But I need to believe in someone, and despite everything—or maybebecauseof everything—I opt to believe in him.
I click on the bedside lamp. “Kolya, wake up. I know where the diamonds are.”
The last word is still on my lips when the world explodes.
The front door splinters inward, blasted off its hinges by an unseen force.
Wood and metal fly. Torrents of choking smoke seep into the bedroom.
Kolya launches out of bed, combat-ready in a heartbeat.
As dark figures burst into the room, my scream freezes in my throat.
“Down!” After shoving me behind him, Kolya punches the first attacker’s face. I stumble away from the sickening crack of bone, but my hip catches the edge of the nightstand, causing the lamp to crash to the floor and plunge the space into deeper shadow. A single remaining lamp illuminates the doorway.
Ear-ringing panic pierces through my initial shock. With a swimming head, I spin to face the open door as more bodies swarm the front room.
At least four men. Black clothes. Masks.
My knees wobble as fear finally rears its ugly head, mixing with my shock.
Kolya doesn’t yell again. Doesn’t waste energy on words. He is pure, distilled violence. A creature of instinct and deadly efficiency.
His fist connects with a throat.
A knee shatters.
His elbow drives into a solar plexus. A grunt immediately follows, chased by the sharp impact of his fists as they splinter more bones.
I scramble farther back, my spine hitting the wall. Terror freezes my muscles.
My lungs burn, and I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I force myself to exhale and inhale in an effort to kick-start my brain into functioning through the fear.
Need to run. Hide.
No.
I need to not stand here like a rabbit in headlights.
One of the attackers falls, clutching his throat, emitting a high-pitched whistling that cuts through the havoc. Another crashes into the dresser, blood streaming from his nose, his eyes unfocused.
A scream rips from my throat, and I scramble backward, but there’s no place to go.
Kolya creates a barrier between me and them while dodging and attacking, but there are too many.
These aren’t random thugs. They move with the same lethal grace as Kolya, though none match his skill.
Two of them change tactics, diving at Kolya’s legs instead of engaging with his fists. They tackle him, not to kill but to pin him down. To subdue the monster.
He trips and falls, taking both men with him, still fighting with terrifying silence.
I gasp as one intruder savagely kicks him. Motion outside the door catches my eye, prompting me to frantically search the room for a weapon.
Battling on the floor, Kolya misses the second wave of black-clad men.
My heart plummets. The first attackers were a diversion.
I spot the fallen lamp and snatch the base, raising it overhead. “Hey, butthead!”
