Zaal stared for a second too long, then asked, “You too?”
Dropping my eyes, I nodded and replied, “I pray that one day in the future I will wake up no longer harboring the urge to kill or draw blood.”
Zaal closed his eyes, then glancing to the locked office door—the locked door of the office holding our females—said, “Then I will pray for that day also.” Grabbing his towel from the floor, Zaal wiped the blood off his chest and face and said, “I want to be a stronger, more normal male for my Talia. Not this version of me who dreams of stopping hearts and cracking skulls. I still do not understand this life. At times, it becomes too much for me to take.” He tapped at his head. “It gives me pain, in here.”
Looking over my brother’s shoulder to make sure the office door was shut, I closed in and said, “We’re different, Zaal. We were conditioned all of our lives to be like this. Our females know this.”
A pained expression crossed Zaal’s face, and he asked, “Then why do they stay locked away when we spar? Why do her brown eyes get sad when she sees us fight and draw blood?”
I sighed and ran my own towel over my face. But I had shit to say. Kisa accepted that I would never be the boy she used to read to when we were kids. But Zaal was right. The women might have accepted it as part of who we are—the monsters we’d become—but I knew they both struggled to see us like this, choosing rather to ignore the violence within. Like Zaal, I pray for the day we don’t wake up in a cold sweat, programmed to kill merely to survive.
Turning to survey the gym, I found it was teeming with fighters, all training under the watchful eyes of their coaches. Viktor, our newly appointed Dungeon Manager, walked among the fighter scum, checking all was well.
Dropping the towel into the cage-side basket, I had started to move toward the showers when I heard my Mikhail, my head byki, barking in Russian for someone to shut up.
Snapping my head toward the entrance, I stood next to Zaal, who was also staring in that direction. Both of us were ready for the fight. My heart pumped in my chest at the thought of someone coming to attack. Then Mikhail entered the lower level of the gym, dragging an old gray-haired man behind him.
I straightened from preparing to fight and narrowed my eyes on whom he held in his hands. I noticed the office door open. Talia walked out. I watched as my sister looked at Zaal beside me. Her face dropped. Zaal’s face was bruised and his lip was split. I knew she hated seeing him hurt.
I held out my hand to my sister, signaling for her to stay put. I saw Kisa appear beside her, her big blue eyes immediately searching for me. I tensed as she did, but my wife just smiled and nodded her head—she’d accepted that I had to do this.
The man in Mikhail’s grip shouted out when Mikhail brought him to stand before us.
“Knyaz,” Mikhail announced as the old man kept his head down, “caught this fucking krysa hiding upstairs. He was looking for a way in.”
Striding forward, I crossed my arms over my bare chest and peered down at the man. “Who are you?” I asked coldly in Russian, and saw him tense as he absorbed the question.
He said nothing in reply. Mikhail lifted the old man’s head up by his hair and advised, “You answer the knyaz when he asks you a question.”
The man slowly lifted his eyes, but when he did they didn’t stay on me for long. Instead they landed on Zaal and remained there. I watched Zaal tense and narrow his eyes. The old man paled.
Clearly feeling my stare, Zaal flicked a glance to me. I could see discomfort in his expression. When I looked again to the old man, something in his stare made me seek out Viktor. I found him by the far wall, watching us, not the fighters. Flicking my chin, I waved my hand and signaled for Viktor to clear out the gym.
I didn’t know why, but the way the old man was staring at Zaal made ice shoot up my spine. Five minutes later the gym was cleared and the old man was still fixed on Zaal.
Zaal folded his arms across his chest. I could see confusion in his face. Taking the lead as knyaz, I approached the man and asked, “Why were you outside this gym?”
I’d spoken in Russian again and I knew he understood me. Clearing his throat, the old man opened his mouth but stopped himself from speaking. Mikhail tightened his grip on the man’s hair and neck. When I nodded to my head byki, Mikhail let the old man go.
As soon as he was free, the old man turned toward Zaal and bowed his head. My eyebrows pulled down and I saw Talia and Kisa step farther out of the office toward us, Talia taking the lead. My sister looked from the old man to Zaal and back again; then her worried face turned to me.
