant, they surge forward in a deafening roar that drowns out even the steady chatter of gunfire coming from the burning mansion.

We charge across the open ground toward the front entrance as snow swirls around us, firing at anything that moves ahead of us.

Rifles light up the darkness in rapid bursts. The fire consumes more of the building I once called home.

But my eyes are fixed on the entrance.

A massive window on the second-floor collapses with a thunderous crash, sending glass and flaming debris raining down. Through the gaping hole, the inferno inside paints everything in hellish orange light.

Against this fiery backdrop, I spot several silhouettes moving as Volkov men start repositioning. I raise my rifle and squeeze the trigger in a controlled burst.

Around me, my men follow suit.

One by one, the silhouettes drop. Each falling body brings a surge of savage satisfaction. These men came to my home, threatened my wife, and helped murder my brother.

They deserve nothing less than death.

But the Volkovs aren't going quietly. They start returning fire and cutting through our ranks.

To my right, a man falls with a scream, blood spraying from his throat.

On my left, another man's head snaps back, body crumpling in the thin layer of snow that's beginning to stick, his blood steaming in the cold.

By the time we reach the main entrance, only eight men remain with me.

Eight out of thirty.

The price of this direct assault is steep, but we're in.

"Move in!" I shout as I push inside. "Kill every Volkov you see!"

Inside, the heat is suffocating. Smoke sears my lungs with each breath. We push through the foyer, firing at two Volkov men aim at us from atop the grand staircase. A burst of gunfire dispatches them easily enough.

As we round the corner toward the west wing, the heat becomes nearly unbearable.

That's when I see her.

Lola Volkov stands in the middle of the hall with a gas can in her hand, spinning as she pours gas on the flames.

Fire arcs through the air. Her laughter—high, breathless, and completely unhinge—echoes off the burning walls.

Her clothes are singed black at the edges.

Blonde hair whips around her face with every twirl.

When she spots me, her spinning stops abruptly. A deranged smile spreads across her soot-streaked face. The inferno glimmers in her green eyes as it licks up the walls. It frames her inside the long hallway and makes her look like a demon from hell reveling in the destruction she's causing.

She throws the gas can behind her carelessly into the flames behind her, sending a fireball flashing upwards. In the light, I spot Vassily's motionless body by her feet.

Her mouth opens to gloat, but I pull the trigger without giving her a chance to say a fucking thing. Whatever twisted poison she's about to spew dies in her throat and she crumples to the ground.

Her eyes widen in shock as I step past her without giving her another glance. She's still breathing. Ragged, wet sounds strain from her throat and her fingertips graze the cuff of my pants.

Smoke burns my throat as I move in deeper, but I don't care. The panic room is up ahead, and every second counts. The flames are climbing higher, devouring everything in their path. Hot embers start falling from the ceiling. Black smoke billows around me.

Lola claws at her throat, making a desperate sound behind me. She's trying to say something, but I keep walking. Whatever final words she wants to spit at me will have to go unheard.

My focus narrows to a single point: get to Indigo. Get to my wife and her sister and Svetlana. Nothing else matters.

I step around another burning section of wall, leaving Lola bleeding out on the floor behind me.

Fire extinguishers spray white foam that hisses futilely against the ravaging flames. The makeshift path won't last long in these flames. Maybe ninety seconds before the ceiling collapses on us.

I flip open the light switch cover hiding the keypad.

Only to find that the cover has melted from the heat.

No! No! NO!

I didn't come this fucking far just to fucking fail now!

My hands slam against the steel surface.

"Indigo!" My voice cracks from smoke inhalation. The metal burns at my palms but I don't stop banging. "Indigo, open the door."

One of my men grabs my shoulder, his eyes wide with panic behind the makeshift cloth covering his face.

"Pakhan, we need to go now! The whole place is coming down!"

I shake him off. "Not without my wife."

The smoke is so thick and hot now that my lungs burn with each breath. My thoughts are getting sluggish, harder to form through the haze of smoke and adrenaline.

Wait.

I reach into my pocket with trembling fingers and pull out my phone. Through watering eyes, I dial the landline inside the panic room.

Indigo picks up on the first ring. "Anatoly?"

"I'm outside the door," I rasp, coughing violently. "Need you to put in the code from the inside. It's 9-7-3-4-5-2."

There's a momentary pause, then the door swings open.

And there she is. Her face is streaked with tears, but her eyes are fierce and alive. My racing heart skips several beats at the sight of her alive and unharmed. Behind her is Amara and Svetlana. They're all okay. They're all alive.

She throws herself into my arms, and clings onto me tightly, and I do the same to her.

"Pakhan!" one of my men calls out again, snapping me out of my reverie.

"Get them out! Now!" I turn to my men and point at all three of them.

My men rush forward immediately. One lifts Amara when she hesitates, and another scoops Svetlana onto his shoulders.

"This way!" I shout over the roar of the flames, leading them toward the main entrance. The route is narrowing by the second as more of the mansion collapses around us.

I press my earpiece. "Roma! I've got them. Pull back now!"

"Acknowledged. Disengaging."

As we navigate through the inferno, I spot Vassily's body lying where Lola left him.

I start veering toward him, determined to reach him and carry his body out. But just then, a tremendous crack splits the air above us. A massive burning beam crashes down between me and Vassily, sending up a shower of embers and blocking my path to my brother's body.

A blood-curdling scream rises up from behind the fallen beam. Through the flames, I can just make out Lola's writhing form pinned beneath the massive timber.

Her clothes and hair are on fire.

"Help me, Tolya!" She shrieks, her eyes finding mine through the wall of fire. "PLEASE! DON’T LET ME DIE LIKE THIS!"

I stare coldly at the woman who tried to take everything from me, then look once more at my brother's body that I can no longer reach. I make no motion to do as she says.

And it’s Indigo who breaks the silence.

"It turns out he does want me, Lola," Her fingers tighten around mine. "More than you ever thought he wanted you."

Then, she turns away from Lola’s screams. We rush outside with the others, not daring to stop running until the cold wintry air fills our lungs and the wail of fire trucks start growing louder in the distance.