Page 7

YULIAN

The second I see him, all my doubts disappear.

It’s him. He’s back.

And he’s got a knife on Mia.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her,” I snarl. “She’s mine. ”

My eyes find hers. She looks so scared. Trying to put up a brave front, like always, but there’s no mistaking the fresh trail of tears on her cheeks.

It makes me want to skin Desya alive.

But Desya only smirks, stepping away with his hands high, knife still gleaming red. It’s only a single drop of blood, but it makes me fucking boil.

He cut her. He hurt her.

He touched what’s mine.

“What, not even a hug?” Desya flashes a carefree grin. “How heartless you’ve become, Yuli. It’s been twenty years, you know.”

“It should have been longer.”

“You don’t really believe that.” His grin turns vicious. “If you did, you’d have put a bullet in my head instead of taking me to swim.”

“My mistake.” I aim my gun at his head. “Won’t happen again.”

“Oh, c’mon. You’re really going to blow my brains out in front of her? ”

“Mia’s not that weak.”

“I wasn’t talking about your printsessa. ” His gaze flicks behind me. “I was talking about mine. Hi there, Niks.”

“You piece of shit,” Nikita spits. “You think I’d give a damn? Seriously?”

“I mean, you should. We used to play all the time, remember? I’d carry you on my shoulders and let you pick oranges over the neighbors’ fence. Those were good days.”

“They were.” She cocks her gun. “Then you murdered my sister.”

“Please. You didn’t even like her. But then again, who did?” He pretends to have an epiphany, then turns to me. “Oh, that’s right. You.”

Nikita looks like she wants to throw her gun away and claw his face off with her bare hands. I can’t say I blame her.

But it would be a mistake. Desya’s dangerous. And right now, he’s still way too close to Mia.

Shit. I shouldn’t have sent Maksim out for reinforcements.

“Don’t let him get under your skin, Nik,” I say. “That’s what he does. He wants you distracted.”

“Do I, now?” His gaze burns a trail down her body. “‘Cause, right now, I kind of want her on her knees.”

It all happens too fast.

Nikita lunges for Desya. I try to block her, but she’s quick when she wants to be, and right now, she’s got every reason in the world. Her sister’s killer is there, taunting her, begging her to take a swing at him.

So she does.

And Desya grins.

He takes her punch like a champ, teeth red and bloody with the blow. But before I can do anything—before I can try to figure out how to shoot him without risking her life or Mia’s—he twists her arm around and puts his knife to her throat.

Nikita’s gun clatters to the ground. Desya puts his foot on it, keeping it handy for himself. “Gotcha.”

“Nikita!” Mia screams. Her arms thrash against the restraints, her chair wobbling with the force of it. “Let her go, you psycho!”

“I meant it, you know.” Desya’s voice drops low, his face uncomfortably close to Nikita’s. “If I’d known you’d grow up to look this good, I’d have stashed you away somewhere before I killed your whore of a sister. We could’ve had some fun eventually.”

The look on Nikita’s face is murderous. I’ve never seen her so furious, so out of control. “I will dig your other eye out of your skull.”

“But then I couldn’t look at your pretty face anymore.”

“Let her go, Desya,” I say icily. “Or I swear, I’ll fill you with holes.”

“Nah.” He tucks Nikita closer to him. If she’d been at full strength, she would have broken his arm like a twig. “I don’t think you will.”

“That’s a bold assumption.”

“Is it?” He jerks his head towards Mia. “Because I think your little princess is about to taste lead.”

I flick my gaze to Mia—and I see it.

A red dot. Right on her forehead.

There’s no time to think. No time to do anything but act.

I take my gun off Desya and yank her down for cover.

The shot rings out moments later. It embeds itself in the peeling wallpaper, slicing through the air where Mia was.

I get her ropes, cut her free. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she gasps. “But Desya is getting away!”

I snap my head towards the end of the room. “Shit,”

Nikita’s lying on the ground, unconscious or maybe dead. I have no time to check her pulse. Desya’s dashing into the hallway, and God knows I’ll never catch him again if I lose him now.

Mia seems to read my thoughts. “I’ll stay with her,” she whispers urgently. “Go! Now!”

I hesitate. Just for a split second, but I do. “Be careful,” I tell her.

“I will.”

Then I give chase.

Desya is almost at the bottom of the stairs.

I fire two warning shots, but he doesn’t stop.

Instead, he fires a shot right back and ducks for cover in the foyer, crouching behind a marble column.

“Sorry, Yuli boy. Can’t afford to let you put me back in the dirt yet.

I have to destroy your life first, you understand. ”

“I understand I won’t miss next time.”

“You say that, but that’s twice you’ve let me go already. When will you ever learn to aim for the head?”

Desya. My oldest friend. My deepest betrayal. I don’t have the luxury of lingering on the tornado of conflicting emotions inside me right now, but one stands out above all of them: regret.

I should have made certain he was dead.

I should have put a bullet in his brain twenty years ago.

I shouldn’t have given him that 1% chance.

More bullets come hurtling my way. I jump over the railing and duck behind the staircase, paying his fire back with more fire. The foyer of my late family’s home fills with holes and the stench of gunpowder.

Just like back then.

That thought turns my focus razor sharp. The next time I shoot, I don’t miss.

Desya howls. He clutches his shoulder, roaring with pain. “You bastard,” he spits. “You really are heartless.”

“Takes one to know one.”

I step out of my hiding place and take aim. Desya’s gun is out of bullets—I counted them. Me? I’ve only got one left.

But one’s more than enough.

“Wait,” Desya gasps. “You’re serious? You’re just going to kill me?”

“I’d have thought the gun made it obvious.”

“No, no, no. That’s so boring! You’re not even going to hold me captive? Torture me? Ask me about Prizrak?”

I freeze. “What the hell do you know about Prizrak?”

“What do I know?” He flashes me a bloody grin. “Didn’t you hear? I’m with them now.”

Kill him, my instincts scream. Kill him now.

Kill him, and be done with him.

But then, the vengeful part of me whispers, how will you ever get to the others?

Before I can make up my mind, a scream comes from the top of the stairs. “Yulian! Are you okay?!”

Mia’s voice.

Desya takes that window of opportunity. In the split second of my distraction, he rushes towards the exit.

I fire my last bullet?—

“ Blyat’ !”

—and miss.

Mia comes down with Nikita in tow. She’s swaying slightly, an ugly bump on her head, but otherwise okay.

“Bye, Yuli!” Desya shouts from the grounds. “I’ll be back for you. And for the little Lozhkin in her belly, of course.”

Then he’s gone.

I barely hear the rumble of Maksim’s engine. The rumble of many more—the reinforcements I sent him to get.

I barely even hear Mia’s voice asking me, “Are you hurt?”

All I hear is what Desya said. The little Lozhkin in her belly.

And judging by the look on Mia’s face, she heard him, too.