Page 26 of Nemesis

The costume mistress is gonna flay my ass. The nonsensical thought would force a chuckle to my chest if not for the coating of red slipping on my fingers.

“I’ve lived through much worse,” he says, forcing himself upright with a groan. “I can handle it.”

I try to help him scoot back against the wall. Blood drips off his form and puddles below, smearing across the pavement as he drags himself backward. I’m so distracted by the carnage that I’m caught completely off guard when my back suddenly smacks against the floor.

Air knocks from my lungs.

“The real question,” he grinds out, voice cold and violent. I push onto my elbows, only to be shoved back down. “is what you’ve lived through. Or should I say, lied through.”

I go to kick him off, only to have my legs completely disarmed beneath his massive thighs. It’s like a switch flipped in his temperament, snipping off those last few strings of humanity. My heart nearly explodes in panic.

“I don’t have a clue what he was talking about,” I gasp. “The Siderov thing, the stalking—I don’t have any parents! I was dropped off at the home before I could so much as say a word. You have to believe…”

He raises a bloody brow, and I trail off. Because he doesn’t.

He doesn’t believe me.

His weight crushes my lower body, and something in me knows the second I move my palms, he’ll disarm them too. I wish, not for the first time, that I had actually managed to kill him when I woke hours ago. That was my chance at survival. My one gift from fate, bestowed on a girl who’s been fighting for every minute of her miserable life.

Fate is a fickle bitch.

I raise my chin, trying to hide the fear blooming through my body. Those bright blue eyes haven’t dimmed, still focused on mine like they’re trying to dissect something beneath. How did I ever think they were pretty? Nothing alive takes on that shade of blue.

“If you think I’m lying, why bother protecting me?” I ask carefully, glancing down his form for a way to throw him off. Before I even make my move, he lunges like a cobra, snatching my wrists in a brutal hold and slamming them to the ground above my head. The bones in my hand rattle from the impact.

“Did I?” His head tilts, just a fraction of an inch, but the expression is enough to delay my next breath.

Suddenly, anger overwhelms the chattering fear lancing through my gut. It’s not enough that he’s crushing me into the nasty floor, but now he’s trying to gaslight me, too? One of my nails finds a shallow cut on his palm and presses in. Fresh blood oozes down his wrist, coating my fingers.

The fucker doesn’t even flinch.

When I look back up, his teeth are bared in a brutal smile. “Such a vindictive little thing, aren’t you?”

“Don’t play games with me.”

He leans down until our noses nearly brush. My breathing doubles, blowing against the immovable presence of his cheekbone. I haven’t been this frightened in a long time, but my body recognizes the feeling like an old friend, providing a warm welcome as it rushes through my system.

“Seems like you’re the one playing games.” Hot breath coats my cheek. “You see, normally, when I’m taken, it’s always the same types of questions. When do the weapons shipments go out, Vasiliy, or who signs off on the bodies that don’t make it back to Moscow, Vasiliy?”

My skin burns as I try to twist free from his hold.

No success.

“Sometimes they even throw in a how much does a Morozov soldier bleed before he breaks, Vasiliy?” He laughs, causing a drop of blood to fly free from his lips. It trickles down my cheek. “But this time, all they wanted to know was you.”

“I. Have. Nothing,” I say between gritted teeth, trying to shove him off again.

“So you say,” he whispers pensively. “A poor little orphan, all alone in the world.”

I roll my eyes at his mocking tone, content to stare at the line of red trailing down his shoulder as he continues.

“But I’m not alone in the world. I have someone depending on me, and instead of supporting them, I’m stuck in a cage with a girl who’s dead set on convincing me this is all one big fucking coincidence.”

“You’re the one who’s all tied up with this criminal organization. Don’t you think it might be your fault they think I’m this Annika girl?”

His brows rise, as if he knows I don’t believe my own words. “I don’t know if you were paying attention back there, but he couldn’t care less about what I had to offer. Which is a lot, by the way. I’m practically a treasure trove in this world.” He laughs, a cold, shallow sound. “Apparently, they’ve been trailing you for years, spitfire.”

Our captor’s questions replay in my mind, warping with my memory alongside those squelching slices. Trailing me for years. Me. A lump forms in my throat.