Page 6 of Voracious

“She scares the shit out of everyone else, and your husband will definitely kill her.”

I push his hand off me at the stupid joke about Vlad and I being married. I wish we were if it would give me any authority to get the psychotic woman behind me to leave me the fuck alone. She doesn’t acknowledge her surroundings as the other guards on duty around the perimeter all stare at her.

There are two reactions they have when seeing her, and it all depends on whether she is covered in blood or not. If her skin is free from the substance, they’ll make comments regarding herstatus as a prostitute, but it is so they all take a step back and avoid her eyes.

The crowd booas Ana makes her way into the cage. Alex, her opponent, easily has a foot on her and he’s built a reputation for the crowd to cheer and believe he’s going to win. Ana doesn’t react, her steps are sure, and she doesn’t even roll her shoulders as they wait for the clack. With the lights and the memory further away, her hair looks as though she’s purposefully colored it pink. One side is the usual white and she must have tried washing it in sections because the other is a muted pink.

The other fighter strips down to his shorts, but she always wears a long-sleeved t-shirt and socks. There are little holes in the sleeves for her thumbs and intrigue has me moving forward as they start the first round.Her body is fluid, dodging each blow without hitting back. I’m too far away to hear but her lips are moving. It can only mean one thing: she’s spewing some shit. Her shit talk works, and she gets clipped in the shoulder causing me to laugh. The hellion does the same and spends the entire round taking as many hits as possible. Even when she could easily avoid them, she moves her body so there’s direct impact.

She maintains the same routine through each round and a presence lands beside me. Vlad nods his head towards the changing rooms, gesturing for me to follow. The twisted smile on his face tells me he’s going to give me an order I won’t like.

He lets his humanity out once we’re far enough away that we won’t be heard and lowers his voice. “Katya said pipsqueak is sleeping on the street, she found her the other day.”

The worst thing that happened to him is his wife. She’s making him be fucking kind.

I nod, playing dumb without offering to take in the stray. We get paid for fuck’s sake, she could easily use that money to get a place to stay. He continues relaying shit I don’t give a fuck about.

“She keeps sneaking out of Anastasia’s. Take her home and keep her in line.”

The only thing I can think of is to choke her, wrap both hands around her neck and squeeze. He drops his voice in threat. “Is it going to be an issue?”

I have to actively remind myself that the hellion has a use. Without her sick knowledge of the trafficking rings, our non-Bratva hobby is more dangerous and I’m not going to die because of a pervert. So, I reluctantly nod my agreement and go back to the fight as the final round comes to an end. There’s less than ninety seconds left but Ana uses each one to her advantage and smiles widely as she disarms her opponent from the weapons he’s picked up. Her hands move in a blur, a knife fisted in each of them, and Alex drops to the canvas. There’s ten seconds left as she bends at the waist and crosses her arms, impaling the blades just below each of his collar bones.

The force has the crowd going silent and she slashes through his torso creating an X from shoulder to hip. This is the fucking person they want me to invite in my home?! She leaves a trail of red on her forehead as she swipes her hair off her face and starts fucking skipping again. The crowd moves back as she jumps down from the cage, and she doesn’t just skip. She bops her head to music that isn’t playing. A shiver works through me as she passes me, still skipping.

I follow the deranged murderer before she can disappear like she usually does after a fight, and she doesn’t look at me as we enter the changing room.

“Why are you following me?” Ana asks as she walks to the sink and her nimble fingers are hypnotizing as she washes theblood away. It’s the first time I’ve seen anything close to gentle come from her and I focus on that.

“Get your shit, you’re coming with me.”

She’s just finished killing a man, his blood is still warm on her skin, but she fills with excitement and has the sense to speak quietly. “Another nonce?”

I wish it was a predator. Popping her psychotic bubble, I shake my head and grab her bag. I’ve barely touched the strap when it’s ripped from my hand and her entire body weight is pushed behind her shoulder, hitting my chest.

“Don’t touch my things, you ugly ogre.”

I’m going to kill her before she even steps a foot inside my house.

I can feel her teeth through her cheeks as I grab her jaw and push her back, allowing my anger to gain some relief.

“Normal people say thank you when someone helps them.”

Her jaw twitches, readying to spit whatever bullshit she’s not given any thought to and I tighten my hold. My voice is harsher, and I keep my other hand down, so I don’t choke the shit out of her.

“There will be rules. First one, shut the fuck up.”

Knocking her knife away before she can dig it into my side, I raise one brow and she relaxes enough to give me a curt nod in agreement.

TWO

Ana

Dima doesn’t say anything as he drives. There’s no passing look or small talk, it’s peaceful and my eyes close as my crown touches the headrest. Working through the sorting file in my brain, I scratch off the last name that would have any information on Nina. The old cunt died. He was a lucky bastard with a brain hemorrhage listed on his death certificate instead of allowing me to have fun.

She’ll be twenty now, too old for a live in. Too young to have killed herself yet. It usually comes when they reach twenty-five. At twenty-five they’re discarded, the longer they’ve been a commodity the harder it hits them. Nina wouldn’t have any memories of before she entered Yulia’s sick house, all she’d have is twenty-plus years of service as the sum of her life. I hope she remembers the three years she had with her mama and that she’s stopped believing anyone who says they know her mama.

If I save her, there’s hope for me too. We’re linked, our lives intertwined, otherwise she never would have smiled at me. The smile she refused to let drop even when I was tasked with giving her punishments or lessons.

---