Page 335 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

‘You organised this.’

‘Day mne obyasnit’… pozhaluysta!’

‘I want answers, not lies. Where are they?’

Danya catches his wrist, could break it, but he just holds.

He’s not fighting.

So Lachlan seizes Danya’s wrist in turn and bends it until he gets the snap, drinking in the pain of the break, letting the horror of it fuel his fire.

‘She trusted you.’

‘I—I know.’

‘Jules trusted you.’

‘Please…’

‘I trusted you.’

Lachlan drives his forehead into Danya’s face, breaks his nose.

He doesn’t understand why he won’t fight back.

Danya is probably one of the only people on earth who could kill him in a fight, who could beat him.

‘FIGHT BACK!’

‘I cannot tell you… now what it is, but in two hours I can—’

Lachlan closes both hands around his throat.

Danya’s body bucks.

‘Are they alive?’

Danya’s mouth opens.

Nothing comes out.

Lachlan squeezes harder.

‘Tell me they’re alive.’

Danya tries.

Lachlan sees him trying.

No words.

He should probably stop strangling him and let him answer.

But he can’t.

Danya’s eyes fill.

Lachlan releases his throat and hits him again. Danya’s head snaps sideways, blood spraying across the snow.