Page 145 of Blood & Snow
"Drop the bag," the nearest soldier orders, his accent thick with southern Moscow inflection.
My hands shake as I lower the supply bag to the concrete floor.
Bleach and plastic sheeting spill from the opened zipper, and I raise my hands slowly in surrender.
"Nadya Korshin," another voice calls from the darkness.
It's older, carrying authority that makes the other men stand a few inches straighter.
"The Morin cleaner."
They know my name.
Know my connection to Xander, my role in his organization.
The knowledge hits me like an arctic wind, stripping away any illusion that I might escape this situation through innocence or misdirection.
"We've been watching you," the voice continues.
A man steps into the emergency lighting, revealing features hardened by years of violence.
Dark hair streaked with silver, cold eyes that reflect no warmth, facial scars that scare the hell out of me and anyone else who looks at him, I imagine.
"Learning your patterns, studying your methods."
I don't recognize him, but the authority in his bearing marks him as someone important within the Sokolovhierarchy.
A lieutenant perhaps, or one of Arkady's most trusted enforcers?
"You clean up after murders," he says, circling my position with predatory grace.
I try to speak, to protest or bargain or scream, but terror has stolen my voice.
The warehouse suddenly feels like a cage, and now I understand why Xander calls mePtichka.
"But tonight you serve our purposes instead."
The unnamed Sokolov lieutenant produces a canvas bag from beneath his coat, dark fabric that will block vision while allowing airflow.
"Xander Morin cares for you, doesn't he? More than he should, according to our sources."
Understanding crashes over me in waves of horror.
They're here to take me, to use me as a weapon against the man I love.
My capture will force Xander into choices he's not prepared to make.
"Please," I manage to whisper, the word barely audible.
"Nothing personal," he says, signaling to his men.
"You're simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, involved with the wrong man."
They move toward me all at the same time and each of them has a sinister grin on his face.
I consider running, but five armed soldiers in an enclosed space leave no room for escape.
The bag descends over my head, blocking out the emergency lighting and plunging my world into suffocating darkness.
