Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Who is that?” I cry. The phone keeps going off, blaring in the sudden silence of the room. I can still hear the sirens in the distance, getting closer.
“My daughter,” my uncle croaks, hands scrabbling against Kharon’s grip around his neck. “Mercy.”
He hid the fact that he had a daughter from us. Because he planned to betray us all along.
“Like the mercy you showed me and my father?” I scream at him, then push a button on the side of the phone to silence it. It only starts ringing again moments later. My eyes ping all around the room. We don’t have time for any of this.
The girl cries even louder. A cold part of my mind whispers, so what if she’s collateral damage? The job you do, you always knew this was a risk. And if ever a target was worth it. . .
But then I blink, my whole body starting to shake at the coldness of that logic.
Am I really going to kill her father in front of her?
Just like they did to my mother in front of me all those years ago? Are we really going to start this cycle of violence all over again?
I walk past Kharon, shoving the phone into one of his hands. “Turn him towards me so she can’t see,” I hiss, barely sure of my decision even as I’m making it.
Kharon spins and does as I ask, flipping my uncle and holding him beneath his armpits so he dangles like a rag-doll in front of me. Kharon’s arm shakes with rage. Uncle Pavel keeps twisting to look behind him, unable to see what or who is holding him up.
“Who are you talking to?” he demands.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Uncle,” I say, swiftly pulling a knife and holding it to his stomach so his daughter can’t see. “I want you to remember this moment and know how very much I want to gut you where you hang. I’ve envisioned this moment a hundred times. You know I know how to make it hurt. I’d enjoy watching you squirm, beg, and cry as you died like the rat you are.”
He wets himself, and I smile.
“You saw how easy it was for me to get to you today. The best part is you’ll never even understand how.” To Kharon, I say, “Give him a little shake to remind him of the power I wield. Power he’ll never understand.”
Kharon shakes him like a dog until his teeth rattle and then drops him to the floor.
I lean down. “No matter how many men you surround yourself with or what hole you crawl into, you’re never safe from me. And if you foolishly decide to come for me, you’ll be snatched from the land of the living by forces you could never hope to comprehend. Don’t misunderstand. This is not mercy. This is you using your daughter as a shield, which only works once.”
I turn and sprint from the room and up the stairs. As soon as I reach the top, I all but leap into Kharon’s arms. That damn phone is still going off, but obviously, he can easily hold it and me as he runs and leaps out the door right as the Politsiya arrive. He’s faster than the armed officers spilling out of their cars, thank god. Ending up in a Russian prison is not how I envisioned ending the night.
They lift their guns, and bullets start coming our way. I’m not sure if they can see me magically floating through the air or just because of the damn ringing cell phone. Either way, Kharon shields me with his back, tucking me closer against his chest as he sprints across the back courtyard, clearing the fence and not stopping.
His motions are so fluid, and I’ve finally become somewhat used to this mode of travel. As long as I squeeze my eyes shut and cling to him, I’m not too bothered. Especially because he does provide a very efficient method of escape.
He flies down an alleyway that would be narrow for a car, and when I next peek an eye open, I see that we’re in downtown St. Petersburg and he’s scaling up the side of a high-rise. I slam my eyes shut again and cling even tighter to his neck, my hair whipping around in the wind as we go higher and higher.
He finally stops when we’re on the roof.
“You should have let me kill him!” he roars. Then he lifts the phone. “What is this noise-making abomination? It draws attention. I will crush it!”
“It’s not mine,” I say, landing on wobbly feet as he lets me down and holds out the phone. “It was in the backpack. Your family must have packed it.”
He frowns down at the device, which has just started ringing again.