Page 57 of In Her Blood
Viktor chuckled low.
“The thing is,” Lina continued, “the group of Morozovs that Pyotr hired to take me out last week had superior numbersandfirepower that time, too. So, bully for you, you scored some guns you aren’t sharing properly.” She clapped her hands in sarcastic applause. “It takes more than that.” She lowered her hands to her hips. “And as you can see, it takes more than a pregnant assassin, too. But I’m sure you have some justification for that bullshit, right? Some excuse that doesn’t make hiding behind his pregnant lover and sending her off to play hitwomancompletelyappalling?”
Viktor blinked at her once, then tipped his head back and laughed, the sound bellowing out of him as if he’d heard the funniest joke of his life.
Otto shifted his weight.
Lina clicked her tongue. “Odin.”
Otto didn’t hesitate. They’d discussed Viktor’s reluctance and how they might persuade him with their limited time, too. So, Lina had agreed to count as her agitation spiked, and with each count-off, Otto was allowed as many strikes. He only had to promise to avoid disabling Viktor’s ability to speak for as long as possible. Being the first blow, Otto only got one. That was fine. He planned to make it a fucking doozy.
Otto surged forward, brought his foot up, and stomped it back down with all the rage Viktor’s words had built inside him. He barely felt a twinge of sympathy pain as his heavy-duty boot crushed whatever poor excuse for equipment rested between Viktor’s legs.
One blow, triple hit.
Viktor’s taunting laughter cut itself off a split-second before the moment of impact, and that second of silence was followed by the unavoidable, guttural shriek of pain that inevitably came from such an injury. His entire body lurched forward, as if he wanted to curl in on himself, the way a man tended to when struck in the balls in more conventional ways. Except his restraints were too taut, so all he managed to do was pull on his arms and tweak his injured leg.
Otto stepped back into position at Lina’s side.
Lina glanced up at him with surprise in her eyes. She tilted herself sideways, closer to him, and whispered, “That was … not what I expected.”
Otto shrugged. “Least he deserves.” He watched her fight her amusement as she looked forward again, and a fraction of his frustration ebbed.
Lina snapped her fingers. “Pay attention now, Viktor. You don’t want me letting Otto off his leash again. Because unless you have a fucking heart attack, Otto won’t be the one who kills you.”
Viktor sucked in hard breaths, muttering old curses like prayers, and did his best to straighten. “When I get out of here,” he finally said, “I’m gonna skin you alive, you fucking—”
“Viktor,” Lina said firmly. “Let’s not get off-track, hm? Pyotr thinks he’s coming home to make a scene. My impression is that scene involves killing me, seeing as how his baby mama failed this morning and his Morozov friends failed last week.Yourjob, right now, is to tell me what you know of this plan. Is he bringing more Morozovs? Is he coming loaded for war?And what in the fuck did he think he’d gain by destroying my damn room and killing one of Artem’s guys?”
Viktor huffed again. The sound lacked a little of the strength from minutes earlier. “Just like a whore. Always yammering when her mouth’s not full.”
Otto cracked his neck to the left, then to the right.
This time, Viktor shot a glance his way that almost looked like nerves.
Lina crossed her arms. “You have thirty seconds.”
Viktor’s lips curled again in a soundless sneer. At least ten seconds ticked by. “You got it wrong,” he finally said. “Pyotr’s not coming back, not today.” He moved like he was trying to shift his weight, then winced visibly and sucked in another breath. “Not ever to this house.”
Warning bells went off like sirens in Otto’s head.
“Excuse me?” Lina said.
“The one thing Pakhan Mikhail—may he rest in peace—did wrong,” Viktor continued, “was try to leave it up to you two self-absorbed children to decide who gets this stupid house.” He grunted and rolled his eyes. “But what you really inherited is fifty percent of the property, isn’t it?”
Fuck.
“It is,” Lina said slowly.
Viktor smirked. “Well, Pyotr really fucking hated your ideas for dividing shit. So, he’s making some revisions.”
Chapter nineteen
Dividing Lines
“There’s no way,” Evelinasaid as she and Otto rushed through the halls. “There’s no damn way Pyotr would choose to destroy the entire house.” The idea flabbergasted her. It was easier to believe her cousin had tried to have her killed.
“Lina, that’s not a risk we can take,” Otto argued. “We need to get youout of here.”
