She couldn’t say anymore. She buried her face in my chest even deeper, her hold on my suit close to ripping it. Tears streamed down her cheeks in cool rushes, but her face felt hot. Sweat glued her hair to her skin. The crown was askew on her head. I’d fling the fucking thing off after we were out of the escape door.
I hit it with enough momentum that I almost bounced backwards when it refused to open. It seemed like it was barred from the outside.
“Fuck,” I said, turning around.
Someone was in the darkness with us. I felt it.
I’d worn all black for a reason. I blended, but Mia didn’t. She was lit up in vibrant colors like the queen she portrayed. I put my finger to her mouth as I set her down as gently as I could. She let go, but it took a second. I heard the breath leave her mouth as her feet touched the ground.
The someone in the darkness heard it, too. He pivoted that way, and I blocked him. We crashed and started to dance. Our arms locked. His back hit the wall, and then mine did from the force of our struggle. He was a big motherfucker, as big as me, and just as strong.
Music from the orchestra had started up again. To keep peace with the crowd? Maybe the show would go on with Mia’s understudy.
He said something in Russian that didn’t sound pleasant. I returned it in Italian. There was no time for a pissing game, though. He didn’t come alone. There was no doubt more of his men were rushing all throughout this theater, looking for her. The grunts we made echoed in the small space. Sooner or later, someone would hear—whether one of mine or his.
We pushed apart, and his fist flew with a whistle sound, barely missing my head. He clipped the top part of my ear. Before I could move, he grabbed Mia by the hair. She started slapping at his hand, then she made a noise like she was clawing him.
“Let go! Bastard!”
“That Fausti mouth—”
She stopped struggling and he stopped pulling. I could tell something had shocked him. A second later, I heard what sounded like her crown hitting the floor. He had yanked that instead of her hair.
“Bitch!”
He didn’t have time to make another move. I wrapped my arm around his throat, pulling him back. I used the wall to brace myself as I kept another breath from entering his lungs. He started to claw at my arm, trying to stop me, but I pulled even tighter. He was trying to gasp, trying to win some air. Wet droplets hit the floor. He was pissing himself. A little tighter and I felt the life drain out of him. He was deadweight and heavy. He dropped to the floor with a thump.
Mia huddled close to the wall, as far away from the dead man and his stinking piss as she could get. I scooped her up, doing my best to see through the darkness. My eyes had adjusted some, but shapes were hard to make out when they blended. I felt them, though, rushing. Some trying to find the woman in my arms, and some looking for the both of us.
Before I set out for the next emergency exit, I had to take into consideration that there might be more of them waiting. The fucker lying on the ground knew I was coming here with her. They even blocked the outside entrance. There was no doubt in my mind that Cerise had given these men a detailed description of the theater beforehand. She was Parisian and had danced here for years.
Mia turned my face toward hers. Her hands were covered with blood and sharp pieces of glass. I smelled the blood on her and felt the shards against my skin. My eyes ran the length of her body, and I could have sworn her feet were bare. Her blood dripped on the floor.
My stomach rolled and I felt weak for a second before I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. Blood never bothered me. Hers did.
I kissed her forehead, hard. “You’re going to be okay, baby,” I whispered. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
“I know,” she whispered, but I could hear the pain in it.
I squeezed her tighter, warning that someone else was close. I went to set her down, preparing for another fight, when she whispered, “Matteo?”
“Mia?”
“Here,” I said.
“What the fuck is going on?” He reached out an arm and pulled another body close. Mariano.
I gave them a brief recap of what had happened and what the fuck was going on. All the security exits were blocked from the outside.
“Ah!” she almost screamed, yanking her leg up almost to her chest.
Mariano apologized to her, kissing her head. “Saverio,” he said, his voice ice cold.
“I know,” I said in Italian. It was all I could say. He must have touched a foot and came back with a handful of glass and blood. Mia must have ripped her pointes off when I was fighting the Russian.
A body next to mine whirled in the darkness, and my sister’s voice floated out before the fist could knock her out. “It’s me,” Evelina said hurriedly. “Scarlett and Brando are right behind me. Scarlett led us here.”
Brando demanded in Italian to know what the fuck was going on with his daughter. We explained it to him. A small light came on, and Scarlett swallowed the sob in her throat when she examined Mia’s feet. We all did. The glass shards looked like a bunch of rubies embedded in her skin. The glass glistened with her blood. It was creating a steady pool underneath her. Her toes looked like shredded meat straight from the butcher’s block.
