Page 118 of Kings of Violence

Nikolai presses forward, and a glance at his hand shows his white-knuckled grasp on the handle of the knife Yuri had given him.

There are three guards standing in front of a large set of double-doors. They reach for their guns as soon as they see us.

Angelo shoots one of the guards without any warning at all. His chest erupts in blood.

Yuri dashes forward while the other two are looking to their dying comrade. He stabs the taller of the remaining guards directly in the gut.

The show of blood threatens to bring back memories, the wash of red tugging at my mind and trying to drag it down into something I can’t handle right now.

But it’s so much fucking blood, and my breath hitches.

Nikolai hesitates, and he kisses the top of my head. “Close your eyes, zaya,” he says roughly. He pulls me along with him, keeping a firm grasp on me, and the show of sentimentality when he’s been such a train wreck lately is a pleasant one.

Not enough to make me feel better, but it’s still nice.

The last guard screams and drops his gun. “I give up! Don’t kill me!”

Yuri lets out a dark laugh. “You Americans are so soft.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, but I still hear the sickening sound of a knife plunging into flesh a split second later. Dead. They’re all dead. They’re all covered in blood because this was a fucking slaughter. It couldn’t be anything else, not given the time frame.

What if it’s already too late?

The sound of a door opening comes next, and I brace myself. This is where things are really going to get rough because everyone is going to be confused and disoriented.

Or already sick and dying.

“What the fuck is going on?” Don Marino’s voice rings out. “Raphael?”

“Sorry, he’s dead,” Angelo says, shoving Don Marino aside and heading into the room. “Princess? Victor?”

Please don’t let Konstantin be hurt.

I can’t hear any replies coming from inside of the room — and I can’t focus on it, either, because from behind me, I hear Kyran’s familiar voice yelling my name. I don’t turn and look.

I wonder how much blood there was when Silvano shot my father.

“Let her go, you motherfucker!” Kyran shouts.

Nikolai pulls me closer to him.

“Kotya!” Yuri calls out, ignoring Kyran. He shouts something in Russian, and Konstantin’s deep, rumbling voice answers back.

Thank god.

Unfortunately, I open my eyes to see more guards appearing just on Kyran and Silvano’s heels.

“From behind!” Nikolai calls out. He curses, hauling me closer to the wall as he seems undecided on which direction to try to guard me from. “They have guns, Yuri!”

“Stand down!” Don Marino shouts.

Other people start shouting too, and it’s hard to keep track of who is where.

“Don Marino is trying to poison all of you!” I say, hoping it’senough to convince somebody to lay down their weapons or side with us.

The people inside the big living room get louder, everybody speaking all at once. I have no idea what’s going on anymore.

Yuri takes the gun off one of the dead people and aims at Kyran.

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