Riot (Scarred Souls #4)

Valentin’s wide shoulders relaxed. Kisa’s tearful face entered my head. Her good-bye to me this morning. Zaal, Talia, Valentin, and Zoya had arrived at my father’s house to leave for the airfield. From the night I told Kisa what I was to do, she had said nothing in response. She knew I had to do this. It didn’t mean I couldn’t see the terror and concern every time she looked at me over the past few weeks.

She held my hand longer, she kissed me softer, and she made love to me every chance she got. I glanced down at my hand, and I could still feel her kiss on my palm as I said good-bye to her this morning. Talia and Zoya had proved themselves to be just as strong as my wife. They had supported their males. If this all went according to plan, after this battle there would be no more war to fight.

Blinking away the memory and emotion on Kisa’s face, I looked to my brothers and said, “We will win. There is no other choice.”

“And the fourth warrior in the champion round?” Zaal questioned.

“He gets on board or we take him out first. Whatever we have to do.” My hands clenched into fists on the table, and the old surge of adrenaline flooded my veins. “We will kill many. That includes fighters that are too far gone or any that stand in our way. We do not give second chances, we do not hesitate to strike those that try to stop us. We kill quickly. We kill without mercy.”

Zaal and Valentin nodded.

I sat back in my seat as the plane descended. “How far is the pit from the airfield?” I asked Valentin.

“No more than twenty minutes,” Valentin replied. “The airfield is Arziani’s. Wraiths will guide our van to the loading door.”

Nodding, I reached for the hem of my sweater and pulled it over my head. When my bare torso was on display, I retrieved my worn but trusted knuckle-dusters from my bag. I stared at the metal, felt the bladed tips with my finger to make sure they were sharp. When a bud of blood formed on my finger, I felt the excitement of being back in this place spark inside me. The old Raze stirring inside, waking from the sleep I had kept him in for months.

With a deep breath, I slipped the knuckle-dusters in place. I bent my fingers, feeling the weight of them once again in my hands.

When I looked up, I saw Zaal had followed my lead. He looked every inch a gulag fighter, bare chested and wearing only the standard black pants. And in his hands were his black sais. From this vantage point, as Zaal’s eyes remained cast down to stare at his weapons, I felt like I was here with Anri once again.

I fought a smirk at how my best friend would have relished in this moment. He would have stormed into this fight like a hurricane of rage, taking Master and his Wraiths out with a smile on his face. When Zaal looked up at me, he asked, “You think of my brother?”

My chest tightened, but I replied truthfully, “Yes.”

Zaal nodded sadly. I knew it still bothered him that his memories were almost gone of his twin. Only fragments of their childhood remained. “This is the moment he wished for,” I said, thinking of our parting in Alaska. “He was coming back to find you and destroy this place. He didn’t quite remember, but he knew his heart was being called here.”

Zaal’s green eyes brightened.

“I was just thinking of how he would have rejoiced in this moment. Finally getting to meet the male that created this hell. Getting to return to the slave factory where you were experimented on like rats.” I huffed a laugh. “He would have burned it to the ground with a laugh bursting from his chest.”

Zaal didn’t say anything in response.

“And we will. In his memory, we will do as he would.” My eyes darted to Valentin, who was sitting bare chested with his sharp picanas in his hand. Zaal looked to his new brother. Valentin looked to him. “Every move we make in this pit will be in Anri’s honor. We will attack and survive as he would … then we will burn it to the ground, just as he would.”

Several long seconds passed before Zaal nodded. “Yes,” he agreed in a husky voice. “We will do this for Anri.”

Zaal’s eyes drifted to look out the window as the ground approached. When Valentin looked to me, I nodded my head in thanks. Hope sprouted in my heart at Valentin’s unexpected words. He was sitting stoic, like I had told him to be. His moods were unpredictable and his rage uncontained. But here, seated before me, was a male that met the story Viktor would tell. A savage male captured and made into a brutal killer.

I knew the male underneath, the one seething with rage. The one willing to risk anything for his sister.

The plane bumped as we landed. Viktor looked back from his seat at the front. Four of Zaal’s males had been brought along. They would play the part of Viktor’s Georgian gulag’s guards.

When the plane drew to a stop, several cars and vans stopped beside us. Wraiths.

Valentin growled low in his throat when males dressed all in black left the cars. Flicking my wrist, I gestured for Zaal and Valentin to take their places. Three of Zaal’s males came toward us and attached rope around our necks. My muscles tensed at being back in this position. The male that was holding my rope sent me an apologetic look. It helped calm the flames sparking in my chest.

When I glanced to Zaal, he was calm and quiet. Valentin, at having something back around his neck, wasn’t faring so well. But he held it together.

The sound of the plane door opening cut through the cabin, and my heart slammed against my chest. Viktor disappeared down the steps. We were all quiet in the plane as we listened to Viktor discussing his “cargo” with the Wraiths. Ten minutes later, Viktor shouted for us to disembark.

Zaal’s byki led us forward by our rope collars. I went first, Zaal following behind. Valentin was at the rear.