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My brothers and I creep forward. The soles of my sneakers squeak against the shiny marble floor tiles. I draw in a sharp breath. Boris loves to have all of his homes smelling like the scents used at his favorite hotels. He says it helps to keep his mind clear and focused.
I wonder what the stench of death raging through his house would do to his mind.
“Boris,” I yell.
Still nothing.
Impending dread simmers in the air around me, uncertainty on my heels like an invisible demon with the intent to destroy.
We walk deeper into the home. I take a sharp right into the kitchen.
“I don’t like this,” Taras mutters. “Where the fuck are they?”
“They’re in Boris’s office, all the way down the hall,” I mutter. “I could tell from the background on the FaceTime screen.”
My gaze darts left and right, but I see nothing other than spotless stainless steel and polished marble. A loud crash shatters the silence. A gunshot follows. My pulse slams against my throat when a piercing cry reverberates between my ears.
We keep moving, our guns in outstretched hands. Still, nobody appears. And there isn’t a single sound coming from any direction right now. No yelling, no crying. Nothing.
They have to be here. Did Dmitri move them from the office?
Tiny hairs on my arms spring to attention as a whoosh of cold air from a nearby vent slicks over them.
Is this a fucking tra–?
“Luka! We’re in he–”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch.”
And just as suddenly, the voice is swallowed by silence.
Tori’s voice.
“We have to get to her,” Nikolai says, pushing past us. He rounds the corner, headed down the hallway. A single shot explodes and Nikolai yelps.
He slams backward into a wall and falls to the floor just as we reach him. He clutches his left shoulder, a deep red stain seeping into his white shirt, soaking the arm. “Fuck.”
Taras runs over to him and I whirl around, pointing in every direction with the barrel of my .22. “Dmitri, get the fuck out here now.”
“You’re not really in a position to be making demands, Luka.” His voice…sounding like it’s calling me from above somewhere…makes my stomach roil.
Ironic that he’s above me when he really needs to be six feet under me right now.
“And sorry about that, Nik. I just wanted to send a message to your family to not fuck with me. I hope you received it loud and clear. Shoot at me or any of my men, and we plan a fun new game of Russian roulette with the girls. I don’t think you want to take a chance that the bullet will be in the chamber when the trigger is pulled. Right?”
“Show your fucking face, Dmitri.” I clench the handle of the gun in my fist. I’m not used to walking into situations where my target can see me. Hell, I’m not used to walking into ones where I am the target.
“I will once you and your brothers put your guns on the floor in front of you.”
He’s really going to trust us? He’s not going to frisk us himself?
How the fuck could Dad ever have thought to get involved with him or his family?
I place my gun on the floor and step away from it before nodding my head toward my brothers. Nikolai and Taras toss theirs alongside it.
Sloppy fucker. That’s exactly why he’s gonna die today.
I want to storm the place. I want to torch each and every room until I find my sister and Natasha. But I know that idiots like Dmitri won’t hesitate to take another shot at who is important. And I can’t have that blood on my hands. I have too much already. So I don’t morph into Maxim Molotov.
