Oh well. Small price to pay.
I lean down to check Mikhail’s wound. I got him good. There’s a cut on the back of his head that’s quickly staining his blond hair a nasty red color. Head wounds bleed like a motherfucker, so after making sure it’s not too deep, I search his pockets until I find a set of keys.
“I didn’t lie to you. I’m not going to run like last time. I’m going to drive.” Giving his shoulder a quick pat, I stand up and frown as I glance down at what I’m wearing. Short shorts and a tiny tank top are hardly warrior attire, but I don’t have the time to change. It’ll have to do.
Stopping by the bedroom, I quickly unzip the black bag I saw Niko digging in earlier. Grabbing a gun and extra ammo, I climb to my feet, when I see something else that catches my attention. Bending back down, I pick it up and wrap everything in an extra T-shirt before running out the front door.
Mikhail’s car isn’t nearly as fancy as Niko’s, but it starts when I put the key in and it moves when I press the gas. I have no idea how to navigate my way out of here; I just hope I’ve paid enough attention when Niko drove us here to not get lost.
He’s going to be furious when he finds out what I’ve done, but at this point I have nothing left to lose. Niko has made up his mind about me, no matter what I say. I warned him Sergei wouldn’t hand over his mother without a fight. Fortunately, I know how that man’s mind works, and all it will take to bring him down is the Butterfly Effect.
It sounds harmless, but it’s not. It’s the idea that a minor change in circumstance can completely change the outcome. A butterfly flaps its wings in the Brazilian rainforest and subsequently, a tsunami takes out half of the Pacific Rim. Of course, I’m no butterfly, and this isn’t a rainforest, but the storm I’m about to cause? That’s real. And it’s going to be brutal.
I’ve done what I thought was right. I’ve tried to right my wrongs.
But like I said, I’m no butterfly.
I’m a motherfucking bee.
And it won’t be the flap of a butterfly’s wings that starts this storm.
It’ll be the sting no one saw coming.
Niko
“Listen to me! It’s a trap!
Ava’s words echo in my head as I walk quietly around the back entrance of Seven. I don’t want to let her in my head, but something about what she said is bothering me. I heard her voice at Seven. I heard my mother’s voice. Sergei couldn’t fake either one. Still, I’m a trained assassin, not some idiot who’s going to run into a burning building just because someone yelled fire. It’s late, and the club is going to be packed. He won’t risk having my mother anywhere near the front. Plus, since he probably plans on killing Ava himself, he sure as hell won’t want anyone seeing her face. He’ll expect me to come around back.
“Do I have moron written across my forehead? I worked for the man for five years, Ava. I know how he operates. Once I bring you to him, he’ll kill us all.”
My own words haunt me. I do know the man. I know what he’s capable of when people get in his way. My father got in his way, and before the smoke even cleared after I pulled the trigger, he was there offering a trade. My mother’s freedom in exchange for mine. Just like now.
Fuck. I need eyes on the inside. As much as Blade stuck his neck out to tell me the truth, he’s still on the Chernov payroll. I can’t trust him. That only leaves one person. I hate like hell to do this, but I’m not about to walk into a trap. Pulling Ava’s smashed phone out of my pocket, I enter the passcode and scroll the contact list until I find the name I want. Pressing the button, I wait.
“Ava! Thank God, I’ve been so worried—”
“Rose, it’s Nick. I need your help.”
“Nick.” She says my name slowly, and I can imagine her frantically scanning for security. “What have you done with Ava?”
The last few hours come crashing down on me, and my temper blazes out of control. “Rose, listen to me!” I yell. “Ava’s in trouble! Stop asking me stupid questions and tell me what part of the club Sergei’s in.”
“Sergei’s not here.”
My blood turns to ice. “What?”
“I haven’t seen him in days.” Her voice trails off, as if she’s turned away from the phone. “Oh, but if you want to talk to Dmitry, he’s in his office. Let me get him for you. I’m right here.”
“No! Wait!”
I never get the last word out. Her scream interrupts it, tearing through the phone like shattering shards of glass.
“I am at Seven with your mother, Nikolai. Bring me my daughter, and I will free her. Fuck with me, and she will never make it off this plastic.”
She’ll never make it off this plastic.
Seven doesn’t have plastic.
The Chernov basement does.
The phone drops from my hand as a blast fires in the darkness. A searing pain tears through my side, and I stagger backward, slamming against the concrete wall. As dark figure makes its way over to me, I realize Ava was right.
Nothing was waiting for me here but a trap.
A man’s tall frame moves toward me, almost glowing under the crimson light. “Ready to dance with the devil, Gaheris?”
Niko
A searing burn shoots across my ribcage as I grab my rucksack and climb out of the car. The minute I run my hand under my jacket, a sticky warmth seeps in between my fingers from a tear in my shirt.
Fuck. That asshole got a lucky shot. Thankfully, he missed anything important.
“I don’t have time for this shit,” I grumble under my breath.
The fucked-up thing about being shot in the dark is that you don’t have a face to hunt down later. Taking that hit only pissed me off, and by the time I came off that wall and aimed my gun, Blade kicked the back door open and stood in direct line of my shot. A few seconds was all that asshole needed to run off before I could take him out.
