Page 32 of Reign of Four

She pops the snap on my spare holster and claims my Glock for herself. “It is that simple. Let’s go.”

Valentina doesn’t have armor. Or a vest. Or panties, if the slip of bare thigh beneath my palm is anything to go by. She’s not safe here. No one will be aiming for her, but a person’s aim only has to be off by a few inches for the damage to be done.

“I’m not losing you.” I grab her arm to keep her from slipping free and running into danger. I love the fire in her heart, but it’s going to get her killed. “We’re not losing you.”

She glares up at me and juts her chin out, defiant as hell. “We’re not losing Ezra, either. You said it yourself: you need Andrei to cover your back, and he’s gonna need you to cover his. All three of you need each other. End of discussion.”

Andrei wraps his palm around Valentina’s throat and curves his spine to rumble in her ear. Fuck, it’s kind of hot. That pretty pink flush from before darkens, burning scarlet across her cheeks, as a soft whimper catches in her throat. Andrei’s other hand grabs her hip, and then their bodies move together in a slow, painful grind.

“Our queen wants us to work together.” He licks the shell of her ear. “If she promises to follow orders, to run when we tell her to run, then we’ll go save Ezra together.”

The whole notion of saving Ezra is ludicrous. The man is a tank. I’ve never seen him taken down.

But the way Valentina’s pupils blow wide and her breath catches—fuck, my cock’s never going soft at this rate.

Saving Ezra together, all three of us, doesn’t sound so bad, after all. Seeing my girl with a gun is hot as hell, and she’s got a fire in her eyes that I can’t wait to sink my teeth into. Yeah. Let’s save the bastard. We can fuck our frustrations out when we get to him. Sit Valentina down on his face as punishment for making her worry.

Valentina whimpers as Andrei’s hand travels up her thigh and beneath her dress. “Y-yes. I will. I’ll run. I’ll listen.”

I slide my palm up the inside of Valentina’s arm, enjoying the feel of her soft skin, until I reach her gun hand and readjust her grip. Even though we gave her lessons, her fundamentals are shaky. Experience like tonight will help with that. Fuck, I love seeing her hold a deadly weapon. Licking my lips, I savor the flush trailing down her neck and the way her dress rucks higher up her thighs with each rotation of their hips.

Let’s save the bastard, then fuck the girl.

Wrapping my palm around hers, I lift her gun to my chest and press the barrel over my heart. Its beat is strong and steady, now that we have our woman back. Her eyes widen as I kiss the cool metal for good luck, then press another to the back of her palm. “Aim straight for the heart, and you’ll never miss.”

She stumbles at first when we release her but quickly catches herself, staying in stride with us as we cut to the back of the house. All three of us know the layout like the back of our hands, ironically, so it’s quick work to make it outside.

The minute we step outside and I recognize what the fuck is going on, ice floods my veins and damn near stops my heart.

Thanatos is lying comatose against a concrete garden statue—some half-naked Greek god, go figure—but it’s Ezra on his knees that makes my chest seize. One of Liam’s men has Ezra’s arms locked behind him and a knee planted on Ezra’s spine, the position eerily similar to the one we forced Liam into a few weeks ago, when Ezra beat the shit out of him and we left him to bleed out on the pavement behind our club.

We’ve walked into a fucking trap, and it’s not looking too good for us.

“Hello, boys.” Liam’s not smiling. I take it he doesn’t enjoy violence as much as we do. It’s yet another reason why he’s not fit for the role of pakhan. You have to have a stomach for bloodshed, and Liam’s all about letting his little poisons do the dirty work for him.

I spare a glance at Thanatos, hiding my wince. It would have taken a hell of a dose to knock him out, something potent that works fast. His arm spasms violently, and I breathe a sigh of relief that he’s not dead, just incapacitated.

Much like our man Ezra Reinoff.

“Let’s play a game.” Liam holds a pistol to Ezra’s temple. “After all, I know how much you love games.” Even as he addresses all of us, he only has eyes for Valentina. Watching her. Memorizing her. Breaking her. He licks his lips as she pales to deathly white.

This is what she was afraid of. That night, in the limo, when she froze up on the way to lure out her stalker. She was scared we would get hurt. That we would die if Liam caught us.

My heart hammers in my chest as leaden dread pumps hard through my veins. This is Valentina’s worst nightmare come to life.

At the time, Ezra said that he was hard to kill, that he moves first before his opponent gets the opportunity. But right now, with that glazed look in his eye and a trail of blood down the side of his face, it looks like he underestimated his opponent.

He looks like he’s finally about to meet the Reaper he’s spent his entire life evading.

Liam digs the gun harder into Ezra’s temple. “This one’s called Russian roulette. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” He cocks the gun, slotting a bullet into place. Or not, if the chamber is empty. Fuck. There’s no way to know if he’s bluffing or not.

He pulls the trigger.

All I hear is Valentina’s scream.

Chapter 11

Valentina

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