I looked to Zaal and said, “Master Jakhua developed the serum there with my Mistress. It was where he did his experiments on his subjects.”
This time it was Zaal’s turn to embody death. His face contorted and he growled, “Experiments?”
Remembering the three of us boys in the cages as children, I said, “There was me in the cages, along with two brothers, for years. Twin brothers. But by the time I arrived, one was already lost to the serum. They’d already been there years. I spoke to the other twin, but he had already forgotten his name and who he was. He lived for the day he would kill Jakhua. He would sit and repeat Jakhua’s name, trying not to forget. The serum didn’t affect him like his brother. But it began to take his memories more and more each day. It wasn’t enough; his mind never fully gave in. Jakhua eventually sent him away, leaving only his brother and me in the labs. When I was old enough, when I had finished my training, Master Arziani sent me out with his sister as his assassin.” I lowered my head, flicking my chin at the names on my body. “Each tattoo is the name of my kill. Mistress and Master Arziani wanted their victims to see the names of people whose hearts I have stopped. They wanted me as their savage ugly beast.”
Zaal looked pale and towering over me asked, “Do you remember the identity numbers of the twin boys in your cells?”
I frowned but nodded my head. “I remember it all,” I said darkly. The Blood Pit is ingrained in my fucking brain. Every part of it. From the day I arrived to the day I left.” Zaal waited and I realized he wanted me to say the numbers. Sucking in a deep breath, pushing through the pain in my throat, I said, “362 and 221. They were Georgian. I knew nothing more than that. Neither did they.”
I heard a gasp from behind me, but I couldn’t see where it came from. It sounded female. Even if I could have turned, I wasn’t sure I would have. Zaal Kostava’s eyes burned with rage, and lifting his shirt, he threw it to the ground. He was panting hard and his muscles rippled with how tense his body had become
My stomach fell when I stared at his chest. When I stared at his identity tattoo just like mine—221.
“You,” I whispered, my heart thudding in my chest, my hands gripping the arms of the chair. “You, 221, are Zaal Kostava? You are Zoya’s brother?”
Zaal nodded. It was obvious he couldn’t speak. Suddenly the reason for his hit made sense. “It was you that killed Jakhua. That’s why Mistress brought us to New York. That’s why she wants you dead. In revenge for you killing her lover.”
Zaal’s eyes closed and he breathed deep. The blond next to him stepped forward and removed his shirt. My head fell forward when I saw the tattoo on his chest—818.
I had found males like me.
Beasts like me.
I eventually met his eyes, and he said, “Alaskan gulag champion. Taken at fourteen.”
“Taken at twelve,” I said after a few silent seconds, my voice breaking. “Taken from my orphanage in the middle of the night. Along with my sister and about twenty others.”
Silence reigned until Kostava rasped, “Taken at eight. But made to watch my entire family killed first. Then grew lost to the serum until only months ago.”
I studied his face, and I could now see the young 221 in his expression. And I could see Zoya. He was dark skinned and dark featured like my kotyonok—but for his green eyes. “Where’s 362?” I asked.
Both men were silent, until Zaal simply said, “Dead.”
My eyes closed, and I whispered, “It will kill her to know that.”
“Who?” the blond pushed, his tone demanding.
“Zoya,” I replied.
That seemed to kick-start Zaal, and he moved before me. “Where is she?”
“Mistress has her and my sister. I was ordered to take you weeks ago, but I couldn’t get to you. You had too much protection. Mistress told me to take someone who knew you, if not you.” I paused, then said, “I saw Zoya watching you from across the street. I saw a photograph she had in her hand of you. I took her. I needed a way in, and judged she could provide it.”
Zaal flew forward and dug his fingers into my arms. “And what did you do to her? If you hurt her I’ll kill you.”
Shame ran through me, and I eventually said, “I fell in love with her, you Georgian prick. I fought the fucking serum that made me take her off the street, that made me obey anything that bitch Mistress wanted of me, and fell in love with the little Georgian.” My eyes briefly closed at the pain of what Mistress had done to her.