I had opened my mouth to say something else when the old man whispered, “Lideri, it is you.” I stilled. My heart pounded when the man spoke in Georgian. Kisa, Talia, and my byki all wore expressions of confusion—none of them spoke Georgian—but I did from years in the gulag, and of course Zaal did, too.
Zaal rocked on his feet and he drew in a long breath.
The man had called Zaal Lideri. The man knew who Zaal was. He knew he was looking at a Kostava.
“Name?” I asked the old man, and his head lifted. He forced himself to address me and said coldly, “Avto Oniani.”
The more I watched him, the colder the man’s attitude became toward me. Stepping next to Zaal, I saw the man watching me like a hawk. As I stopped, I asked, “You know this man?” I pointed to Zaal.
Avto nodded his head, and water filled his eyes. Zaal had been silent and absolutely still since the man turned up, but something caused him to snap out of his trance and ask, “How? And who do you think I am?”
Zaal had spoken in Russian, and I knew it was so Talia could understand. There wasn’t anything Zaal did that Talia wasn’t involved in.
The man frowned but answered in like manner. “You are Zaal Kostava, from Tbilisi, Georgia.” He put his hand on his chest. “I am Avto; I was a servant to your family, when you were a boy.”
I heard Talia gasp, but before Zaal could say anything else the man stepped forward with urgency. “Lideri, the night your family was killed I had just lost my mother. I had been at her funeral when the attack happened, but I returned that night to return to my duties to find … to find…,” the man trailed off as emotion clogged his throat. Reaching up, he wiped away his tears.
Zaal was a statue as the man spoke of his family. I could see Talia about to move to her man, but I shook my head in her direction, demanding that she stop. Kisa placed her arm on Talia’s arm and spoke into her ear. Talia was angry at whatever my wife said, but she did as I had signaled.
Avto wiped his face and, stepping yet closer to Zaal, continued, “I found them, sir. I saw the blood.” Avto’s eyes closed as though he was reliving the tragedy. “All the servants had been slain; the guards that had stayed loyal were slain, but for one. He was injured, but not badly enough. He told me what had happened.” Avto lifted a shaky hand to Zaal. “That you and your brother had been taken by that man.”
Zaal was gritting his teeth so tightly I thought his jaw might break. Avto glanced around the room, and his hands started to shake. My eyes narrowed seeing his anxiousness, his sudden change. “Lideri,” Avto properly addressed Zaal, “I, along with my wife, we buried your family—your parents, your grandmama.” Avto shook his head. “The little ones—your youngest brother and sister.” Zaal’s breathing deepened and quickened in pace. His nostrils were flaring. The effect Avto’s storytelling had on Zaal was there for all to see.
Avto bowed his head. When he looked back up his eyes were red. “I couldn’t believe it, sir. All that life, gone; left to die like animals.” He wiped at his damp cheeks, then said, “We buried all of your family, Lideri, on the hill on your property, in case you ever go back.” I could hear the grinding of Zaal’s teeth, but everything went silent when Avto informed, “All except one.”
The room temperature seemed to drop, and Zaal growled, “Explain,” his deep rough voice betraying how painful all of this was to him.
Avto swallowed and continued, ??
?When we were lifting the bodies, we thought they were all dead.” He took a deep breath and added, “But when we reached the bottom, we noticed that someone was breathing. Hurt, severely wounded, but there was still life.”
“Who?” Zaal demanded, the veins cording in his neck.
“Zoya, Lideri. Little Zoya was alive.”
A soft cry came from across the room. Talia had her hand over her mouth and her eyes staring at her man. “Baby. Your Zoya.”
Zaal’s body began shaking. Every part of him shook, until he managed to ask, “She was breathing? She was alive?”
Avto’s face fell, and he said quietly, “Yes, Lideri. She had been shot three times. She was bleeding badly, and I feared she would die before we could get her help.” Avto ran his hand across the back of his neck. His face had turned ghostly white. After several seconds, he continued, “We managed to get her to a family member of mine. My wife.” His voice broke, but he coughed and said, “My wife held her tiny body in her arms. There was blood everywhere, and the little one was so pale. My wife stroked through her hair, and rubbed at her arms to keep her warm until we got to my cousin’s house.”
