Chapter 17 – RAVEN #2
"No one," I say in a matter-of-fact tone, squaring my shoulders and holding his gaze. He'll soon learn I'm not the insecure whelp who walked away from him years ago.
And as long as he doesn't use his bark, I'm golden.
That, or we'll find out how well Geo's training paid off.
"I've been tracking her for months," I add.
Okay, that's a lie. But it feels like months. Emotionally. And emotional time is so much more real than chronological time.
"You have, huh?" He cocks an eyebrow, his hand drifting closer toward his gun. As if I couldn't just shoot it right out of his hand. "What's the bounty?"
Disgust roils in my gut. Of course that's all he'd be thinking about. He has the most splendid creature to ever exist locked away in that tower, the raw essence of the moon's beauty herself, and all he cares about is money.
"There's no bounty, you foul oaf!"
"There's always a bounty," he counters. I tense, ready to shoot if he tries to grab his gun before we've even gotten a chance to properly duel.
Instead, he gets out his leather wallet and pulls out an obscenely thick wad of bills.
He tosses the cash at my feet. "There. Should be more than enough for you to get the fuck out of here and forget her name. "
"I don't want your fucking money!" I spit, kicking up a cloud of dirt over the stack. "As if I couldn't buy you, your tacky little operation, and your brain-dead minions and still have plenty left over to celebrate!"
"Hey!" Reese bellows at me from across the yard, his voice strained as he uses his full body weight to pull on one of the chains wrapped around the monster's throat.
"Hi, Raven!" Mikey calls, releasing his chain with one of his hands to wave at me. The monster gains headway as a result and lashes out, sending one of Nikolai's beta minions flying into the sky with a scream.
I snort. "Oh, yes. I see you've really whipped the old army into shape. Very professional. Would have thought they were Council dogs if I didn't know better."
"How long do you spend picking out uniforms for your mercs?" Nikolai challenges. "Any of them actually see battle, or do you just select them based on fuckability?"
"Better that than a band of idiots cobbled together out of sycophants to replace a family that wants nothing to do with me."
That hits its mark. His upper lip curls back into a cruel smirk. "At least they're loyal. A soldier who can be bought and sold is nothing more than a whore. But then, that is what you were always good at. Should've stuck with it."
Nikolai's words cut deep. For a moment, I'm that wounded soul he plucked from the pleasure district again, desperate for approval, for belonging .
But I refuse to let him see how much he's affected me.
I've spent too many years building myself up, crafting this persona of the carefree, untouchable mercenary.
I won't let him tear it all down with a few well-placed barbs.
"You're right," I say, my voice dripping with venom. "I was a good whore. It taught me a lot of useful skills. That's probably how I managed to pretend I respected you for so long."
His eyes narrow behind those ridiculous red lenses, and I can see the muscle in his jaw working. Good. He does dumb shit when he's pissed.
"I'm not leaving without her," I declare, my hand moving to the revolver at my hip. "So unless you want to hand her over like a gentleman, I suggest we settle this the old-fashioned way."
Nikolai's eyebrows shoot up, a cruel smirk playing at his lips. "And here I thought your flair for the dramatic couldn't get any more absurd."
"Afraid you'll lose?" I taunt, drawing my gun with a flourish. The familiar weight settles in my palm, cool metal against feverish skin. "Or have you gone soft without someone to remind you of your mortality?"
His laughter is sharp, mocking. It grates against my nerves like sandpaper. "You really haven't changed a bit, have you? Still thinking life is some grand adventure story. And what role is it you're playing now? The dashing prince? You were always better at being the damsel in distress."
I level the gun at his chest, my aim steady despite the tremor of rage coursing through me. "On the contrary, Niko . I've changed quite a bit. For one, I won't hesitate to put a bullet through that black heart of yours if you don't return what's mine."
Something flickers in his eyes. Surprise.
Maybe even a hint of respect. But it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that infuriating smirk.
