He nodded as the man fell to the ground gasping. Then he looked at her, on his face a promise given life by his words. “I will not let you.”
The dogs had returned, their incessant barks and howls growing closer. Dmitry took her hand, the same one she’d been about to kill with and lifted it to his face pressing it against his cheek.
“Feel me,” he urged.
She cupped his face in her hand, the beginnings of his beard soft against her palm. Bone knew then what it was to want. The fight left her. As quickly as it had come upon her, the need to kill dissipated.
She swallowed hard. “I can’t.”
“You will,” he said and it was a promise.
The dogs entered the clearing and the man at her feet, gasped, “Leave, sister.”
She gazed at the man she’d almost killed. A man much like her. “Was Azrael yours?”
“He was and he was not,” the man responded.
He even spoke like she and her sisters…always it was riddles. They’d learned early to wrap their meaning in words that delivered everything but nothing.
“Joseph will punish you,” she told him. Had he been one of Azrael’s team she would have killed him. She made a promise to the other assassin before she took him and she would keep her word above all things.
He nodded slowly. “He will try. But you can’t kill what you can’t see.” His lips curved as he gave her words back to her. “Next we meet, I will not hold back. Death stalks us all and for First Team it is closer than it has ever been. Run, sister, while you can. The devil is not far behind.”
His threat did not move her. He’d done nothing more than speak the truth. “We will kill him first and free you all. Stay alive until then, brother, and know we are all killers at heart.”
Dmitry did not speak, just took her hand in his and started to run. She released his hand as soon as he grabbed it and followed him. Fatigue pulled at her but she was in much better shape than he.
When they made it to the banks of the river, he sighed. “I really fucking hate water.”
“So does Bullet,” she mused.
He laughed, the sound rusty but rising above the trees. The dogs began to bark again.
“We must swim, Asinimov. Can you do it?”
“I said I didn’t swim, not that I couldn’t.”
“Ah, doublespeak. Perhaps if I stick around you long enough I can learn this art form you excel at?”
He grinned and for some reason her heart unclenched in her chest. She carried the weight of the deaths she was responsible for this night and yet a simple smile from the big man made her burden…lighter.
“Perhaps,” he answered. “Though I think you’re already a master at it.”
He dove into the river and she followed, stroking hard for the middle currents before she rose and searched for him. He was there then, at her side.
His face in the moonlight was wan, pale. He was fading. She grabbed him under the armpits and rolled to her back, pulling him on top of her as she floated, riding the current. Hypothermia would set in shortly. They wouldn’t be able to go far but any distance from Joseph had to be enough.
“Stay with me. If you die, my sisters will kill me,” she said in his ear.
“So I’m your responsibility?” he asked with a smile in his voice.
Oh, the man was stronger than he let on. She released him and he laughed again before he grabbed her hand and pulled closer to her. “It is much warmer on top of you.”
She would never admit it but his words stoked the fire inside her. Lust of a different kind rippled through her from head to toe. These were teasing, playful, flirting words and she had no experience with them.
“Nothing to say, Etzem?” he taunted.
“I should have let Azrael kill you,” she murmured, though a smile creased her face. Always this man found a way around her.
She had asked Bullet what love felt like. Bullet responded that it was the worst pain, a burning and tearing in your chest and a pick axe in your mind. Bone had determined never to feel it. Love was a weakness and her sisters needed her to be strong. Bullet had broken. Arrow had softened. They remained killers but someone else resided in their hearts now. Not broken but divided and they always would be.
Bone had watched Arrow’s face that morning as Bone stood behind Minton. Arrow had given a piece of herself to the one called Adam Collins. She’d watched Bullet the night they’d sent Damon to the afterlife, the wonder and relief that masked her face when she saw Rand Beckett knew no bounds. She did not doubt either sister’s dedication to their ultimate goal but the path would be much rockier because the weight of their burden was heavier.
It was best Bone shied away from the threat of softer emotions. She’d never known them and now wasn’t the time to learn. Now was the time to kill. Revenge demanded reckoning and Joseph’s was close.
“Who holds your mind?” he asked, his words slurring dangerously.