Page 78 of Dance with Death

“Order him to move aside,” Vigo requests.

“I have no interest in doing that. You want to take her back with you, so take her back. Fight him if you must. I don’t care.”

Kostya barks out harsh words to Nikolai, asking him in Russian if he’s lost his damn mind, though not in those exact words. Nikolai only orders Kostya to be quiet.

I think Kostya might be right.

I think Nikolaihaslost his damn mind.

Vigo whips around and charges across the room toward us, stopping just in front of Ezra.

Ezra presses back into me, protecting me, though I can feel his muscles twitch, ready for a fight.

“Move,” Vigo orders him.

My heart skips and stutters, then bursts into a pounding rhythm. My hands squeeze around Ezra’s arms. I know my fingers are digging into his flesh, but he lets me dig, thank God.

I don’t want to go back with Vigo.

But I also don’t want Ezra to get himself into trouble. Vigo grins as he postures, sending out notice with his stance that he’s prepared to fight Ezra.

Between the two of them, the air rumbles with the anticipation of combat. Two overwhelming forces, one darkness and one light; their auras sizzle and crackle where they crash together in the space between.

It’s overwhelming.

It feels almost inevitable that these two forces should collide and explode to release the searing tension.

Ezra has gone rigid, every muscle in his body tense and braced for attack. The way he covers me, protects me, stands up to fight for me melts my icy heart all over again. He’s putting himself at risk of future consequences, yet he does it for me.

Damnit, if that doesn’t make me love him so much more.

Ezra reaches back to tap the side of my hip with his hand. I know without words that he’s encouraging me to let go of his arms. He wants me to remove my touch so he can focus on fighting for me.

This fight won’t end well. One of them will get hurt, probably both, and it won’t resolve anything. Whether Ezra fights Vigo or not, Vigo is taking me back to my box. I will still belong to the Vittoris. I will still be tortured and brutalized. I will still be without Ezra.

Let him fight.

In resignation and in love, I force my fingers to loosen their grip and slip away from his arms.

Ezra steps forward, tilting his head from side to side to stretch his neck. He pushes his navy-blue suit jacket to fall off his shoulders and onto the ground. He tosses the dangling end of his necktie over his shoulder and clenches his fists, sending Vigo a clear message.

“You’re gonna have to go through me to get to her.”

The look of Ezra bristling with rage and readying himself to fight also sendsmea clear message. It rushes straight past my senses and clenches deep within my core. Pride and wonder and a deep, primal need spiral around my insides and it makes me feel…everything. I feel everything for him.

Vigo lifts his chin, an upward nod of acknowledgment, with a sadistic grin of entertained delight. He pauses, taking his time to remove his precious cufflinks. He casually rolls up his sleeves as Ezra rolls his shoulders, clenching and unclenching his fists, preparing to deliver a beating.

Then there’s a silent beat of waiting.

Nikolai remains in the far corner of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, his head tipped to the side with a look of curiosity on his face. He shows no signs of interference.

Is he hoping Ezra will start this fight so Nikolai will have an excuse to punish him later?

Why hasn’t Nikolai stopped him yet?

Why haven’tIstopped him yet?

Because I don’t want to.

---