Bone Deep(15)

“Oh, you started without me.” Her voice stroked over him, the dulcet tones soothing but parlaying her intent with ease. Soon was now.

It did not surprise Dmitry she was there. Not at all.

“I would have expected to meet you on equal footing, Azrael. That you’re here indicates Joseph is getting sloppy.”

“We are not equals, Bone Breaker. I am your superior by far,” Azrael said with a smile.

She tsked and then laughed. It was a hard, caustic sound. Dmitry winced as it scraped his eardrums.

“You and your brothers are superior in your minds only. I pity that you believe Joseph when he tells you any different. What must it be like to do his bidding, thinking there is no one better than you? What must it be like to be that stupid?”

Azrael didn’t take her bait and just as Dmitry made to move, the man shot him in the shoulder. Blinding pain ripped through him as he fell to the side and rolled behind the sofa. He breathed through the sting, shoving it aside as he took in the scene—Vadim sobbing like a baby on the floor, the replay of what happened in the club earlier on the television and there was Bone, by the door watching Azrael, who now faced her.

“Did you think shooting Asinimov would hurt me?” she asked in a deadened voice.

Her face was a testament that there was a God and he knew beauty. Her tone was proof there was a devil and he’d built her from the ashes of his despair.

Her high forehead and cheekbones, straight nose with nostrils that flared just slightly, and full lips, though all perfectly formed, were simply a backdrop for the hazel glass of her doe eyes. Those eyes could skewer a man, make him forget he’d been born for anything other than gazing at her. Inside the jade-splintered blue-tinged gold were a million secrets and Dmitry wanted to discover them all, forget them and do it all over again.

He’d lost his f*cking mind.

Azrael remained perfectly still. “My goal is not to hurt, sister. It is to destroy. The others are searching for you even now. The Sicariorum are coming.”

The hair on the back of Dmitry’s neck stood on end. Sicariorum was the Latin word for assassins. That they’d been named, much as First Team was named, gave Dmitry both pause and concern.

“We are all assassins in our own way, Azrael. There is nothing to fear when you face one cut from the same cloth as you. In fact, it should be your greatest joy. Put the gun down, brother,” she ordered, apparently unfazed by the fact others like her were seeking to kill her.

Disbelief streaked through Dmitry when the man did as Bone ordered. Honor among killers. Vadim’s sobs had quieted though he remained on the floor. Dmitry too remained where he was, waiting for another opportunity. He wouldn’t allow Azrael to harm her but neither would he move too soon.

Azrael never took his gaze from Bone. It was eerie the concentration the man displayed. He was too controlled by half and that more than anything else worried Dmitry.

“We could dance Azrael, but it would be a waste of effort on my part. There is nothing you can teach me. Come to me, brother, and let me ease your pain,” she said softly.

“I have no pain. I am as you now, a perfect killer,” he returned, assurance peppering his words.

She nodded, and the action was sad. “The perfection you seek is but a myth. Without truly feeling pain, knowing every nuance in your heart, body and soul, you cannot inflict it. Tell me, Azrael, where is Joseph? Close? Here already? Tell me and I will make it quick for you.”

Bone hadn’t moved an inch from her place at the door yet Dmitry recognized she knew everything about her surroundings. He’d known she would come and try to steal Vadim from him. The interplay between her and a man who was obviously another of Joseph’s killers had him thrown though.

She treated Azrael as a mother would treat her child. Loving. Patient.

A look of rage blanketed Azrael’s face then. And so it began. He was in his space one moment and locked in combat with Bone the next. Dmitry barely followed his movements he was so quick.

Dmitry stood and raced for the gun Azrael set aside. He’d just grabbed it when the sound of bones popping and cracking met his ear.

He turned and watched as Bone held both of Azrael’s hands in hers, crushing them. Azrael made not a sound but he was on his knees. Bone wasn’t breathing hard and did not have a single mark on her. That such a tiny, delicate woman held a man twice her size in check with nothing more than her hands would have been unbelievable had he not witnessed it for himself.

“Brother,” she whispered. “You weren’t ready for me. I know there are others and it is my promise to you that I will free them as I free you. You have been brave. Take your peace and find forever.”

Azrael’s head drooped and it seemed he was bowing, accepting and acceding to the greater power.

“Don’t do this, Togarmah,” Dmitry said over the rushing of the blood in his ears, using her given name to jar her.

She stilled for a moment but didn’t acknowledge him in any other way. She released Azrael’s hands and stroked over the soot-colored strands of his hair. The she grabbed his head in her hands and between one breath and the next she twisted, breaking his neck and taking his life.

She glanced up at Dmitry and he went to a knee, the breath knocked from him. Her eyes were black, the pupils blown and glassy. Pain, fear, and pleasure commanded that reaction of the pupils.

Bone had already acknowledged pain was her friend and she felt no fear. That left pleasure and it broke Dmitry’s heart that a woman, any woman, would know joy in killing.