Page 94 of Unholy Tsar

It’s all in your stance. Stand up straight and face the target squarely with your feet spread shoulder–width apart…

“Just like this,” I mumble, digging my feet into the dusty floor. Viktor fires another shot. This one hits the ceiling, and debris falls over my head. But I don’t get distracted.

“This is for Maksim.” I take aim, steadier this time. Then, with a deep breath, I take my shot.

It hits Viktor square in the chest. He stumbles, but I don’t wait for him to fall. “Take this, you bastard!” Rage propels me as I empty the magazine into him, each shot a release of everything I’ve been holding back.

“I think he’s dead, dushen’ka,” Maksim coughs from the floor. “He was dead from your very first bullet. Hell of a shot.”

I throw the gun away and rush to his side. His clothes are soaked through with blood. And it’s still coming out.

Shit, shit.

I strip off my shirt, not caring that it leaves me in only a bra and leggings. The cold barely registers as I press my shirt desperately into his wound. I stare helplessly at his arm, then frantically look around for something else I can use to stem the flow of blood.

When I glance back at him, my heart lurches. His skin has gone so pale, his eyes are shut tight, and each breath he takes is heavy and labored.

“Maksim! Don’t you dare leave me like this. I-I love you.” When he doesn’t respond, I shake him. “I said I love you, okay? You made me fall in love with you and now you can’t ever leave me. Don’t you fucking dare leave me.”

He groans, and I’m immediately flooded with so much relief I get a little lightheaded.

“Is that true? Or are—are you–” he coughs. “Are you saying all this because you think I’m dying?”

My heart wrenches. “What? NO! You’re not going to die. I’m not going to let you leave me, okay? I’m not going to let you.” His face blurs as hot tears sting my eyes and stream down my face.

“I’m just joking, don’t cry, dushen’ka. Shhh. I’m not going anywhere, not as long as you keep me in your heart.” He coughs again, and I increase the pressure on his wound.

“Forever,” I promise feverishly. In the distance, I hear approaching footsteps. “I’ll kill whoever I need to kill to keep you safe.” Leaning over Maksim, I pick up Viktor’s fallen gun. It’s covered in blood, but I’m pretty sure he still had some bullets left.

“No,” Maksim whispers, lifting his hand on top of mine. “Friends. Family.”

“How do you know?”

“Ya tebya lyublyu. I love you, dushen’ka.”

His fingers lift to my cheek, and he caresses me weakly, marking me with blood. His blood.

I grab his hand before it can fall away, pressing it against my skin. “I’m never letting you go,” I sob. I finally have a home. A family of my own. No way I’m going to lose him.

He gives me a weak smile just as he loses consciousness. I gulp and glance up at the people that step in. I almost immediately recognize Rian Kilpatrick. Bree’s cousin.

“Help us,” I plead.

He’s way ahead of me. Rushing to Maksim’s side, he falls to his knees and feels his pulse.

“Call a doctor!” he bellows as more men rush into the hallway. Together, they lift Maksim up and start to carry him out of the ruined palace.

I trail behind them, heart in my throat.

Please be alright, Maksim, I quietly beg. Please.

34

CECILIA

The next two days are excruciating.

Through all the darkness and pain, though, I do manage to find some solace, and it all comes from the kindness Maksim’s family shows me. And they are his family.