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The sound of bones crunching under my brother’s boot rings out in the room.
Nikolai’s nostrils flare, but he doesn’t cry out in pain.
It’s obvious he’s the kind of guy who was born and raised in this kind of shit. Getting hurt, living on the knife’s edge. But he’s probably way more used to being the hunter, not the hunted.
Malice leans down and grabs Nikolai by the hair, his fingers curling among the short strands close to the scalp. He yanks the guy’s head up and looks him right in the eye.
“Do you remember Diana Voronin?” he spits.
Nikolai’s chest heaves with a rattling breath, but he doesn’t say anything. He narrows his eyes at Malice, looking like he’s about to spit at him.
Before he can so much as gather the saliva in his mouth, Malice stomps down on his hand again, harder this time, grinding his boot down even more.
Pain flashes across Nikolai’s face, and he bares his bloodstained teeth, breathing hard.
“I asked you a question, asshole,” Malice snaps.
“Mal,” I call, tossing him a knife. “A guy like this has probably killed plenty of defenseless women in his day. Maybe he just needs you to jog his memory.”
Malice takes the knife and bends down, anger and the thirst for violence radiating off him. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” His voice is soft. Dangerous. “Maybe he just needs a reminder.”
He cuts down the front of Nikolai’s shirt, exposing his skin. The man is pale as fuck, scarred and tattooed, although he doesn’t have anywhere close to the number that Malice has.
“I’d carve her fucking name into your skin,” Malice growls. “But you’re not worthy to carry it.”
Instead, he puts the knife against Nikolai’s chest and just starts carving lines down it, biting deep enough that blood wells to the surface immediately.
Nikolai roars, and it’s hard to tell if it’s him finally breaking from the pain or if he’s just pissed off. Either way, it’s not like it matters. There’s only one way this is all going to end.
I step closer, entering his field of view, and his feral eyes flip over to me.
“Diana Voronin,” I repeat. “She was a nurse. About this tall.” I hold my hand up, at about average height. “Dark brown hair, bright green eyes. She had a smile that she gave to just about anyone. Ringing any bells?”
“Fuck you and the bitch, whoever she is,” Nikolai bites out, his accented voice thick with pain.
Malice drives the knife in deeper, stabbing him right near his armpit on the right side.
I make a tsking noise with my tongue, shaking my head. “Sorry. That’s the wrong answer. Let’s see if this works instead. She was coming home from work one night. She was a nurse, and she dedicated her life to helping people. Someone shot her in the head.” I take another step closer, standing right behind Malice now. “It wasn’t a stray bullet or an accident either. It was right here.” I point between my own eyes, not looking away from Nikolai for a second. “And at close range too, from what we learned from the report.”
“We know you did it,” Vic chimes in. He sounds as dispassionate as always, that tight control he keeps over himself intact even now while we stare down the man who killed our mom. “We want to know why.”
Nikolai glances between the three of us, and he looks fucked up. His eyes are bloodshot, and there’s blood bubbling from his lips when he finally speaks again. The bullets Malice put through his back probably punctured one of his lungs.
“I remember,” he rasps after a moment. “I do remember her. It was just business.”
“Business?” Malice demands, rage making him shake a little. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? She was ourmother.”
“She was a loose end. She saw me doing… an assassination job, and I could not let her live after that. I killed her, yes. And I never thought about her again after. Do you shed tears for every piece of trash you throw away?”
It’s the exact wrong thing to say, and we all react to it. Malice grinds the knife in even deeper, and I clench my hands into fists, trying to breathe through the rage.
Our mother was a fucking angel. She was the best person I ever knew, and to this day, no one has ever come close to being as good as she was. She was the one who would do everything she could to help someone in need. She was the kind of mom who knew the best way to make us smile and wanted us all to be happy. She was the last person who deserved to die the way Nikolai killed her. We all loved her with everything we had, and hearing this fucker talk about her like this is enough to set us off.
Even Vic seems to be at the end of his rope. He walks forward, and he and Malice are right there in front of Nikolai, twin omens of doom. He rears back and then kicks Nikolai in the side, hard enough to shatter a couple ribs, probably.
Judging from the grunt of pain, that’s exactly what he was aiming for.
Malice pulls the knife out and drives it in again, twisting it a little.
