Page 59 of Dust to Dust

I could never forget about you, Ghost. You never shut up.

Under the pads of my thumbs, it feels wet and slippery. Franco roared as I pushed in with all my strength. I lunged forward, putting my entire body into my thumbs as they pressed his chocolate brown eyes deep into his sockets.

Lady luck finally appeared on my side. The gambler just won.

"Don't underestimate him, Kukla. When you see an opportunity go for it. Don't let the voices inside your head cloud your judgment."

My brain repeated Anton's order, and I did just that. After all, I was nothing but a pawn, a doll that was trained to kill. As Franco fell back onto the dining table, he clasped his eyes, leaving the knife buried in my stomach at my disposal. Gnashing my teeth to the point of cracking, I pulled it out with one fast withdrawal.

He staggered back and blinked repeatedly. His right hand reached back for his gun.

"Fuck!" I wrapped my shaking fingers around the knife and pulled. It hurt worst than you could imagine. For the first time in years, I prayed.

I swung back my arm, the knife in my hand, and stabbed it forward right as he grabbed his gun. It landed in his chest but not to the hilt. It only sunk two inches in. Not deep enough to kill.

Shock marred his face, "Guards!" He screamed. His cries were fruitless, and he knew it.

The's when I saw the real panic in his eyes. "Is that the same look of panic you gave your daddy when he hurt your and mommy? You never stood up for her, and now you treat women like your daddy did. You're pathetic and weak. You'll never rule the world, Frank." I poured and poured more salt into his insecure wounds.

I started to feel my world tilt as the blood loss from my stab wound started to affect me. The warmth from the bleeding blood coated my bare legs. There was no way out now. I was bleeding too much. Franco must have hit something vital. I wouldn't die until I saw this fucker wiped from the earth.

I raised my left hand and curled it around my right hand, still clenched around the knife. With both hands, I pushed the blade deeper. I could feel the sides of the serrated edge grind against bone. It moved along his ribs until it reached my final target.

His dirty little heart.

Franco wrapped his arms around my throat and squeezed. Mesmerized, I watched the moment flicker in his eyes when the knife tip pierced his beating heart. With luck, the next beat would further sink the knife deeper.

"It's always more entertaining," I gasped through his grip on my throat, "to kill the devil. Even God has struggled to do that."

His face started to pale. Using his dying breath, he pushed hard on my throat. My knees give out. My body crumpled down on his body which was leaning over the dining room table. We grabbed for each other, and both fell to the floor. His hands fell from my throat in harmony with my hands as they dropped from the knife.

We each lay on our sides. I gasped for air, as did Franco. In the distance, I heard gunshots. But I knew it wasn't Titan or Damian. They were too far away to save me now. As air filled my lungs, life faded from Franco. I watched as his eyes dimmed and the final bit of the monster seeped away.

I look into the dead eyes of the man who threatened my family as I lay on the floor beside him. I finally had my answers about what Julius Caesar felt when bleeding out. It's oddly satisfying. The warmth of the blood pouring from my wound heated my burning stomach. Everything started to tingle as the blood from my other appendages rushed to repair what it couldn't. My fingers felt numb, but I couldn't tell whether they were cold or hot.

Gunshots sounded again. The double doors to the dining room opened. Boots ran against the floor, and then a shadow fell over me.

"Jesus, she's losing too much." A man said in Russian. I didn't know his voice and his dialect sounded strange.

"Stay with me, Kukla."

I rolled on my back, and I felt again. As the stab wound was stretched and pulled, I moaned, but that was nothing compared to the pressure now applied.

"Fuck you," I murmured to Anton. He snorted a laugh as he worked with another man to stop my bleeding.

"You're going to make it," Anton told me. I didn't believe him, his voice was strong, but his eyes held a fear I wasn't used to seeing.

I don't want to make it either.

I couldn't face Titan, knowing I betrayed him by coming here, but Anton didn't give me a choice. I was lifted with great care as Anton held me to his chest and ran through the mansion. Bodies and blood lined the halls. I must have blacked out because I was in a helicopter when I opened my eyes again. Oxygen and needles were stuck in my body.

"You lied," I confessed, my voice a mere whisper.

"If we knew all the answers, it would not be a test, Kukla." Anton gently grabbed my hand, avoiding the needles. He bent down to my ear, "You passed. Your rites are finished."

Chapter 47

She's alive.

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