Page 25 of Assassin: Part 1

“We’re never going to be finished, Belov,” I singsong in his ear, taunting him. He’s vibrating with anger, but he’s waiting for me to relax. But not yet. I’m not ready for this to be finished. I haven’t had a good attempted murder in months. “And I found out all about your little escapade yesterday.”

“That’s what this is about? He’s sent you to kill me and be done with it? Never took you for a puppet.” He rears his head back, smashing it hard into my nose, stunning me and blasting pain through my head.

I release him, but instead of being angry, I laugh. Damn it, I missed this. I missed someone actually giving me a challenge. It’s hard to be at the top and stay there.

He’s on me in seconds, grabbing my knife and pressing it to my throat. “I should fucking kill you,” he spits, blood welling around the blade.

“Then why don’t you?” I taunt, holding his gaze. Hazel eyes meet mine, hard and cold. He wants to, I can see it, but something holds him back. So I push him a little more. “Kill me, and you’ll become the favorite. The one who took out the Chameleon.”

“I prefer crazy cunt, but that’s just me.” The blade remains steady against my throat. Impressive. Few have that type of control.

“See, everyone always throws in that crazy, but it’s really not as much of an insult as you think it is.” I give him a beaming smile, and his eyes narrow. The knife bites in a bit more, blood dripping down my neck, sticky and warm.

He doesn’t trust me, but he’s so focused on my face he’s not paying attention to my other hand. The one that grabbed the syringe from my pocket. I slam it up into his neck, and the stunned look before he falls to the side, the knife clattering to the floor, widens my smile even further.

I shove him off me, uncaring he hits his head on the floor. The asshole gave me a bloody nose; I’m not about to make him comfortable.

“You’re making mistakes, Belov, but we’re going to fix that.” I get to my feet, moving to the lamp by his bedside and turning it on. The room is small, tidy, and bare of anything personal. The exact same room I spent the majority of my life.

I don’t miss the insult Pasha gave me. He thinks giving this room to his new favorite while he’s here will make me fall in line. Like I’m so obsessed with keeping his favor.

He forgets I’m no longer the little girl he molded. I’m the monster lurking in the shadows he created, waiting to destroy him.

Perhaps I should be bitter about that, but I figured out a long time ago that bitterness will never get you far. It will hold you back and make you weak. Mishka stares up at me with hate-filled eyes despite being paralyzed. I glance at the clock on the wall. I should have a solid half hour before he’ll have movement back. Plenty of time.

I pat him on the cheek before disarming him and tossing the weapons far away from him. “Don’t feel bad, darling, you’ll get the hang of it. Lucky for you, you’ve caught my attention, and I can forgive your ineptness this time. Now, I’m going to get myself cleaned up, then we’re going to talk.”

The bathroom is small, with no comforts, not even hot water. It takes me less than five minutes to get myself cleaned up, the cut in my neck stitched so it won’t leave a scar. When I get back out, he’s in the exact same place, syringe still sticking in the side of his neck.

I sit on the bed cross-legged, looking down at him. Perfect symbolism if you ask me. The man is never going to be as good as me, and he’s best to remember it.

“Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? Mishka Belov, youngest son of Timur Belov, who was hand delivered to the Butcher by his own family. I’m not even going to pretend like you haven’t been told that. And if you haven’t, surprise. You’ll have to get over it, because you’re not going back there any time soon.”

His throat works like he’s trying to talk, or most likely, curse me.

“Don’t waste your breath, Belov. The drugs won’t wear off for another … eighteen minutes. Give or take a couple of minutes. I’ve been playing with the doses, but I think I got it just right. You’re my first tester, lucky you.” I grin at him. “Don’t worry, it shouldn’t kill you. Might give you a hell of a headache afterward. Or that could be the head butt and slamming your head on the floor just now, but you really brought that on yourself, you know? Now, what was I saying? Oh, yes.

“The first time I saw you, I really did want to kill you. I was so sure you were going to flake out. A pretty, rich boy in the middle of all this? You weren’t going to last the first couple of days, but you surprised me. Even the first time I tried to take you out a few years ago, you managed to see the attack coming. It was right before your first solo assignment, wasn’t it? Yes, I think that’s right. Anyway, your instincts have grown over the years, and you’ve caught attention. Attention isn’t always a good thing, Belov, but this time, it might have saved you. Pasha has no use for weak, sniveling assholes, and you’ve excelled past students who have been here for years.

“I was sure he was going to order me to kill you after those first few days you were here, but instead, he gave me specific instructions not to. I wasn’t to touch a hair on your head. It’s the wrong thing to say to a person like me. It makes me want to kill you even more. Still, you’ve managed to evade my attempts. After the third time, it’s just become a pastime. A way to test you and see where you fall. And then, after yesterday, well, you had my full attention.”

I let the smile drop, the mask falling back in place to remind him who I am. Of the anger simmering underneath, very carefully checked. The day it unleashes is the day I die. I’ve accepted that, even welcome it, but for now, I keep it locked away.

“You took something that wasn’t yours to take, Mishka. I should kill you for that alone. Lucky for you, I have a use for you, but you will pay for that one day. And you will never know that day. Or expect it.”

I let the words hang between us before I beam at him again. “Now, you and I are going to work together on the plan that I’ve been working on. Because I know you want the same thing I do.”

“No … fucking … way,” he gasps out, the drugs leaving his system.

Well, back to the drawing board on that. Can’t have him gaining full strength before I’m ready. Which would explain why Ilya was out for a shorter period of time than I figured he’d be.

No matter, it’s a simple adjustment.

I pull my gun and aim it at him. “You really should take it as a compliment. I work solo, always, but this time, I’ll make an exception.”

“Then kill me.” His voice is stronger, and his fingers are twitching as more feeling returns.

“It’s not off the table. So let me tell you what’s going to happen; otherwise, I’ll fire the gun and be done with it. I’m taking down the Bratva Butcher. I’m taking down his school, his pipelines, and everything else that he loves and cares about.”