Page 18 of Loathe Me (Touch of Death 1)
No, this is not happening.
I will not die, and they will not take me. And deep down in my gut, I know Sasha won’t let them.
He’ll keep me safe.
6
Sasha
“Do you think you’ll escape alive?” Una asks in Russian, casually lowering her gun as she takes a few steps to the right.
The man stands alone, his dead comrades littering the floor of the lobby and kitchen. Everything about him screams Elite from the issued uniform to the way he moves, but that won’t help him now. He has nowhere to run, and he isn’t making it out of here alive.
Adeline remains still, his forearm braced across her throat, threatening to choke her out. I expect her to panic, but she doesn’t. She pushes up onto her tiptoes in an almost imperceptible movement to relieve the pressure on her esophogus. It’s the only sign of her discomfort.
The soldier swings his gun from me to Una and back. How very…non-Elite. He’s young and likely new, which means either the Russians sent him here to die, or they severely underestimate us.
“I’m taking her,” he responds.
My finger presses against the trigger. “You will die.”
His eyes meet mine, and even in the faint light, the panic is visible. He’s out of his league. Una shifts a step to the right, distracting him. It’s all I need. His attention splits for a fraction of a second. But, his gun doesn’t follow Una; it presses to the side of Adeline’s head. Smart, use what you have to your advantage.
I’ve never failed a job in my life. I’m not about to start now and let her either die or get taken. My focus shifts, and I look at Adelina. Her eyes lock with mine fearlessly. She’s rational, calm, and completely trusting. Time slows, and something passes between us. Ducking her chin, she sinks her teeth into his arm, and he lurches away, releasing her. I take the shot; the gun explodes in my hand, and the bullet finds its mark between his eyes. His head snaps back, and his body hits the ground, leaving Adelina. She stands there in silence with her chest heaving and a hint of blood tainting her lips.
“I’ll check the stairs,” Una says, walking past the girl without a word. She’s angry, and I understand why. The Elite came here, to her home.
The reinforced exit door is blown off its hinges, and debris is scattered across the foyer Adelina glances around and darts behind the breakfast bar.
“What are you—”
Zeus lays on the floor, his back to the bar as though he’s slid across the marble and stopped against it. She places her hand on his side and lets out an audible sigh. “I think he’s okay. He was near the door when it blew.”
“Stay here.” I sweep the rest of the house, but there are no more.
Six badly trained Elite. That’s all we’re worth now. That doesn’t explain why they came after Adelina though. The Bratva used to hire out their Elite for paid hits since they didn’t need an army of trained assassins on call permanently. But ever since Una and I defeated and killed Nicholai, they’ve closed ranks. The new leaders have kept their soldiers close, and we haven’t heard so much as a whisper from them in months. Until now.
I knock on Dante’s door. “It’s clear.” A heavy bolt slides back before the hinges groan.
This reinforced steel cracks open, revealing the barrel of a gun. When Nero finally lowers the pistol, his expression severe, and his jaw set.
“Elite,” I explain.
“Why?”
“Trying to take Adelina.” I witness the same confusion I felt pass over Nero’s expression until he opens the door completely and steps out with Dante clutched to his chest.
A twisted smile forms over his lips. “The Russians haven’t had enough? They want more?” Nero’s rage is a subtle and worrying thing.
I can see the cogs whirring through his mind, plotting all the ways to exact a bloody revenge because they dared to come here. Nero Verdi is nothing if not ruthless. I descend the stairs, and he follows, placing his phone to his ear as he barks instructions in Italian. Una has found her way to the kitchen, standing amongst the carnage. Adelina is still on her knees next to the dog.
“Gio and Tommy are on their way. Tommy will take Zeus to the vet,” Nero says.
Una paces back and forth, her body strung tight like a bow, though her eyes remain fixed on Dante. “She can’t stay here.”
My eyes narrow, and I furrow my brow. “We agreed to protect her. We can’t cast her out.”
“It’s one attack, Morte. We can handle—”
“They stormed the apartment with my child here!” Her voice reaches a breaking point, and her chest rises and falls on ragged breaths. “They wanted her!”
I’ve rarely seen her lose control, but Dante is the one thing that causes her to crack.
