And either Arev or I will be joining it soon.
The bastard lunges, my own knife aimed for my sternum.
It slices my side—hot, shallow, furious—but doesn’t sink deep.
I kick my leg out at him, the blade slicing the top of my knee as I bury my foot in his stomach.
A sharp breath punches out of Arev as he stumbles back. He wheezes to fill his lungs with air again. Anger replaces the amusement on his face.
He launches himself at me. The two of us grapple on the floor, trading punches.
My muscles begin to burn from the exertion, but I know what will happen if I lose this fight. He’ll bury a bullet in my head, and it’ll be lights out.
When I smash my forehead against his nose, it cracks in the middle, blood spilling down his face from the impact. He shoves me away, cursing me as he grabs at his nose.
There’s enough space between us now that I go for my gun to end this fight. Unfortunately, he does the same.
My head pulses, vision splitting and swimming.
The world slows, tilting, like I’m underwater as I lift my gun.
The barrel lines up with his head. Well, one of them because I see three of them right now.
My bullet zips past his ear, while his clips the top of my shoulder. I grit my teeth through the pain as blood dampens my shirt.
I’m going to kill this son of a bitch if it’s the last thing that I do.
I fire again. The bullet grazes his cheek.
Arev answers with wild shots, blood slicking his face, rage overriding aim.
One bullet strikes the floor next to my ear. Too fucking close.
I aim at him again.
Arev lets out a roar of fury before running at me.
I pull the trigger before he can lunge at me again, making his head snap back. He hits the floor next to me with a loud thud. I lay there for a second to catch my breath.
“Holy shit,” Pyotr mutters from somewhere nearby.
“I’m fine. He’s dead.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me up to my feet, dragging my arm over his shoulders so that he can lead me into a nearby room.
I grimace as my bleeding side grazes his.
Pyotr leans me against the dresser of another guest bedroom. “You’re bleeding,Pakhan. I’ll find a medic.”
I grab his arm, keeping him from darting away. “No,” I snap. “I’m fine.”
Pyotr frowns. “Sir…”
I give him a hard look. Alina’s defiance has made everyone think they can argue with me with impunity.
The estate medic is probably up to his ass in injured men right now, or he’s dead, and Yelena may not have made it to the bunker yet. Regardless, I’m not bothering him over a flesh wound.
“Give me an update,” I order him since I probably missed a few.