I could’ve chased him, but his death isn’t as important as my mother’s life.
After making the thirty-minute drive from Miami to Sunny Isles Beach in less than twenty, I leave the Audi behind and jump the iron fence to Sergei’s compound. Hovering near the edge of the property, I take stock of the men standing between me and vengeance.
There are two guards at both the front and the back entrances and two at the east and west ends. I’ve faced worse, so I’m not too concerned with the odds. It’s the four patroling the roof top who impede my mission. I have no doubt they’re sharp shooters. One miscalculated move and the party’s over before it gets started.
Obviously, the easiest way is through the front door, but it’s the also the riskiest. Anyone could see me and even the best marksman doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head. One of the other guards could hear my shots, circle around me, and put a bullet in my skull.
Think, Niko.
The back door is the quickest route to Sergei’s office. I could quietly slit the throat of the closest side guard then slip around and take out the men securing the back door, but I reject the idea as soon as it forms. I didn’t become a legend by leaving loose ends.
I’m Niko fucking Gaheris.
Running on adrenaline, I wait for the roof guard closest to me to scan left then I sprint right. The soldier patrolling the easternmost side of the estate sees me a fraction of a second too late. As he aims his rifle, I sink my knife into the hollow of his throat. The man’s eyes widen, his only sound a wet gurgle just before he stills. Without an ounce of remorse, I withdraw my blade and his lifeless body crumples to the ground. When his partner comes running, I spin around and he meets the same fate.
Two down.
Steeling myself against the wall, I slowly make my way toward the back entrance. A glance around the corner confirms two guards are standing at attention roughly thirty feet apart. I can’t risk one of them calling out a warning, so I take a risk.
“Dmitry poslal menya.” Dmitry sent me.
As I anticipated, instead of shouting, they salute, providing me time to put a bullet betwe
en their eyes.
Four down.
The double shots echo, and movement coincides with a voice shouting from above.
“Narushitel!” Intruder.
He’s called for execution on sight. Stealth-mode is officially over.
Shoving my MK23 in my holster, I retreat toward the guard I knifed and reach blindly over my shoulder until my hand lands on the SIG. With one hard jerk, the machine gun is in my hand, and a split second later, the lever’s pulled back and I’m ready to fire.
Rat-tat-tat-tat.
Shit! I’m losing time. I don’t have time to fuck around anymore.
Dropping to the ground, I spray an entire round of bullets toward the roof. One by one, bodies fall from the sky, crashing around me in bloodied red and black fury. When I’m positive the last one has hit, I barrel roll across the grass.
And all ten fall down.
Sprinting toward the front door, I kick my way through the scattered bodies until I find the only useful thing left of these assholes. Picking up a bloodied wrist, I bring the blade of my stained knife down hard on the base of the knuckle, then press the index finger against the biometric scanner. Immediately, a green light flashes and there’s a low-pitched buzzing sound granting me access. I tuck the finger in my bag for later.
Better to be prepared than dead.
Considering the battle I endured on the grounds, the first leg of my passage into Sergei’s house goes smoothly. Too smoothly. I’ve never known Sergei not to have at least half a dozen guards stationed around each entryway into his estate. That fact alone is enough to raise suspicion, but something else prevents me from pushing forward.
Uneasy, I retrieve the assault rifle strapped to my back and make my way down the long hallway toward Sergei’s secret office. The quiet makes me take a step back.
I’m Bratva and a Cavalieri.
I’m trained to hear a whisper in a crowd. A click of a lock. A clink of a grenade pin as it hits the floor.
I turn and haul ass down the hall while covering my ears just before all hell breaks loose.
BOOM!
One hell of a blast rips through the enclosed tunnel, the thundering force powerful enough to shake the walls and cause my ears to ring. Within seconds, thick black smoke billows into the room between a crack in the foundation next to the door. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and where there’s fire, there’s a chance Sergei will be cremated in his own office.
After a quick inspection, I’m satisfied all limbs are still intact and climb to my feet. Using the guard’s finger, I open the door to the secret stairwell and confirm my suspicions. Bright orange and yellow flames lick what’s left of the walls, and there’s a gaping hole where the hallway used to be. The men, who I assume were there moments earlier, are gone, leaving blood-splattered walls as the only evidence they ever existed.
What the hell just happened?
Niko
“What took you so long?”
I’ll give the asshole credit, he doesn’t flinch, even after I hurl his guard’s severed finger across the room, sending it skidding across his desk. His hardened gaze is filled with irritation as if the extra time I spent butchering his personal army offends him more than the loss itself.
I raise the gun and tap it against my ear. “You know, they say the hearing is the first thing to go. Let me help you out. Someone blew up your house.”
Smoke from the hallway begins to seep into the room, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care as he lets out a hearty laugh. “There are not too many men who dare talk back to me and live to tell about it, Nikolai. You could have been useful to me. It is too bad you chose to kill my step-son instead.”
“I didn’t kill that motherfucker, and you know it. You set me up.”
