Page 101 of Wicked Refusal

“I can see that.”

He grits his teeth, brings down a cloaked shooter somewhere on the beams, high up. “They’re blending with the environment. Literally coming out of the woodwork.”

“They were already here,” I realize. “Blyat’.We walked straight into a fucking ambush.”

“We need to chase them out!” Kazimir yells over the roar of gunfire. “Send them into Nikita’s arms.”

He doesn’t need to elaborate. Nikita is waiting on the Goldenrod’s rooftop with StarTech’s latest precision rifle: If she couldn’t pick them off on the way in, she’d pick them off on the way out. That was her mission from the start.

But I’m starting to think we’ll all be long dead before then.

“Boss,” Kazimir pants, “I think we’re gonna have to cut off a limb to save the body.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“He wants a kill. One of usvory.Soon as he gets that, he’ll be gone.”

I turn to stare at Kazimir. “Out of the fucking question.”

“I’ve already escaped death once.” He says it like he’s listing off items from his latest financial report. Like it’s not his goddamn life on the line. “To be fair, my number already got called back at the office. If it weren’t for you and that poor bastard Rurik, I’d already be six feet under.”

“That’s no excuse to eat a fucking bullet!”

He flashes me a lopsided grin. “Then let’s say I’m putting my trust in ourpakhansha.From what I hear, she can stitch a dead man back to life.”

“Kazimir. Don’t be stupid.”

“Sorry. No can do.”

He reloads. I can tell he’s about to spring to his feet, dash into the eye of the storm. This stupid, noble, self-sacrificing idiot.

I don’t let him take one step.

I aim my gun and shoot him in the foot.

“Fuck!” He rolls to the ground, back under cover. “Oh, fuck, fuck?—”

“Stay put,” I growl. “And if you’re lucky, she’ll stitchthatup.”

He stares at me with a mix of amazement and hatred. “No offense, boss, but right now, I kinda want to take a shot at you myself.”

“Then I’ll take this off your hands.”

I grab his gun in my free hand, cock them both, and start firing upwards.

The beams.Kazimir was right on that. The second I start aiming up and sideways, bodies start dropping.

“They’re on the ceiling!” I shout. “Aim for the beams!”

It’s not the only place—can’t be—but it’ll have to do for now. The bullets rushing at us from the sides must come from the high windows, behind the black-velvet curtains. While everyone else is following my directives, I start aiming for those.

Glass shatters. Screams echo. More bodies, less gunfire.

We just might get out of this alive.

I’m not even halfway through that thought when I see him.

Desya.