He takes a step forward, then another, until the barrel of my gun is pressed against his broad chest. His steel-toed boots bump against mine, and I have to tilt my head back slightly to maintain eye contact.
"And here I thought there was a chance you'd changed after all these years," he says, his voice low and dangerous. A shiver runs down my spine, and I hate myself for it. "But no. You're still the same spoiled little boy you always were, throwing tantrums and theatrics to get Daddy's attention."
He looks at me over the gold rim of his crimson glasses, and the intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. His eyes are violent, promising retribution. Both of them, somehow.
"And you'd better leave before you get it."
I swallow hard, hating the way my breath falters. But I force steel into my spine. Into my voice. "I'm not leaving without her."
Nikolai's eyes narrow, and for a moment, I feel a flash of excitement thinking he might actually draw his own weapon. If he tries to shoot, I'd have an excuse to do what I should have done years ago—take out the one man in the Outer Reaches who can take me out.
But before either of us can make another move, screams erupt from the direction of the pit. We both turn to look, and my eyes widen at the sight.
The monster is out of the pit.
Nikolai draws his gun, and for a split second, I think— hope ?—that he's going to take aim at me.
Let him shoot.
I'm faster.
But instead, his voice drops into that deep, resonant tone that I remember all too well as he turns back to me, his eyes locked on mine. The alpha bark that used to make me weak in the knees.
" Down, boy. "
The command hits me like he punched me in the face. I try to resist, every fiber of my being rebelling against the compulsion. But it doesn't help. Nothing fucking helps. My knees buckle just as easily as they did years ago, and I drop to the ground, my gun clattering beside me.
Humiliation washes over me in a sickening wave.
All that training, all those years spent building up a resistance... and it crumbles in an instant at the sound of his voice. A small, traitorous part of me wonders if he did it to protect me from the chaos unfolding around us.
But I squash that thought as quickly as it forms.
It's nothing short of delusional.
Nikolai doesn't spare me another glance. He's already moving, barking more orders at his men before hauling a grenade launcher from a nearby crate. The weapon looks comically huge, but he hefts it like it's weightless as he takes aim at the monster.
The explosion rocks the ground beneath me, and for a moment, I think he's actually managed to drive the monster back into his prison.
But as the dust clears, I see Nikolai has only managed to blow a few of the iron rods off his back.
The monster buckles forward, planting both palms in the dirt as he coughs up black blood that trickles through the cracks in his iron mask.
But the monster isn't down for long before he hauls himself back to his feet with an exhausted groan that sounds strangely human. He plants one foot in front of the other—he's wearing iron boots, I notice—and starts heading straight for the tower again.
"Fuck!" Nikolai roars, already reaching for another grenade.
But before he can load it, a new sound cuts through the chaos. A deep, mechanical rumble that I'd recognize anywhere. My head snaps up, searching for the source through the lingering haze of the bark, and a grin spreads across my face as I spot it in the distance.
A tank.
And not just any tank. It's Geo's prized possession, a relic from the old world that he's lovingly restored. He spent hours every day on it while I was staying with him, which gave me ample opportunity to drape across the turret and pester him.
He even named it.
Betty.
I never thought I'd be jealous of a giant hunk of metal, but I never imagined the damn thing would save my life, either.
The massive vehicle lumbers toward us, crushing everything in its path. And there, sticking out of the top hatch like some post-apocalyptic war hero, is Geo himself.
And he looks absolutely livid.
He came?
For me?
Nikolai's jaw drops. "What the fuck?"
I scramble to my feet, the effects of Nikolai's command finally starting to wear off. At least it didn't last half as fucking long as usual.
"Daddy!" I cry out, unable to keep the glee from my voice as I wave my arms at him across the distance. "You came!"
Nikolai gives me a double take, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "The fuck did you call him?"
I ignore him and start running toward the tank, relief washing over me even though I'm still sluggish. A battered old tank is far from a gleaming golden chariot, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers.
Reinforcements have arrived.
Fucking finally.