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Suddenly, I’m back in the training room with Anya. She’s behind me, her hand wrapped around my neck.
“Destabilize,” Anya instructed. “That’s your only goal in this position. You want to get the person off balance long enough to escape. Slam them against a wall, kick their kneecaps, rock back and forth—whatever it takes to loosen their grip.”
Without another thought, I grab Francia’s wrist and pray my grip is strong enough to keep her from stabbing me in the throat. Then I throw all of my momentum backwards and slam her spine against the wall.
I feel the air whoosh out of her, hot on my neck.
Ivan rushes forward, but I’m not waiting for him. Not when I have her exactly where I want her.
I spin around, grab her wrist with my other hand, and drive Francia’s own hand still holding the knife straight up into her jugular.
Her eyes go wide as hot blood pulses from her neck and pours over our interlaced hands. Her lips move, but no words come out. I’m glad. The time for her to explain and rationalize is over. She was a crazy bitch, and now, she’s a dead, crazy bitch.
“The only person’s fate you should have been worried about is your own,” I say, stepping back as she slides to the floor. “Ivan belongs to me.”
64
IVAN
Cora is swaying over Francia’s body, blood dripping from her fingertips onto the tile floor.
She looks like hell, but she did it.
Cora killed Francia.
Since the moment I got the call at the warehouse, all I’ve wanted to do is get to Cora. Now, I take a moment to admire her. Bloodstained and breathless and fuckingfierce.My queen.
Then she takes a stumbling step away from Francia and I can’t wait another goddamn second. I need to hold her and feel her, warm and alive, in my arms.
Cora keeps backing up until she thuds against my chest. I catch her with an arm around her waist and press my lips to her ear. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
She jolts for only a second before she sinks against my chest. “Ivan.”
“You were fucking incredible,” I whisper. “You did everything right. Everything we taught you. You were amazing.”
If I had things my way, Cora would have never learned to fight. It wouldn’t have been necessary. But I’m glad she did. She took care of herself and I could not be prouder.
Her head lolls back against my shoulder. “I’m tired. My head… I’m dizzy.”
I press a kiss to her temple—the same spot where, just a few minutes ago, Francia had pointed a gun. I’m not sure the image of Cora on the ground at Francia’s mercy will ever fully leave my head. That is the kind of shit that haunts you.
I’ll remember it forever.
And make sure it never happens again.
“You’re okay now,” I tell her. “I’m going to get you to the doctor. You’ll rest and be fine.”
She sighs. “Thank you, Ivan.”
I’m so focused on her heartbeat fluttering in her throat and the way her lips part around a sigh that I don’t hear the footsteps behind me until it’s almost too late.
At the last second, I push Cora forward and spin around, positioning myself between her and the threat.
In this case, the threat is Alexander McAllister. And he’s pointing a gun directly at my chest.
At this point, I’m more annoyed than anything.When are these bastards going to give up?
“I knew you weren’t going to disappear. That would’ve been the smart thing to do.”
