Rage

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Cece

Ten Minutes Earlier

X ander lifts his fingers to his nose, sniffing for the metallic scent of fresh blood to verify that we’re stalled out at the correct gravestone. I’m not offended. In fact, I’d be worried if he trusted me blindly. For all his playfulness, you don’t get named heir without the skills to back it up. Caution is probably the most important of those skills.

It was one reason Abuelo didn’t choose Eddie after Oz left. My brother sees the best in others, even when he shouldn’t. While it brought Xander and Liam into our lives, it also brought Nat. Statistically, he’s still batting above average, but average odds are a dangerous place for a crime lord to sit.

“Morozov probably found him,” I say, recalling the whistle I heard not too long ago.

“Yeah,” Xander says. “How do we get him back?”

“We’ve got a knife and a gun. Anything extra I should know about?”

“Nope.”

“How are your knife throwing skills?”

“I’m more of a hand-to-hand expert.” I might imagine the hint of a double meaning as he answers me, but as he’s Xander Liu, I can’t tell one way or another.

“Then give it here.”

He raises his brows but slaps the handle into my palm. “You sure about that, sweet thing?”

I play with it, getting a feel for the weight of it. “This isn’t a throwing knife, so no. But it’ll have to do. What about your arm?”

“It hurts like a bitch.”

“Will it affect your aim? You’re a southpaw, right?”

He glares at me, but I wait him out.

“You think you can out-shoot me?” he finally asks, more curious than combative. I’ll take it.

“Any other day, I’d challenge you to a competition for bragging rights. But not tonight. All I know is I’ve got two good arms and excellent aim while you only have one.”

He checks the mag. “Only one bullet left.”

“Can you promise it’ll end up where it needs to be with a bum arm?”

“Can you?”

“Yup.”

He shakes his head, but hands me the gun, and I hook it into the monstrous bow that has somehow stayed tight around my waist. This thing is ugly, but it’s proven it’s sturdy. I pick up the bundle of silk, keeping the knife in hand, in case we’re ambushed.

I turn to Xander, and before I can say anything, he taps my nose, the contact familiar while still making my heart race. “You’re just full of surprises,” he says.

“You’ve got no idea.”

His grin is bright in the dark. “Maybe not, but I’ve got a feeling I’m figuring them out. And I’m liking them all.”

My cheeks flush as I lead the way through the slabs, ignoring his flirting as both of us step silently across the gravel. We crouch just past the backhoe, out of the circle of light. A guard holds a pale Liam next to his grave, while Nat pontificates nearby, too quietly for us to hear her.

I tap Xander’s shoulder, and he inches closer, my bare knee brushing the seam of his jeans. And once again, my damn heart races. “I’ll take out the guard behind Liam,” I whisper. “Will you be able to get him out of here?”

“What about Morozov?”

“The kid’s his. I guess it’s my turn to be the kidnapper. Or at least a hostage taker. Sucks that it has to be a kid, though.”

“That’s savage.” He looks me over, then shrugs. “Sounds like a good plan, though. How are you going to get a drop on them? This place is lit up like an airport tarmac.”

Drop. Huh. Haven’t done anything this crazy since I last visited Abuelo’s jungle. “From there,” I say, pointing at the backhoe.

Xander blinks at me in the dark, a grin stealing across his face before his lips are on mine. This kiss is brutal, a flash of lips, tongue, and teeth. It’s over so fast that I half-tumble toward him. “More of that later, my sweet little savage,” he whispers, and slinks into the dark.

Later. I can do more later.

Turning to our targets, I note I don’t have much time. Morozov’s impatience with Nat pontificating is written in the tightness of his shoulders. So, I clamber up the backhoe, for once grateful that I’m small. Yeah, one of them might still see me climbing this thing like a jungle gym, but I’m a lot less noticeable than a six-foot-tall man.

And at this point, my peach dress has enough blood and mud on it, I should consider it a ghillie suit.

I’m in the bucket, tying the silk as quickly as I can into a shitty, black-tie appropriate rope, when Morozov announces that it’s time for him to take out Liam.

Nope. Not going to happen. That one’s mine.

Hopefully.

I yank the last knot tight, pop up, and with a flick of my wrist and a prayer, I fling the knife at the guard holding Liam.

For a second, I’m sure I’ve accidentally hit Liam, but I have no time to worry about my possibly terrible aim. Instead, I throw myself from the basket, the silk slippery in my hands as I careen down, kicking out at Morozov on my way past. The angle’s wrong, so it does nothing but force him to take a step back, but it still feels good.

Not as badass as I’d hoped, but I roll with my landing, my left wrist slamming into the gravel hard, then I’m up, grabbing Morozov junior and getting my gun in position before Morozov senior gets gun happy himself. “Freeze, or you’re out your only son,” I bark.

Morozov puts his hands up, his gun loose in his fingers. Xander slips up next to Liam in the corner of my eye. I want to make sure he’s okay, but I can’t risk shifting my focus right now. I’ve got the whole of the Morozov family to deal with on my own.

Morozov gives me a slow clap, his firearm dangling from one finger, his lips a mockery of a smile. “So what Natalia said is true, then? A little girl outclassed her scads of brothers and cousins. I never figured your grandfather would be the first to embrace such a modern mindset. A woman as an heir.”

The soft, surprised curses from the direction of the guys would distract me if I wasn’t wrestling with a squirmy and competently trained kid trying to break free of my grip, my wrist aching the longer I hold him.

“Hence the secret,” I say. “The old guard would put me under before I could prove myself. And look, here we are, with that exact problem. Thanks for that, Nat.”

“You stole my crown,” she murmurs, always whispering when somebody else would yell.

My anger flares. “It was never yours.”

“It should have been. We were brought up in this world together. Women are supposed to be the prize, not the soldier. We use our looks, our mystique, our connections to get to a place of power, of security. Eddie was perfect—soon to be a king with hordes of family ready to fight his battles for him. He adores me, and I’d want for nothing. Only you took what your brother should have had. You ruined everything we stand for.”

“There’s more to a woman than her connections and looks. And our traditions have to catch up with the rest of the world sometime. Why not now?”

“I thought I was marrying into a good family, but it turns out you’re nothing but a bunch of classless progressives. Misha, where’s Vlad? I want to get out of here. I feel dirty just talking to this tacky creature.”

Morozov spares his sister a glance. “Nat, I have no idea where your lover is. Go find him on your own time. Can’t you see I’m busy keeping my son alive?”

Every muscle in my body stills as what Morozov said registered. I whip my gaze to the serpent across from me. “Did you seriously cheat on my brother? Eddie would kill for you. He’d die for you. And you cheated on him?”

Nat waves me off, picking her way around the pile of dirt beside the three graves. “Like your brother knows how to treat a woman like me. I chose him because he was the heir to a fortune and endless connections. Although, it is a bonus that he is so very loyal. I’ll never have to worry about a wandering eye.” She sighs, looking skyward. “But Vlad? Vlad is the man of my heart. He was so happy to pick you up personally. The bridal shop really needs better security. I only wish he’d grabbed you once you were back in your street clothes. You’ve thoroughly ruined a beautiful gown.” She pauses for the drama of it as my mind clicks it all together. “Now you’ll be buried in rags, like the classless little girl you are. It’s tragically poetic, if you ask me.”

“Say, Nat,” I call as she takes a few more steps away. “Vlad’s dead. And now you are too.” I pull the trigger as she turns to me with big, tear-filled eyes, and all I feel is a sense of pride when I hit her right between her perfectly arched brows.

Good riddance.