Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 93463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“I never—”
A sound cuts him off. A sharp click. Then another.
Too late.
The windows explode inward.
Smoke. Screaming. Gunfire. A blur of black-clad bodies. I’m on the ground. Someone grabs my arm. Seamus screams my name, then everything goes black.
I know the minute my eyes fly open that I’m not alone. I look over my shoulder and immediately recognize Seamus’s profile. His head lolls to the side. I quickly assess the situation. We’re in a room that looks like a cell, one window to the left, a single bulb overhead, and concrete beneath us. I shiver. It’s freezing in here.
My head throbs from a hit I must’ve taken, but I force myself to breathe slow, to remain present. My hands are tied behind me, with Seamus bound next to me. We’re here. Alive.
For now.
It can’t be my family because obviously they wouldn’t have taken me like this. Maybe him, but not both of us. He suspected an ambush from my family. Who is this, then?
We haven’t gone far. It’s still night out, still inky black. I inch my shoulder toward him. “Seamus?”
With a gasp, his head snaps up. He blinks. “Zoya?”
“I’m here. We’re tied up. Shh, I’m trying to figure out where we are and who took us.”
“Jesus,” he growls. “What the fuck?”
“I don’t— This can’t be my family,” I whisper. “They wouldn’t do this to me.”
“Nor mine.”
“It can’t be yours. You slaughtered every traitor already, didn’t you?”
“Save Branson, aye.” Out of the corner of my eye, I note his wrist is askew, at an odd angle.
“Oh my god, what happened to you?” I ask quietly, but I can’t turn to look at him.
“I tried to stop them from taking you. They broke my wrist.”
I wince. Goddamn, that must hurt.
“Who took us?”
Our question is answered when a heavy door scrapes open.
“You killed my brother for this little girl?” a voice sounds, loud and gravelly. “Isn’t that nice. You’ll both be punished then.”
Shit. Pavel’s brother. The Morozovs have come to collect. Payback.
My knees tremble, and I can feel Seamus’s tight body next to mine, coiled, ready to spring. If only he could.
Morozov’s gaze sweeps over me, a silent accusation. I see the brutal slouch of Seamus’s stance in my peripheral vision. Ready. Always ready.
“You put him up to it, didn’t you?” He paces in front of me, his eyes angry slits. “You were plotting. Our sources say you were there the night of the slaughter at the Wolf and Moon. You plotted with him, didn’t you?”
I shake my head, and he raises his hand to strike me. On instinct, I flinch, but I feel Seamus move as he presses himself between us.
“She didn’t know a fucking thing. Leave her out of this. Your battle is with me.”
I choke out a gasp as he strikes Seamus hard on the cheek.
Oh god. I hate seeing him hurt, hate seeing him suffer like this.
Another blow lands, and this time he’s thrown off balance. My breath is erratic. I’m rooted in place. Blood swells on his lip. He grunts, and my belly flips seeing him brutalized, but he shifts back to brace his body over mine. Protecting me even now.
Then we feel the vibration: distant gunfire. Footsteps. The unmistakable sound of someone approaching. Morozov rises and curses.
“Zoya,” Seamus whispers, his fingers on my wrists. “The loose end, love. Tug it.” I give it a pull, and his wrists spring free, then he loosens mine. Seamus is instantly on his feet and just as quickly puts his body between me and Morozov.
Then closer, boots hammer concrete, a warning shout. The snap-snap of a gun. Morozov turns, fury twisting his features. He barks a command, but it’s too late. A click followed by a boom!
Smoke fills the small room instantly.
Morozov shrieks something indecipherable in Russian, but his plans splinter as he’s ambushed. And then I see them—my brothers—Rodion, Rafail, Semyon. They’ve come all this way.
I can hardly see in here. Seamus yanks me to the side as a gunshot fires and a bullet wedges into the wall just beside me.
Oh god.
I’m screaming, deafened by the sound of ringing in my ears. Rodion’s eyes are wild, a blood stain on his shirt, his or someone else’s. He fires twice, cold and exacting, before calling my name.
“Zoya! Where is she?”
“I’m here!” I say, waving my hand, but in the dense fog of smoke, he can’t see me.
“Are y’alright?” an Irish voice rings out.
“Yes!”
“Oh, thank fuck.”
Is that… one of Seamus’ men?
Then I hear Seamus in my ear. “Down, love.” I fall to my knees just as Morozov points his gun at me, but before he can pull the trigger…
Bang.
Seamus shoots Morozov and hits him, straight between the eyes.
Moments slow. I stumble and drop to my knees, behind Seamus, covered by his body. Then I realize it isn’t just my brothers who have come—his are here, too, along with his cousins. Cavin and Ashland, Colm and Daire surround the Morozovs as one.