Trying to hold back my rage, I explained, “Mistress found out and came for us both. She has her held captive. Mistress will kill Zoya if I don’t come back with you. She wants you. This whole move to New York has been for you. You killed her lover—the man just as evil as her.”
Zaal searched my eyes, then stood up. “How many males does she have with her, protecting her?”
“She keeps ten men in her mansion, and three bigger better-trained Night Wraiths around her at all times. Zoya and Inessa, my sister, will also be in the house.”
“What are the Night Wraiths?” the blond asked.
Ice infused my blood. “The Wraiths are fucking made in hell. The Arzianis are not like other crime families. They’re like an army, with Master Arziani as their general. They all dress in black uniforms, the symbol of two daggers crossing marked on all of their lapels. They have no souls. All of them—dead inside. They come for kids at night, blending into the shadows, and throw them into hell—the Blood Pit is hell on Earth. We called them Night Wraiths in the orphanage, as the children believed they were evil ghosts that came to take you to hell—the reality wasn’t far off.”
I shook my head, trying to chase those memories from my head before I exploded. But I looked to Zaal and said, “If I don’t appear with you by the end of the day, Zoya and Inessa get shipped off to Georgia, to the Blood Pit. And they’ll be used—a lot. They’re both too beautiful to not gain Master’s attentions.”
Zaal was stone as I told him those words. His head fell slightly forward, and he whispered, “Zoya’s beautiful?” His voice sounded like he’d swallowed razors. My stomach clenched. I could see the protectiveness, the sibling love, he had for Zoya, the same as I had for Inessa.
Feeling warmth fill my body just thinking of my female, I replied in a hushed voice, “So fucking beautiful. Long black hair, dark eyes, olive skin—she’s stolen my dead heart.”
Zaal looked to the blond and growled, “We’re going in.”
The blond man nodded his head, agreeing there was no other option; then he looked to me. “What’s your name?”
My blood spiked with hope. I had hope for the first time in years that I’d free Inessa and I could save Zoya. “Valentin,” I rasped, “Valentin Belrov.”
The blond man signaled for someone to untie me. When the ties dropped away, I stood on shaking legs. I met the blond’s eyes and he said, “I’m Luka Tolstoi, the knyaz of the Volkov Bratva.”
My eyes widened and I instantly lowered my head. “I am the son of a crack whore, before I was this—the Arziani beast. But I am proud to fight beside you, Knyaz.”
Luka nodded his head, looking every inch the Bratva prince, then pointed to Zaal. “My brother, Zaal Kostava, is the Lideri to the Kostava Clan of Tbilisi. They were the most powerful clan in Georgia until Jakhua massacred them. He’s rebuilding his seat of power.”
My stomach dropped, and my lips parted in shock. “Zoya is a Georgian underground dis?” Zaal gave me a stern curt nod in response, his eyes narrowing. My head dropped. Zoya was Georgian crime family royalty. Her brother was a crime boss who was marrying into the Bratva.
She would never be with me. Daughters of crime families only ever married well. To the people of Georgia, she may as well be a crowned printsessa.
“You remember the way back to your Mistress’s house?” Zaal asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Yes,” I replied, my body suddenly feeling drained, as I knew now that I could never be with Zoya when all of this was over. Knowin
g when the danger was no more, my kotyonok would realize the enormity of my sadistic acts—not all of them under the control of the serum.
“Good,” Zaal said. “We need a map, and we need to call in our men.” Luka moved forward and walked to another room. As I turned to go, Zaal’s rigid hand landed on my arm. I glanced down at his fingers wrapped round my biceps, and my nostrils flared. No fucker touched me; I didn’t care if he was the fucking king of the entire world.
Ignoring my glare, Zaal inched closer and said, “I do not know what happened between you and my sister. You say you love her; I am doubtful and questioning how that could possible when you stole her in the night. I will follow you to retrieve your sister and mine, as I see the pain for your sibling in your eyes. But if I discover you have lied, or you hurt my Zoya in any way at all, regardless of our shared past I will kill you.” Zaal leaned closer still, my body fighting the urge to attack. “You knew me as a boy. But I was a trained killer. Am still a trained killer. Remember that.”
