Page 57 of Darkest Deeds

Ava

I’ve never felt freer.

Or more vulnerable.

Lying face down, I’m drained but strangely at peace. Under his watchful gaze, I take a shallow breath and close my eyes. The old Ava is dead, replaced by a woman I convinced myself no longer existed. One I foolishly locked away eight years ago, determined to cleanse myself of the tainted blood running through my veins.

After last night, everything has changed, and it’s not just because I submitted control of my body to another man, allowing him to draw blood from me. It’s because when Niko unleashed his inner monster, so did I.

And now that she’s out, there’s no going back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Niko’s fingers thread through my hair, his other hand resting low across my back.

Do I?

Is the depravity of the act we shared dark enough to speak the words aloud? To admit that after stabbing my step-brother to death, I became obsessed with knives. That I got myself off night after night to the memory of slicing his flesh open and watching the life spill onto my hands. That the craving for blood became so unbearable that instead of indulging in it, I punished myself. That I absolved myself of all sin and villainized my father because deep down, I knew a more twisted evil dwelled within me.

And now, after watching someone I’ve loved my entire life murder an innocent man in cold blood, do I want to admit that the bloodthirsty creature I’ve held back for so long reveled in it? To confess I became so overcome with lust, I wanted to hurt and be hurt.

“No,” I say, brushing my lips against his warm skin before turning and resting my cheek against his chest. “Not yet.”

He doesn’t push me, simply nodding as we lay quietly in the still light of his bedroom. Anyone else would question my sanity, but Niko has always accepted me as I am, flaws and all. Even when I didn’t speak up for him when he needed me the most, he still holds me like I’m perfect.

Trailing my fingers up his bare chest, I trace the intricate tattoo that starts below his left pectoral muscle. The design is bold, a double headed crowned eagle holding a scepter in one talon and an orb in the other. In the center of the tattoo is an image of a mounted knight slaying a dragon. It’s as terrifying as it is beautiful.

“What does this mean?”

“It’s the Romanov family crest.”

I blink in confusion, my hand stilling its path. “But your last name is Garetovsky.” I curl my fingers, remembering it isn’t anymore. “Or Gaheris. Forget it. I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”

Niko chuckles, his chest rumbling against my cheek. “Romanova is my mother’s maiden name, and this tattoo is the Romanov family crest. My mother’s family came to America when she was eighteen. Unfortunately for her, they settled in Miami. She felt like a fish out of water, so she sought out other Russians. It wasn’t long until she met Vadim Garetovsky. It was love at first sight, and nine months later, I came along.”

“Somehow I don’t think this story has a happy ending.”

“My father told her he managed a club, although he neglected to say what kind.”

“A strip club.”

“Not just any strip club, pchelka. My father managed Seven. He was an unfaithful, drunk son of a bitch who beat the shit out my mother on a regular basis. She took it, thinking if she let him treat her like a goddamn punching bag, he’d leave me alone.”

“What happened?”

“I grew up, that’s what happened. When I was seventeen, I came home from school to find her beaten half to death with a whiskey bottle. Before he could sober up, I pumped five bullets in the motherfucker.” I press my lips against him as his body shakes with anger. “I was about to take Mom to the hospital when a car pulled up outside the house.”

“The police?”

“Worse. Your father. It seems mine had been laundering money for him and the whiskey had gotten them both on the Feds’ radar. Sergei had come to get rid of him, and I beat him to the punch. He was so impressed, he offered to fix up my mom and hide my dad’s body on one condition.”

“You come work for him,” I say quietly. His shift in breathing is my answer. So that’s how he ended up working for my father. As much time as we spent together when I was young, I suddenly realize how little Niko spoke of his past, and how little I thought to ask.

“I still don’t understand how you ended up with the name Gaheris.”

“When I joined the Tabella Della Morte, Arthur felt it was best to sever my ties with the outside world. After everything that had happened, I was more than ready to start over, so once I signed the contract, Nikolai Garetovsky died, and Niko Gaheris took over.”

“And the tattoo?”

“To remind me who I am and where I came from. No matter what name I call myself, I’ll always be a man who will do anything to protect the people he loves.”

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