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Outside, the cold night air sweeps around us, burrowing into my clothing and leaving ghost-like touches on any exposed skin. Dante gives his orders to his men, three groups of three to split off down the street and one group of two to take the roof. Weapons are handed out and while I prefer a pistol, the weight of the assault rifle pressed into my hands brings a certain cozy comfort even as the wind whips up around us. It drives a chill down my spine and I shudder, pulling my leather jacket tighter around me as the cars go dark and we separate into the shadows.
I’m alive now, but each shiver brings with it a sliver of doubt.
I walk left along the shop front with Dante, and Archer, while Cain and Declan slip from their own cars and each take a group of men in a different direction around the parking lot. They soon melt into the darkness as well and I follow Dante’s lead of slipping inside the abandoned video store, crouching down behind one of the crumpling, forgotten displays.
Silence falls, broken only by a slight shift in someone’s breathing or a subtle rustle of clothing. We’re here as backup, nothing more.
Dante rests on his knees, an assault rifle resting on his thigh, and he catches my eye in the dark.
Are you okay?his head tilt asks.
I nod.
Normally being asked such a thing so often would drive my fist into someone’s face but… I understand it more now. I’ve felt that fear of loss, the burn of worry when it comes to Cara, therefore it’s easier now to appreciate that peopleactuallycarry concern for me in their hearts.
Fuck, I’m growing soft in my old age.
Dante makes a light face at me with a twist of his lips, then holds up two fingers to his eye. He points out of the store, closing one eye and flicking his fingers upwards. I follow the direction of his fingers. Outside, across the parking lot sits a large, abandoned building with crumbling walls, smashed-up windows, and enough graffiti that it's surely classified as a canvas more than structure at this point.
Then I see it. On the roof, just subtly, the glint of something that winks at us twice and then vanishes. Sienna, her men, and likely her sniper rifle. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather have watching my back in a situation like this.
I catch Dante’s eye, my lips quirking, and then the silence is shattered. The rumble of car engines fills the air and a few moments later a long, sleek limo pulls into the parking lot. It’s flanked by two black sedans, out of which pour enough Russian henchmen that I lose count. They spread out across the parking lot, rifles hugging close to their chest, and swarm around the limo. Less than 30 seconds later, several silver cars pull into the lot on the opposite side and while fewer men get out of these cars, they are just as heavily armed.
Then Feliks Lenkov climbs out of one of the silver cars and my heart stutters abruptly.
Peace with the Russians. Fuck.
Despite Cara’s words of peace, of not tainting every Russian with the brush of their predecessor, it’s a hard pill to swallow.
Then the Pakhan himself climbs out of the limo. He’s a large man, old and muscular and he strides forward with the air of someone who bleeds cruelty as easily as hebreathes. Disgust crawls like mites over my skin. That bastard had his men kidnap Cara, pulling her into his car to relay threats for her ownfather.
The memory of her turning up at my door, disheveled and panicked fills my mind. I could have been kinder that night, though the image of her naked on my couch tweaks warm at the corner of my mouth.
“Feliks!” the Pakhan booms so loud it catches me off guard and a flinch rolls through my limbs.
Focus, Killian!
Right. Outside, the Pakhan has stopped a few feet away from Feliks whose head is tilted down.
“You call me middle of ze night, drag me from my bed and for vhat?”
“Yes sir. It’s important though.”
Every note from that man’s voice grates on my ears and I shift my weight slightly as numbness threatens my thighs.
“I’ve learned something. Something that could not wait for morning and had to be delivered to you directly,” Feliks replies calmly.
“You forget yourself!” the Pakhan snaps, “you forget your place. I have been kind, since ze passing of your brother but you overreach! Anything you have, you bring to ze people, you do not demand my presence!”
And yet you’re here, I think with a scoff.Wonder what classifies as kindness in his world.
“It’s about the Italians,” Feliks says and he lifts his head. “As I said, I thought it best delivered directly given the nature of things right now. And… there isn’t anyone left between me and you to relay information.”
Of course. The other brigadiers are dead.
The surge of purple anger that rises in the Pakhan’s face seems to melt away at the mention of the Italians.
“Ze Italians bastards? You found somezing? Speak boy!”