From my position in the doorway, I stare into the eyes I see every time I draw blood. Now the real thing sits less than fifteen feet away, hiding behind an expensive suit and slicked back hair, an arrogant smirk splitting his graying goatee. To the unsuspecting eye, the image he’s cultivated could almost pass as refined.
Almost.
I know better. Disguising himself doesn’t change who he is. The devil can wrap himself in royalty before ascending his throne, but he can’t hide the souls he’s taken to get there.
I should know.
He pauses to gaze toward his right and strokes his goatee. “So, you passed the first test. What happens now?”
“Now you pay for your sins.”
Sergei gestures toward me and laughs. “Have you looked in the mirror lately, Nikolai? You force your way into my house spouting this vigilante bullshit as if you have been granted a badge of honor? Bratva blood runs through both our veins. You are your father’s son.”
My hatred gets the better of me, and I charge toward him, pressing the barrel of the gun against the middle of his forehead. “I’m nothing like him.”
Having a gun to his head doesn’t faze him. In fact, the bastard almost looks bored. “Then enlighten me. What offense am I to answer for now?”
My voice lowers, shaking with rage. “For starters? Ava.”
“My pride and joy.” He smiles at me with a wicked grin, and I want to rip his tongue out.
Rage flows hot in my veins as I raise my gun. “You mean your whore-for-hire. You sold her innocence, you son of a bitch. What kind of father sells his own daughter into prostitution?”
“One who easily made her pay for your escape. As far as she knew, I still had your life in my hands and would do anything to protect it.” Black eyes dart to me then narrow. “Of course, I would be careful throwing accusations around publicly if I were you.”
I pull the slide back on my gun. “I’d be covering my dick if I were you.”
He ignores me and motions around the room. “There is no way out of here for any of us, Nikolai. As you pointed out, my fucking house is on fire.”
“You’ll be in hell long before you burn.”
He runs the back of his hand across his chin. “You think you have the balls? Go ahead and send me to hell, but you will be joining me.”
“Wrong again, asshole. This time I’m calling the shots.” I take a quick glance around the room, grinding out the words slowly, “Where…is…my…mother?”
“Gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?”
“I told you, if you fucked with me, she would never make it off the plastic.”
My jaw ticks, and on an indrawn breath I absorb the ultimate betrayal. “You motherfucker.”
For thirteen years, my actions destroyed our family, leaving my mother on her own with only random deliveries of money to keep her off the street. My actions erased my identity, causing me to almost forget what her voice sounded like until this morning. Now my selfish actions have caused her death.
I hear a strangled groan, and realizing it came from me, I slump against the desk. I’m distracted, and it’s what he’s been waiting for.
“Fuck your mother and your whore!” With a growl, he reaches under his desk, wincing before attempting to launch himself out of his chair.
Sergei’s quick, but I’m quicker, and the moment I see the glint of the blade in his hand, I don’t hesitate in pulling the trigger. He stumbles backward, his eyes widening and a stain of red blooming across his chest.
“Iius Khristos!” Dropping to his knees, he clutches his chest dramatically as a blade clatters to the floor. “Can you assholes not aim?”
Only then do I notice the wound on his right thigh. It looks like someone tried to take out his dick. My chest squeezes at the thought of my mom fighting until the end. “Maybe she wanted you to bleed out as slowly as I do.”
He’s wheezing, but I have no idea if it’s from the gaping hole in his shoulder, his leg, or the growing black smoke filtering into the room. Glancing down, I see the blade he dropped and raise an eyebrow. I’m impressed. I expected a dagger, not huge Russian shashka.
Tucking my gun in its holster, I crouch down and inspect it with renewed in
terest. “Nice sabre. Sharp and single-edged with a curved blade. Should work just fine.”
He glances to the right. “Nikolai, please…”
My anger and hatred get the better of me. “Please?” Grabbing him by the tie, I haul him off the floor and back into his chair. “How many times did Ava beg you please? How about my mother? Did she beg you please too?”
I don’t wait for him to answer. Nothing he could say will change the outcome. “I wish I could carve you up piece by piece, Sergei, but I have to be going. Give my best to your bastard step-son.” I raise the sword in the air and with one powerful swing, the blade slices through flesh and bone, sending the decapitated head of the Miami Bratva boss sailing across the room.
It slams against the wall, and a satisfied wave of justice surges through me as a horrified scream pierces the thick air. Before I can investigate, there’s movement to my right along with labored breathing.
There’s someone else here.
I curse my own recklessness. In my rush to end Sergei, I forgot one of the main rules of business—always secure the perimeter. Dropping the sword, I pull my gun while scanning the room. Unfortunately, the smoke has thickened, and I can barely see a few feet in front of me. Covering my mouth and nose with my jacket, I move to finish this.
After a quick sweep of the room, I find a pair of dainty feet crouched behind the long heavy curtain. A woman. One of his favorites probably. If I had a soul left, this is where I might give a shit.
“You saw what I did, so you only have two options,” I call out. “If you come out here on your own, I’ll end this quickly.”
Only a moron would accept those terms. She has to know the steps she takes will be her last. I don’t even know why I’m wasting my time. I should pull the trigger and be done with it.
Darkest Deeds: Cavalieri Della Morte Page 17