Zaal stepped away, and I said, “Georgian.” Zaal stilled but did not look back. Teeth grinding, I said, “I too am a killer. I may not be crime ring royalty like every other fucker around here. Killing is what I do; it is the only thing I do.” I paused, then added, “It is the only skill I possess. You remember that.”
With tense shoulders, Zaal walked out of the room. When I turned to look behind me I saw two females in the doorway, staring at me, the blonde from before with cold eyes. When I lifted my chin at the Mafia suki, they left me alone in the room. A guard entered the doorway and pointed his gun in the direction Zaal and Luka went.
As I moved after the two men who had been incarcerated and tortured like me, I calculated I was down to my final hours in this life. Despite loving Zoya with such a fierceness I had no idea I possessed, the very moment her brother found out what I’d done to her he would slit my throat.
And that was okay.
As long as he rescued my sister and Zoya first, as long as he kept them safe.
Then this man-made ugly beast—194—could at last be put down.
19
VALENTIN
I sat in the back of the van the Night Wraith had brought me to Brooklyn in, flanked by Zaal and Luka. Their male guards followed behind in another van. The collar was back around my neck, but the needles were removed. We had to maintain the pretense that I continued to be under Mistress’s control. I hated having this contraption around my neck. The heavy metal scraped against my new wounds. But with one thought of Zoya pinned on that bed, the pain faded to vapor.
We had sat and planned out our attack for hours. The Pakhan and another Bratva king joining us at the table. I had stared at Kirill Volkov as he listened to his knyaz plan this attack. I could see the pride in Kirill’s eyes. The entire time my stomach had clenched. No one but Zoya had ever loved me like that. As a twelve-year-old child even I had heard of the Volkovs of Russia. Sitting at a table watching the legendary male let his knyaz handle business convinced me that the knyaz would probably not be the knyaz for very much longer.
Dawn was about to break, but the sky was still dark enough to approach the mansion undetected. The three of us sat silently in the van. The three of us were impatient for the van to arrive at our destination. Luka and Zaal had dressed all in black, Zaal refusing to wear a top, so Mistress would see his identity number straightaway. Luka dressed in dark clothes, the hood from his sweatshirt pulled over his head and bladed knuckle-dusters sitting ready on his hands.
Suddenly the van came to a stop. The van door opened and the three of us jumped out. Luka’s head guard stood, gun already in hand. Luka’s and Zaal’s guards pulled up behind us. We were in the middle of the forest, just outside the mansion’s grounds. Zaal stood before me and said, “Make it look believable.”
Without hesitation I slammed my fist into Zaal’s face, the huge man taking hit after hit. I struck him ten times until he was bloodied, his skin cracking open on his cheeks and forehead. The bruises and swellings would emerge soon. Mistress would be pleased that I had brought him pain.
Zaal wiped his bottom lip, glaring at me like he wanted to crack my skull. I strongly suspected that he knew I’d done something to his sister. I could see it in his suspicious eyes. He spat the blood from his mouth to the ground before turning and putting his wrists together. I bound them in rope. Zaal turned and silently waited for us to move. I nodded at Luka to let him know I was ready. He handed me a small white bottle.
“Put a few drops in your eyes; they’ll dilate your pupils. We need that female in there to believe that the shit ton of serum she put in your collar still has you under its control. You fuck this up, everyone in there dies.”
I ripped the bottle from his hands and put some of the liquid in my eyes. I did not need the prince of the Russians to tell me what would happen to the only two people I loved on this Earth. The drops’ sting was immediate, but the fade was quick. I threw the bottle at Luka and without reacting, he said, “You have an hour to get to the mansion before we come in.” He inched closer. “We’ll kill everyone in there. Everyone but the two females you want to protect.” He paused and, leaning in, said quietly, “Including anyone who betrays us.”
I got his warning, but I stepped back and confirmed, “Understood.”
We set off deeper into the forest. Walking ahead of Zaal, Luka followed close behind me, never letting me out of his sight. We never spoke as we trudged through the trees. When we crossed the boundaries of the estate, I took hold of Zaal by the wrists and began dragging him until we reached the lawn.
The Wraiths immediately flooded outside but hung back, guns raised, as I passed them without a word. They knew to expect me. I never failed. This was like any other retrieval.
