The man clenched his teeth.
Ronan chuckled. “So be it.”
With a quick glint of silver, the man’s pinkie rolled off the table and fell to the floor with a sickening noise. His painful groan didn’t swallow my gasp of horror.
Ronan’s dark gaze came my way.
I couldn’t breathe, paralyzed beneath the heartless, brutal sheen in his eyes as he wiped the blood off the knife onto the side of his pants leg. A hot rush of adrenaline lit inside of me.
I ran.
Knowing a man sat at the end of the hall, I took a sharp right into the dark kitchen, crawled behind the stainless steel counter, and pressed my back against it. Soft steps sounded in the hallway, growing closer. Tears ran down my cheeks. I covered my mouth to hold in a sob.
Dread tightened my lungs, smothering each breath before I could inhale.
“Kotyonok,” he mocked, the soft endearment sounding from somewhere in the dark. He didn’t turn the lights on, and I knew it was because he was enjoying this twisted game of hide-and-seek.
I crawled away from his voice.
Now, I could see a light from the service door leading out near the bar. My chest moved up and down in anticipation. Without warning, I was on my feet and running to it, but I didn’t make it out of the dark before arms caught me from behind.
Ronan’s hand covered my mouth, muffling my screams, while I fought against his iron grip with tears flooding my vision.
“Where are you going, kotyonok?” His menacing words pressed against my ear. “The party is just getting started.”
A sharp sting poked the back of my neck.
And then heaviness pulled my consciousness, down, down . . .
Until everything was dark.
FEEL LIKE PLAYING A GAME WITH THE DEVIL?
—Anonymous
faodail
(n.) a lucky find
I tossed the empty syringe to the floor when her body went limp in my arms. I’d kept the injection in my pocket since she ran into me on her first night here, waiting for the right moment to put it to use.
And this was not the right fucking moment.
Anger sent a rush of heat through me as I wrapped an arm around her legs and lifted her, her long blonde ponytail hanging lifelessly. Beneath her coat, she wore a bohemian skirt with a slit to her hip and some kind of blouse that didn’t reach her navel. So impractical for a Russian winter.
As always.
Her head rolled to rest against me, tear tracks wet on her cheeks. I looked away from her face and turned to see Albert behind me, his cautious gaze on the girl in my arms. He was as emotionless as ice, but I could only assume the barely-there look in his eyes was reservation about what I might do to her.
“I will take her,” he said.
I was sure he would.
Annoyance flared in my chest. “You’ll go clean up the mess with Adams. There’s blood all over the floor.”
I’d never told him to scrub a floor, but the fact he wanted to protect this girl from me . . . Well, that pissed me off. She was mine for the time being, and I’d do whatever I goddamn pleased with her.
His gaze touched her again before he moved to comply without a word.