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When I’d made the last mark on Ivan, I stood silent, eyes closed, and prayed. A low murmured chant filled the room on repeat. The candles flickered as I raised my lids from the trancelike state I’d been in.
Just to fuck with them, I shook the chains they were hanging from. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Phoenix step out of the shadows. The flames on the candles blazed nearly a foot tall before they dropped to their original height. He gave a half smile and faded back.
The fear had finally begun to settle in with the three stooges we had suspended from the ceiling. I could see it in their eyes. I could smell it seeping from their pores. I could hear it in their uneven breaths.
I almost laughed when Ghost appeared from behind me and walked around them slowly with a creepy as fuck tip to his mouth. Not quite a smile, not quite a grimace. He pulled out a wicked-looking blade and stopped behind Anatoly. He gave the dildo a little bounce that caused Anatoly to stiffen slightly. Before anyone knew what was happening, the blade slid through Anatoly’s side and retreated.
Anatoly screamed and Kalashnik fought to see exactly what was happening. Ghost slid the knife in the other side to match. Then he disappeared again.
Ivan actually pissed himself. Kalashnik was shouting. Anatoly sagged as his shoulders seemed to pop out of socket.
“Good thing there’s a drain,” said Raptor with a dark chuckle.
Chains came forward, and I could read the “oh fuck” in Ivan’s eyes. He talked a really big game until shit got real. Somehow, I got the feeling he was getting the hint that the cavalry wasn’t going to ride in and save them.
The big tatted-up motherfucker cracked his neck, walked up to Kalashnik, and stared at him. Besides the fact that he liked Kira and hated human trafficking, we all owed it to Shank to take a piece of them. First, he punched Kalashnik right in the ribs. The sound of them cracking echoed off the walls.
Walking around behind him, he wrapped his inked fingers around his throat and squeezed. Kalashnik’s eyes bugged, and he was gasping for breath. Chains froze, and his eyes met mine over the Russian’s shoulder. What I saw there wasn’t good, but it wasn’t the time to discuss it. He nodded, telling me he’d gotten what we needed.
One by one, each of my brothers took a turn on the three Russians.
By the time everyone was done, they were a bloody, battered mess. Except for their faces. We wanted those to be recognizable. Especially since Anatoly’s needed to make a special trip.
Blade, the sick fucker, had peeled the skin off their cocks and shoved it in their mouths. They’d passed out at various times, and we’d used whatever means necessary to revive them.
At the end of it, I took my blade and had it poised to slice Ivan’s throat exactly as he’d done to Kira.
“No!”
I froze.
Kira.