I dragged Zaal forward as I entered the back door of the mansion. I felt Zaal tense as the door closed behind us. I knew it was because he was about to see his sister, Zoya. I could only imagine what I’d be like if I saw my sister again after all of these years.
My heart started pumping in relief, because I would see her again today. If this plan worked, I would see her again within the hour.
We walked down the hallway toward the room Mistress always stayed in—the one where she had drugged Zoya and me. As we reached the door, I kicked it open and threw Zaal inside. Zaal stumbled into the room. When I heard an immediate roar pull from his throat, I reached out and took him again in my grip.
Zaal’s body shook. I kept my eyes forward, fighting the urge to look at what he was seeing. I couldn’t, though. I, under the influence of the serum, would never look. My heart beat fast, knowing Zoya must still be on the table where Mistress had strapped her down. Fear mixed with rage when I wondered if the evil bitch had killed my kotyonok. If Mistress had beat her or tortured her in some way.
Mistress suddenly appeared from the back room and her heels clapped on the hard floor. I fought back a wince at that sound. I hated that sound. My blood rushed through my veins at the thought that her life would soon be mine. That I would soon see her blood. That I could soon torture her.
Mistress stopped before us, and I saw her eyes light up with excitement. “Well done, 194,” Mistress praised, and ran her hand over my scarred cheek. I fought with everything I had not to break her wrist. Her free hand reached out and she touched Zaal’s chest, her skin flushing in anger and her lips thinning.
“Get the fuck off me,” Zaal threatened, the anger he felt toward this female showing in his deep voice.
Mistress pulled back her hand and smiled. “Levan said you were big and strong, but I never knew you looked like this. And susceptible to the serum, too? You were a dream for my love, weren’t you, 221? Until you killed him like the Kostava dog you are.” Zaal’s body shook harder as she called him by his number. I pulled on his roped hands warning him to keep his shit together. Suddenly I heard three small raps on the wall of the hallway—the sign that the Bratva had moved in. I knew Zaal had heard it, too, when he froze and his skin rose in temperature.<
br />
Out of sight from the Mistress, I discreetly untied Zaal’s binds until his hands were free. Mistress stepped back. I tracked the path of the Wraiths in the room. I pressed my finger into the left side of Zaal’s back twice, telling him to take the two Wraiths to the left. I would take the one to the right.
Then Mistress would be mine.
A loud noise sounded from outside—the distraction. Like lambs to slaughter, the Wraiths moved to see what the noise was. As they did, Zaal and I launched forward, blood about to be spilled.
I turned to face the Wraith on my right, but just as I did I saw Zaal pull out two black sais from his pants. He spun them in his hands as he charged at the first Wraith. The Wraith raised his gun, the second guard beginning to fire shots. But their aim was off at the sight of a feral Zaal running for them. The spikes of his sais sliced into their flesh.
A bullet flew past my ear as I ran at the Wraith guard to my right. I heard the hallway door burst open and feet enter the room. Luka and his men had arrived.
The Wraith cocked his gun ready to shoot, but as he did I slammed my body into his, my hands twisting his head until his neck snapped. I launched to my feet, but as I did my eyes landed on the small bed to my right. My stomach sank, and my heart almost stopped, as I saw my Zoya lying still in the bed. Her skin was pale and for a moment I thought that Mistress had taken her from me. I moved closer and touched her hand. Her skin was cold, her lips were a pale shade of blue but, thankfully, I noticed the slight rising and falling of her chest.
Relief flooded my body. Leaning forward, I kissed her lips. Breaking from the kiss, I quickly untied her freezing hands and moved my mouth to her ear. “Kotyonok,” I whispered. Tears pricked my eyes at how bruised and vulnerable she appeared. “I’m back. And I have Zaal with me. Your brother is here, to take you home. You’re finally safe.”
I felt someone behind me. Possessiveness kicking in, I turned in a crouching position ready to strike, to kill. I saw it was Zaal.
He didn’t even react to my threat; instead his haunted eyes stared down at his sister. My heart squeezed at the look of sheer horror on his face. I straightened and stepped to the side.