A tear ran down Avto’s cheek; this time he didn’t even wipe it away. His old eyes were lost in the memory, his aged hands clasping together so hard that his knuckles were bone white.
“My cousin had to work hard, Lideri, but he managed to extract the bullets.” He shook his head as if ridding something from memory. “She lost so much blood that my wife and I were covered. But she fought so hard to stay alive. Her little five-year-old body would not give up. She was so strong, so brave.”
This time sniffing came from both Kisa and Talia and when I looked to my friend he was practically unchanged, but his cheeks were wet with tears, his green eyes haunted. I closed my eyes, feeling the hurt in my chest. Hurt that this new brother of mine had thought everyone was dead, only now to be told he had blood left alive.
“She was brave?” Zaal asked in a broken voice, pride filling every word. Avto nodded and Zaal’s lip twitched. “She always was. A true little warrior.”
Avto’s attention fell to the floor at Zaal’s words. “Day by day she grew stronger, until the day she finally woke up.” More tears fell down Avto’s cheeks. “She was so scared. So frightened. At first she did not remember; then, gradually, the memories returned in her dreams and she screamed.” Avto sighed sadly. “My wife tried to give Zoya comfort, but she wanted her mama and papa.” Avto’s sad gaze lifted to Zaal. “She wanted her sykhaara. She wanted you.”
A pained sound came from Zaal’s mouth and his head fell forward. “Where is she?” he asked roughly, “Where is my little Zoya?”
Although it seemed impossible, Avto paled even more. He said quickly and shakily, “We fled Tbilisi. We found a way to get into America and brought her here. But the guard that had been left alive at your home had told the Jakhuas that Zoya had survived. He joined their organization to save his own life.” Avto swallowed. “They knew we had fled to the United States, so Zoya’s hiding began. To protect her.”
Avto stepped forward to Zaal’s huge frame. “We kept her hidden, fearing that the Jakhuas would come for her if they knew where we lived. Then. Not long ago, we heard Jakhua had been killed.”
Avto stared off to the side and inhaled deep. “I went to her days ago to tell her the news.” Avto wiped his sleeve across his face. “And I told her … I told her even better news.”
“Which was?” I pushed when the old man didn’t continue.
Avto shook his head and looked at Zaal. “Lideri, our people, the clan that survived Jakhua, most moved here to New York. We are not the army we once were, but there are loyal men, many of whom have gone on to have sons. They have stayed close to Zoya, to honor the sole survivor of our family.”
Zaal shifted on his feet and tipped his chin for Avto to continue. Avto bowed his head and did as commanded. “Some of our men had heard rumors that Jakhua had you and Lideri Anri held captive.” Avto darted his eyes to me, then immediately looked back to Zaal. “They had heard that the Volkovs, the Tolstois, had captured you.”
“They saved me,” Zaal corrected sharply.
Avto froze. The old man quickly held up his hand. “Yes, Lideri. That became known when the men began tailing the Russians.” Avto looked over his shoulder to Talia. I could see the anger in his eyes. “And we saw that you were engaged to a Tolstoi.”
The air around us seemed to turn ice cold as I, Talia, my men, and, more important, Zaal took real fucking offense at his shitty looks. I had shifted to move when Zaal pushed me back and barked, “Talia will soon be my wife. And the Volkovs, the Tolstois, are my family. You do not look at any of them with disgust!”
Avto shuffled back in fear of Zaal. Mikhail caught him by the neck and threw him forward until he fell to his knees. Zaal cracked his knuckles, his expression livid. He bit out, “Where is my sister?”
Zaal walked over to tower above Avto and repeated, “Where is my sister?”
Avto shook his head. “I do not know.” Avto reached into his pocket and nervously held out something in his hand. I frowned, wondering what it was. When Zaal took it and lifted it, I saw it was a photograph. Zaal studied the picture and said, “It’s me and Talia.”
I peered over Zaal’s shoulder to see Zaal and Talia laughing in the shot. Zaal wiped at the picture, dried dirt coming off on his hands.
I frowned and, finally losing my patience, said to Avto, “You need to start speaking, because I’m starting to lose my shit with you.”
