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1
EFREM
Tucking my gun into the back of my belt, I slip from the taxi as soon as it pulls up in front of Kaleidoscope. The bouncers at the door attempt to stop me as I climb the steps into the noisy club, but when I warn them in Russian that Mikhail’s going to be pissed if they make me late for our meeting, they let me slip by with little resistance.
The men standing guard in front of Mikhail’s private room are another matter. The trolls scowl at me, arms crossed over their broad chests in an attempt at intimidation. But nothing is going to stop me from finding Dani. And if I know Mikhail, this is where he brought her.
“I’m here to see Mikhail,” I state, trying the same trick as I did on the bouncers out front, hoping these idiots are just as gullible.
Not a chance.
The one on the right eyes me up and down before unleashing an ugly sneer. “Better luck next time. He won’t want to see your ugly mug when he’s got a sweet little piece in there with him right now.”
My stomach knots, though the confirmation that I’m in the right place offers me a modicum of relief. “Don’t blame me when he finds out you’re responsible for delaying our meeting.”
“You think we’re stupid?” the guard on the left demands. “Mikhail doesn’t share. And he’s currently preoccupied, so fuck off, mudak.”
Temper rising, I clench my fists, debating whether it would be faster to kill these guys or try to reason with them. I’m leaning toward the former. And then my blood turns to ice as I hear Dani scream.
My ears ring as my vision goes red, and in an instant, I have my flip knives in hand. My gun is a last resort—one I’m willing to use but would prefer not to because I don’t know where Dani is exactly, and I don’t want a stray bullet to hit her.
“The fuck are you doing?” the guard on the right shouts, his hand immediately going for the gun in his waistband.
I’m on him in an instant, kicking the weapon free of his hand and sending it spinning away across the club’s floor.
“Idiot!” his friend snarls, going for his own gun as I engage the disarmed guard.
Circling around the first guard, I force his body between me and the gun as the second guard tries to aim over his friend’s shoulder.
“Shoot me. I dare you,” I taunt the second guard.
“Put the fucking gun down, Vlad!” the first guard snaps, his eyes widening when he sees how close he is to being shot.
Then I’m on him, closing the distance between us as I drop low, using his chest as my shield. I might be big, but so are these idiots, and I’ve trained for years in close combat, which makes me a hell of a lot faster.
I make swift work of him, moving up his body as I slash his torso with one knife and stab upward beneath his ribs with the other. His eyes widen in shock as the blade slips free of his body a moment later. But I’m not done.
Gripping the back of his neck with one hand, I slit his throat in an instant. Stunned, he releases a choked gurgle as the blood runs down his chest. Then he drops to the grounds.
Shocked, his partner watches him fall, his gun wavering just enough to give me an opening. I close the six feet between us, ducking to the side so I’m not in his direct line of sight. And at that moment, he manages to recover.
Bringing the gun up just as I reach him, he gets off one shot.
A shot that sets my ears roaring as the bullet explodes past my shoulder.
The club is so loud that the shot goes all but unnoticed except for the people sitting in the nearest booth. And as I knock the gun from the guard’s hands, I catch the clubgoers slipping from their table to make their escape.
The second man is ready for me, his hands deflecting my first few attempts to drive my knives home. His knee comes up to catch me in the ribs, and I tense, taking the blow without relenting my attack.
Thrusting forward, I drive the guard back against the door as he jumps away from my knife’s sharp edge. And in an instant, he has nowhere to go. He knows it too. Cussing virulently, he searches for an exit strategy, but I’m so filled with rage that this bastard doesn’t get to live.
Slashing and stabbing, I create gaping wounds across his chest and abdomen within seconds, giving him a quick death as I open his throat like I did his friend’s. Breathing heavily, I flick my knives closed, then bend to grip his shirt and haul him out of the doorway.
Grasping the door handle, I palm my gun, though I leave it hidden, tucked away in my belt. Then I push the door open. I step cautiously inside the private room. Scanning the space quickly, I find myself alone with Mikhail.
And Dani in his arms.
I recognize her petite form instantly as her platinum blonde chic bob stands out starkly against Mikhail’s dark suit. My stomach drops at the sight of her arm twisted at an unnatural angle behind her back. And I can see from her profile the tears and agony on her face.
