Ravage - Page 8/79

The beast inside was freed.

And I attacked.

I attacked the female before me.

Hooking my arm around her neck, I slammed my hand over her mouth. She fought to get free, her voice trying to break from my hand and scream. Dragging her back into the shadows, I tightened my arm around her neck. She fought me all the way, her legs kicking and her fingernails scratching at my hand over her mouth.

My muscles burned at the fear taking hold of her body, my heart beating fast, enjoying the life leaving her body. When the female’s body began to lose fight, I slackened my arm. She flopped in my arms, unconscious. The picture fell from her hand onto the fground. I looked at the picture, my hit’s face staring up at me.

And I smiled.

I smiled, holding this female in my arms.

Because she would pay.

She would pay in pain and blood … then I’d be coming straight for him.

 

 

3

LUKA


“Any thoughts to where you’ll marry, Tal?” Kisa asked my sister as we all sat in my parents’ house.

Talia moved closer into Zaal’s side and laid her head on his huge bicep. “Maybe just here at the house. Something small.” Talia’s face fell and she shrugged. “I only have you guys and”—she cleared her throat when Zaal got tense, his face sharp and unmoving—“and, you know, Zaal is on his own.”

Zaal’s posture was rigid, his long dark hair falling over his face. Talia pushed back his hair and put her palm on his face. Zaal turned into her hand and she kissed him. All the tension immediately left his body.

He was struggling. Struggling as I had.

My stomach tightened, because at least I’d had my family. He had no one outside of us. We weren’t his blood. It wasn’t the same.

A hand ran across my chest, and when I glanced down Kisa was smiling up at me. Leaning forward, I kissed my wife on her head and moved my hand down to her stomach, which now held our baby. Kisa laid her head against my shoulder. I’d never felt so content in all my life.

“Still not finding out if I’m having a niece or nephew?” I looked up to Talia, who was smiling at me.

“No, we want it to be a surprise,” Kisa answered, just as my father and Kirill entered the room. Kirill was dressed in a three-piece black designer suit as always. His sharp eyes met mine, and he flicked his head in the direction of my father’s office.

Kirill next turned to face Zaal. “Study.”

Dropping one more kiss on Kisa’s head, I stood and followed my father and the Pakhan into the office with Zaal, my, the knyaz’s, number two, on my heels. As we entered the room, the Pakhan dropped behind the desk and we sat on the chairs opposite.

Zaal sat to my right, my father to my left. Over the last few months Zaal had slowly adjusted to his new role as a sworn member of our Bratva. I took him with me everywhere, showing our people that a new king had joined the Volkovs. Zaal’s sheer size and strength ensured that everyone knew we were growing stronger by the day. And I felt stronger with him by my side.

My father, though suspicious of Zaal for a while, had slowly come round to allowing a Kostava into the ranks. And I couldn’t be happier. The Volkov Bratva had always had three kings; with Zaal’s admission, the thought of assuming the Pakhan mantle no longer filled me with dread—I would have a trustworthy brother to help me lead when it was my time to take the Pakhan seat.

Kirill pulled out a bottle of vodka from behind his desk and poured four glasses. We each drank the shot, and Krill refilled the glasses.

Pushing the glasses back in our direction, he lay back in his chair and said, “There was an unregistered small private aircraft that arrived yesterday. Our man from the airfield put himself in the refueling center, when the aircraft arrived.”

“And no one cleared it with you?” my father asked, eyebrows pulled down.

Kirill flicked his hand and downed his shot before shaking his head. “No permission was sought, but then again, people have no respect anymore for the way things are done in my territory. No respect for the old ways.” He clasped his hands over his stomach and added, “But that does not mean they will not pay for their lack of respect and honor.”

Frowning, I asked, “Who was it?”

Kirill sat forward, meeting my eyes, and said, “Ah. But that is the mystery, Luka. It seems that no one knows or remembers.”

“Then we make those that allowed the plane into our airspace remember. Whatever that takes.” My hands fisted on the arms of my chair. The thought of bringing violence to our enemies making my blood burn with excitement.

Kirill smiled coldly at my reaction and refilled my glass. I knocked back the shot to keep calm and to keep from imagining spilling blood.

“Thinking just like a pakhan, Luka. And as any good pakhan should, I already ordered my head Pytki—my torturer—to ‘speak’ to the men who allowed the landing.”

“And?” my father pushed.

Kirill sat back and replied, “No names were given, so those men were quickly disposed of for the traitorous rats they were, but we did get one piece of information I found particularly interesting.”

My body was tense with the knowledge that a new threat could be in town. Kirill was calm. Always calm. But I’d learned that the calmer he seemed, the more rage he was feeling inside.

Kirill’s eyes drifted toward Zaal, who had been silent and still beside me. Zaal was always silent. He absorbed everything that was said but rarely spoke.

Zaal tensed as the Pakhan’s eyes landed on him. Kirill tilted his head to the side and stated, “The plane came direct from Georgia.”

Zaal’s eyes flared. Kirill’s lip curled in amusement. “My question is, why would a Georgian dare undermine my authority? Why would a Georgian pay my men off, under my nose, to enter my city?” Kirill sat back in his chair, yet his eyes never left Zaal.

The room filled with tension, until I said, “There’s no fucking way Zaal organized this, if that’s what you’re implying. He’s sworn into the Bratva. He’s pledged himself to you, life for life, blood for blood.”

Kirill flicked a glance to my father, who was rigid in his seat. I knew that they both had to be doubting Zaal’s loyalty, but I was absolutely sure he would never cross us. Even if that loyalty was solely based on his love and devotion to my sister.

Which it wasn’t.