“No! You will come with me,” he ordered.
“There is no time for this petty squabbling. They will find you and Joseph will kill you to spite me. Do not be another tool he uses to hurt me,” she pleaded.
Her words stopped him for a moment. “I’m not so easy to kill and I don’t know why you would care about my end either way.” He glanced at her, noticed her blank face and bright eyes and then he nodded.
He understood he would get no reaction from her, though some nameless emotion twisted her lips as if she was acknowledging he mattered but did not like it one damn bit. It would be the same for him if she were taken. He didn’t like being tied to her with these invisible strings of emotion but they were there, something he could not avoid. There was some satisfaction that she was in the same boat.
“Take the river, stick to the bank. I will find you.” She paused, and the growling of dogs rent the air. “Run.”
He would slow her down, possibly lead them straight to her. It went against everything he was but he ran, knowing Joseph wouldn’t eliminate one of his prize killers. At least he hoped not.
With the sound of hounds crying in the night, blood dripping down his arm, and fear for her life in his heart, Dmitry ran and fell into the loving embrace of the Neva.
Chapter Four
Bone climbed the pine with ease, using her legs to hold herself aloft, as the branches were too high to be of any help. The bark scraped her palms and the cold teased her face. The dogs had passed one minute ago, their handlers unable to keep up.
But soon they’d be beneath her and she would dance with death again. It was inevitable. She rested her forehead against the tree trunk and mused that perhaps she was weary of killing. The need to distribute endings no longer brought the glorious, painful rush of completion it once had. Now it was simply a necessary evil.
She wondered, not for the first time, if that was how she managed to catch Abela Badr. Had he too grown tired of the game of life? Maybe he’d allowed her to take him?
She shook her head, denying it. No, she’d caught Master unprepared. The student had become the teacher. The look of surprise on his face still haunted her dreams. She usually woke satisfied from those dreams. Lately, she was nothing more than drained.
The first man burst into the small clearing before her and turned in a circle. His flashlight tracked the shadows. Then another man and another made an appearance until the clearing held at least ten men. She would get her fight it seemed.
If only Joseph had come. But she didn’t smell him in the air, didn’t feel the horror of his presence flaying the skin from her bones. He’d stayed at the house, possibly understanding that if she met him tonight, she would kill him.
She’d take his head—deny her sisters their piece of him. She would have no choice because the demon inside her was becoming a demanding bastard. It only silenced when Dmitry was close and while entirely unacceptable it was her truth now.
She’d allowed the big Russian inside and he’d commandeered a part of her she’d not realized was there.
Bone dropped without a sound to the ground, shaking off the effects of Dmitry Asinimov. She had to focus so she pulled herself inward and concentrated on the hate. It was a silken shroud on her mind and a battering ram against her heart.
Kill, kill, kill, it taunted.
So she obeyed.
She took the first man in silence, using his inattention to step behind him and pinch his carotid, incapacitating him. She took the knife in his side scabbard and stroked it over his neck before she turned and began the hunt.
She kept to the periphery of the forest clearing and took two more men before their presence was missed. When the hue and cry was raised, she stepped into the meager moonlight and waited.
They approached, not as unified front, but one by one. None of these then were Joseph’s men. More than likely they were Vadim’s, untrained and simply muscle for hire. She took them as they came at her, eliminating them with an ease that did nothing to silence her demon. She killed the second to last man with a slice over his abdomen, leaving his guts spilling from his body.
The final man stepped forward, thought better of it and then turned and ran from the clearing.
Her senses flared out. A twig snapped behind her and Bone turned, meeting the rush of a fist and ducking to avoid a solid blow. Now here were Joseph’s killers. His Sicariorum. The man’s silence was all she needed to realize these were First Team’s male counterparts. Their presence spoke volumes about Joseph’s desperation.