Avto’s lips trembled, and he confessed to Zaal, “I told your sister we had found you.” Zaal froze; then Avto continued, “She fell to the floor, the shock too much after all of these years alone.” Avto began to cry, his voice growing thick. “She asked about you, where you had been, what had happened to her brothers. I told her we had only found you.” Avto paused, then added, “I told her what Jakhua had done to you.”
“No,” Zaal hissed, and shook his head.
“She was so hurt,” Avto continued. “She asked where you were, what you looked like, if you were safe.”Avto pointed at the picture. “I gave her that picture. One of our men took it to verify you were alive.”
“What did she do?” Zaal asked roughly. I could hear him working hard to keep his emotions under control. He stared down at the picture. “When she saw this.” His thumb ran over Talia’s face. “When she saw me and my Talia?”
Avto blinked away his tears. “She cried.” Avto flicked a worried glance to me, then said to Zaal, “She asked who the woman was.”
Zaal maintained a stony silence as he waited for the man to continue.
Avto sighed. “I told her she was a Tolstoi.”
Zaal stiffened and I saw him wince. “What did she say?” he prompted cautiously.
Avto’s face filled with redness, and his head fell. “She did not understand how you could be with a Tolstoi.”
Zaal’s shoulders dropped, and he turned away.
“But she also loved how you looked happy,” Avto said quickly, making Zaal freeze mid-stride. He didn’t turn. Avto shifted on the floor and said, “We told her how they rescued you, and any dishonor she felt seemed to fade away.” Zaal still didn’t move. Avto looked around the room and slowly pushed to his feet. Swaying nervously on the spot, he said, “Lideri, I have watched her grow for over twenty years. Most days she was silent and sad.” Zaal’s hand fisted at his side, but Avto finished, “Until the day she found out you were alive. Until the day she saw your face. Your older face.”
Zaal turned his head and looked over his shoulder. “Where is she?” he whispered, defeated.
“She was meant to wait for me. We were to come to you in a couple of days when I had things in place, but she must have changed her mind when I left. I returned to find her gone.” Zaal turned, and Avto bowed his head. “I went to the Tolstoi residence where she knew you would be. And in the alley opposite was this picture … along with marks on the ground that looked li
ke dragged feet.”
I tipped my head back and blew out a breath.
“I think someone has taken her, Lideri.” Avto’s voice broke and his tears came thick and fast. “We thought the Jakhuas were gone. We thought there were no more threats.” His pause thickened the tension in the room. “I must have been wrong. I told her she would be safe. After all of these years keeping her safe, I told there was no danger and she ran out to the waiting wolves.”
“She came to see me,” Zaal stated. I watched his back as it started to shake. “She came to see me,” he muttered, but this time pure rage tinged his voice.
Talia edged forward, then forward again, until a deafening roar burst from Zaal. Lurching forward, Zaal kicked over the stacks of free weights racked up beside the training ring. Balling his hand into a fist, he slammed it into the wall. A dull thud echoed through the room.
Zaal staggered back and dropped to his knees. “Zaal!” Talia called out, and ran to her man from across the room. My sister slumped to her feet and sat before Zaal, whose head was cast downward.
“Baby,” Talia whispered, and pressed the palm of her hand on Zaal’s cheek. I felt someone stand beside me. Kisa’s arm then wrapped in mine and she dropped her head to rest on my biceps. Leaning down, I kissed her head. Seeing my brother so broken reminded me just how far I’d come since getting my female back.
“Look at me,” Talia told Zaal. Her fiancé lifted his head. “I love you,” Talia said softly, and leaned in to kiss Zaal on his lips.
Avto coughed from behind. He turned his head as if he couldn’t stand to see them together. Anger wrapped around me. It was clear the Georgians held as strong as a grudge against us as my father did against them.
“My sister,” Zaal said in a hushed voice. “My sister, Talia. She survived. All these years … she survived, and I did not know.”
Talia squeezed her eyes shut and nodded her head. Moving in, she wrapped Zaal in her arms, but her eyes met mine as her head tucked into his shoulder. I could see the fear in her eyes, and I knew I had to do something, not only as Talia’s brother but also as the Volkov Bratva knyaz.