I ran my hand over my tired eyes and asked, “How the hell do we stop him? How do we even breach his Blood Pit?”

Kisa sat up and brought her face to hover above mine. “You’ll find a way, baby. I trust you, we all do.”

I shook my head. “And that’s the problem,” I said harshly. “Everyone expects me to work this out. Everyone expects me to find a way in and execute a plan to bring Arziani down.” I pressed my hand to Kisa’s pregnant stomach, to our baby she was carrying. “But more than that, I need this Arziani to be fucking killed. I need to cut off the head of the snake. Everything, everything we have all been through starts with Arziani. The gulags, his contact with the Durovs. Levan Jakhua worked with Arziani, using Anri and Zaal as his prototypes. Then we found out how he keeps so hidden—by using drugged killers as assassins. They take out anyone who is a threat.”

Kisa blinked, then blinked again when what I was saying hit home. “You believe he’s coming for us. You believe that now we know about him, he’ll send another Valentin.” Her words were not a question. Because she knew what she said was exactly what I’d been thinking.

An ache caved in my chest, and I leaned in to run my lips over hers. “If he came for you. If someone took you away from me…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Stop,” Kisa said, moving back to press her finger over my lips.

I took her hand in mine. My mind took me back to the gulag. I could still smell the dankness of the cells. I could still smell the richness of the blood spilled hourly in the ring. I could still feel the heavy veil of death that draped us all, waiting to strike, waiting to deliver another soul to hell.

“Luka, lyubov moya, come back to me.”

I gasped as I heard Kisa’s soft voice cut through the memory. I tightened my grip on her hand. Once again I looked down to her stomach. My teeth clenched together, then I said, “I have to find a way to take him down. I can’t, I won’t, have our baby brought into this world knowing that the male who condemned me, us all, to that life is still breathing, still stealing children from homes, forcing them to be killers.”

A tear escaped Kisa’s eye to fall to our clasped hands. “Luka,” she whispered, “this man scares me more than anything else in the world.”

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Dropping my forehead to rest against hers, I replied, “That’s another reason why he needs to be put out of our misery. I want our version of a normal life. I want this Bratva life with you, with my new brothers and our families. But as long as that prick lives, it can never happen.” I paused. My hand, still on Kisa’s stomach, felt a tiny kick.

My eyes darted to my wife’s stomach. Kisa laughed a single watery laugh. She covered my hand with her own, just as our baby kicked again.

Leaning forward, Kisa pressed her lips to mine. When she pulled back and I saw the love she had for me written on her stunning face, I knew I had to remedy the Arziani problem quickly.

I had two months until our child came into this world.

What that world would look like depended on me.

A world free from any threat to our lives.

That meant Arziani dead.

His guards slaughtered.

And the Blood Pit burned to ash.

 

 

4

901

Stoically, I sat in my cell as I waited for my turn. I could hear the faint roar of the crowd and the stomping of feet coming from the pit. The first round had come and gone, as had the second and the third. The better matches were happening now, then my match would follow.

The main event.

I rolled my neck from side to side as I spun my beloved Kindjals in my hands. The handles were warm. My eyes stared straight ahead as I envisioned how this fight would go. I had no idea whom I was fighting. Master no longer informed me. He wanted me unprepared, going in blind to my opponent’s weapon of choice and level of skill.

He wanted a fucking show.

A show he would never get from me.

The sound of cell doors clattering against the walls came from down the hallway, and I knew it would be a Wraith for me. My cell was at the end of the champions’ quarter. It offered a bed, basin, and flush toilet. Master gave his champion the best accommodations. With this cell came more privacy. It was the only thing I really appreciated about this prison. I liked to be alone. I didn’t want a connection with anyone else. Liking, or even tolerating, another fighter made you weak. I never even took a mona when they were sent to me. I wouldn’t fuck a female, even though I wanted to. They were forced into fucking as much as I was forced into killing. I didn’t have any sympathy for them, but neither would I use them. I’d seen too many fighters brought down by becoming attached to a gifted female. They’d grown so attached that it had messed with their fighting skills.

Females were a distraction from the most important thing in this place: staying alive.

Suddenly, my cell door opened and a guard walked in, gun in hand. He was dressed in a black uniform, the match night uniform. Master was nothing if not a showman for his investors.

“Up,” the guard ordered.

I obeyed and walked to where he stood. The guard looked up at me and said, “Master has ordered you to draw out the kill. To let your opponent get in a few strikes against you. He said you are to allow the Chinese investors’ fighter to believe he is winning, to ensure a rise in the stakes for your next match.”

Disgust at participating in such a pathetic show flooded through me. I wouldn’t do it. Master knew it, but he ordered it just the same. He lived for the day when he mastered me completely. It wouldn’t ever happen.

“You understand?” the guard checked. Instead of snapping his neck to shut his whining mouth, I pushed past him and pounded down the hallway. As with every match, the sound of the spectators increased in volume. And, as always, I broke into a slow, steady run, my feet kicking up sand with every stride.

When I neared the end of the tunnel, I concentrated on the pit. I could see a huge man circling the sand, a spear in each fist. My lips curled up in excitement. This male actually looked like he could contend.

We would see.

Picking up speed, I burst through the mouth of the tunnel and charged at the male now standing at the center of the pit. Obviously expecting me to act quickly, the male stuck out his spear. My right Kindjal immediately struck the wooden handle, splintering the weapon in two. The blurred calls from the crowd rose in volume as I plunged my blade straight through the heart of my opponent. As I forced my blade farther into his flesh, I watched his eyes widen and blood spill from his mouth.




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