Page 107 of Dance with Death

“Give me your hands,” he tells me.

Ezra helps pull the hem of the shirt up as I push my hands forward. Nikolai wipes the blood off the flat edge of his switchblade on his slacks and brings it to my wrists. I flinch as he slips the tip between my wrists and the plastic cable tie, remembering the scars he gave me on my thigh with this very knife. He slices the tie free and folds his blade, returning it to his pocket.

I snatch my hands away as Nikolai turns. I wiggle my arms through the sleeves of the buttoned shirt and work to roll them up over my forearms. Ezra takes my hands in his, caressing his thumb gently over the red indentations made by the cable ties digging into my flesh.

I jump when Vigo screams, turning to watch as Nikolai jabs his finger into a wound on his thigh.

“I guess we’ll be leaving the party a little early tonight. Give my best to the board. I’m sure they’ll be interested in scheduling a follow-up with me soon,” Nikolai says.

Wait. What is happening?

Why is Nikolai doing this?

Why does he want me back?

Vigo laughs as Nikolai stands, ushering us past Kostya toward the staircase. “Go on. Take your leave. I’ll let you go. But Nikolai…I’m coming after you. I’m coming for all of you. First,” he pants through his pain, “I’ll kill your slave boy. I’ll string him up and gut him like a fish and make her watch. Then I’ll do the same to her. And I’ll kill you last, Nikolai.”

I don’t hear anything after he threatens Ezra.

Gut him like a fish?

Over my dead goddamn body.

I don’t take Vigo’s threats lightly.

He’s sick, twisted, and abhorrently vile.

And I’ve had enough.

He nearly killed me tonight. He’s put me through a hell worse than I ever could have imagined, even after belonging to Nikolai for all these years. Now he’s lying here on the floor, weak, bleeding, pathetic…

And threatening to gut my man?

Fuck no.

I see red.

I see his blood and I want more of it.

Something twists inside me, a desperate, nagging need that demands to be fulfilled—a need thatmustbe filled before another second of my tragic life ticks by.

It’s anger.

It’s rage.

It’s a fury of brutality.

It’s an urgent need to prevent his violence with violence of my own.

My feet move me, march me forward, and I’m at Kostya’s side in moments. I hear Ezra shout at me as my hand slips down Kostya’s arm. Nikolai reaches for me as my fingers cover Kostya’s grip, but he doesn’t get to me in time. With my index finger over Kostya’s on the trigger, I aim and squeeze.

Chapter 26

Ezra

Blood explodes fromVigo, coating my skin in the viscous, crimson life force.

Anya is red.

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